Hammer & Anvil

The Hammer & Anvil Blog is the personal blog of Sebastian E. Ronin, President, National Synergist Party of North America. The opinions expressed herein may or may not reflect the theory, ideology, constitutional foundation, and policies of the NSPNA. Collapse is both tomb and womb. Green and White unite. Win first, fight later.

Archive for the category “Sebastian Ernst Ronin”

NSPNA Wounded: The Poem Remains The Same, 1971 – 2016 (While Niggers Cry)

the wonder of being a streetcar (1971)

burn the books

that call you poppa

and see where a fountain

presents to a bleeding pillow

the rainbowed spray

of braceleted fingers


dropping on cobblestones

in the courtyard of a wondrous


catapulting against the

fortress walls

of finest     clearest ice cubes

catch me dashing

through a meadow

where the trees

kick high their legs

or die in a paris brothel


flowers roll dice

over and over and over

always hearing the song

of falling petals

embracing the cradle

of a breastless mother


catch me before i turn on you

and drive a golden spear

through the eggshell of your



I Was Spent (1984)

I was spent, left dangling in the trees, a soul-pilot ejection and casualty my parachute a mushroom halo, the plume of spirit tattered and frayed. Kissed by the sun, all the parts of my body glistening tree ornaments. I was spent, left jangling upon the hook of my righteous venom, gorged through my intestines a trail of guts, a frantic, bleeding highway. Songbirds feasted on my remains. I was regurgitated to feed their screaming, naked young. I was spent, a majestic, beached whale, my blue hole of suction torn and scratched by the sand crystals of tumbling civilizations. I decayed into the Earth, a bleached, white baby grand.

Picked clean by the cries of mariner birds I shot errant symphonies into the surf. I was spent, put out with the garbage and broken TV sets. Children flung silent arrows through my eyeball screen. Rats nibbled on my circuitry. Electric storms crashed erstwhile in another dimension to where for solitude and rejuvenation battered maidens and Incas fled.

Yea, though I bled! Yea, though I bled!

I was spent.


Anschluss: The Politics of Vesica Piscis, October 2013



London Forum Speech, October 3, 2015


When will they figure out that “Nigger” is not limited to colour of skin? Wounds? They get licked, that is what one does with wounds…while giggling at the girlie boys dangling from parapets. It is a piffle.

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