viva revolution

holding the hand of the sinful and hated

anger propelling the actions of the desperate

those ready to fight, those willing to lose

sadness plays her part introduced with a theme song

the triple goddess guarding all life against bliss

others scream of knowing who what when where

they stalk and walk and talk a good game

but when the time comes to do and dance

when the music kicks up a cool cat jitterbug

the dance floor is empty, no whirlie twirlie

living in plastic boxes, names burned into wood

the sign hanging above the compartment door

there is the omnipotent and all powerful magician

it is all just a musical play for amusement

keeping the masses busy and drunk and high

they are much easier to placate this way

a decline in the pesky questions and theories

a musical brought to you by purdu pharmaceuticals

greed lust envy sloth wrath gluttony and pride

making guest appearances and signing autographs

everyone is coming to the after-party, it will be swell

it’s the party of the centuries, raves and ecstasy

whistles, glow lights and meaningless music

with too much bass and too little meaning

dancing zombies, and toy soldiers wound too tight

consciousness and meaning in strobe lights

complacency and apathy spinning out of control

it’s no longer the rebellion it once was

the edge, the sharp blade now dulled and rusted

i am not an automaton disillusioned

i am

monsters eating the world

dear uncle sam and friends,

no taxation without representation

the battle cry of old school terrorists

can someone tell me who represents:

transgender people

people of color

those stamped convict

the dykes and fags

the old woman eating cat food to buy medicine

those unable to read

those unable to write

junkies with jobs

the families living in junk yard cars

the single mother of a disabled child

hell, the disabled child

the hungry

the desperate

the mentally ill

the pious without jesus

the starving

the others

where is their representation

who is speaking for them

is there one person standing tall

marginalization of the marginalized

no interpreter of legalese available

leaving us drowning in confusion

the pretty paper and preamble

the bill of rights-dead and stinkin

nothing eliminates the smell of a dying soul

legislation passed revoking fundamental liberties

war crimes against kids in new york, new york

kicking

bashing skulls

suffocation by jalapenos

buying big guns and big bombs and big tits

mcdonalds the corporate sponsor of red white and blue

koch brothers footin the bill paying for exemptions

spending $0.75 of each tax dollar on death

while blaming it on the poor needing food

prisons built turning profits with every criminal

the future home of the lower class guaranteed

lack of education

lack of community

lack of family

the child that sits on a cot among rows of cots

placed there because mommy and daddy had a plant

that’s story

the classic art sold to the masses

declaring war on drugs the most profitable option

there is plenty of return on that one, bob!

war on terror is justification of genocide

killing children

bombing the ill

destroying schools

“oops!  my bad!” and a prefab press release

where are my representatives insisting ceasefire

where are the great minds of government and golf

deemed more capable of speaking my truth than i am

it can’t go on

distended bellies

destruction and death

the shattering of families

breaking communities

no meaningful prevention

no meaningful rehabilitation

just the metamorphosis from desperate to psychopath

domination

blood sacrifice

fully-automatic guns

just distractions and justification of oppression

Yes, may i please have a revolution with justice and an extra large diet of equality

“every time history repeats itself the price goes up”

a lesson found on a banner

the slogan rings true

the mighty dollar brings you the world of strife and grief

the morphed bodies of children paying the difference

the price of life on an ever rising interest rate

with the product mass-produced at a low cost

the profit margin increasing with each fiscal term

the warehouse and hub-bub of production uprooted

and moved to the sweatshops providing employment

to those starving and desperate, their bones protruding

the faces of those with no options are hidden from sight

they are the ones at the sewing machines of fate

they are the calloused hands pulling fruit from branches

they are the shovel and the hole of darkness

A new classic of an old tale, “redesigning history”

made into a movie, starring the beauty of the wealthy

those who’s sacrifice built it all forgotten and abandoned

to wander voiceless through the valley of uranium

everyday the group of understudies and nameless grow

those oppressed reading a scripted phrase in a ceremony

and the vows to uphold the rich and greedy repeated

stars and stripes domination used by lying bastards

over the masses of the desperate and despairing

hands locked down with heavy chains of capitalism

folds of green cloth covered with faces of dead presidents

twisted into a symbolic icon of freedom

it’s nonexistent

the few, the proud, the ones marching to destroy

a picture of perfect patriots armed, cloaked and ready

a war of money creating heroes in the eyes of the blind

 

but the execution and genocide sanctioned long ago

the face of the republic head held high and proud

the world of democracy brought to you by nestlee

monsanto will be providing the refreshments

and entertainment is the always fabulous geo group

“the prisons who aren’t afraid to use deadly force!”

“there will always be room in the heart of our cages!”

the lumps and bumps the missing pieces

a lesson

an education in surviving the unfortunate consequences

the lines are blurring quickly

new images becoming clear

the time has come

sparking rebellion against the tyranny

the day of the pariahs and martyrs no longer meek and mute

jailed for treason against the state a capital offense

the cadence of a revolution sounding beneath our feet

to create justice and drive the greedy out of the temples

the voices of the voiceless resounding and hanging midair

true equality painted in the shimmering colors of radiation

history placed in clay pots buried deep, escaping annihilation

the gentle breath of relief as the angel of death passes

allowing another day

another moment to gather

strength

courage

valor

to distribute power in knowledge

the masses swirling forcing the lids of complacency lifted

the war drum is sounding the cry of hope resonating

the time has come to resist

our payment long overdue

fist clenched and raised

iconic an army of comrades

the uniting of brothers and sisters

the clash of classes

all the while dancing hope of independence

so does anyone have the gps location of the revolution?

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when i read or hear or talk to others about revolution, it is spoken like it is some action to be taken in the future.  when the idea of stopping discrimination by bucking the oppressors of “minorities” is said as though the oppressors have a headquarters set up somewhere, and one day the oppressed-anyone who is not wasp, rich (mindlessly rich-never paid a real bill rich),cis-male, heterosexual-are going to jump in their environmentally sound machines and turn the joint over, stealing our power back bc they took it away and keep it in a floor safe under lock and key guarded by a cerberus-like hellhound on pcp!!!  i run this through my mind as they are talking or i am reading and see it all play out usually in silent anime form with loads of jitsu, cleavage and beams of light.  but when i am alone and i think of these concepts my reality is a bit different.

everyday is a revolution.  it is not something that is going to happen someday somewhere maybe.  it is something i do daily.  it’s thinking, living, breathing, wanting, and loving my way.  it is living w other creatures in a productive atmosphere.  it is dancing when i have no legs, singing when i have no words and defying gods of the social constructs.  it is doing what is right for no reward except to do what is right.  it is laughing even when i am poor, it is walking down the street in the rain holding the hand of the woman i love even when they told me not to.  it is making decisions based on morality that is not up for debate.  revolution is waking up everyday and being me.

noone controls my power!  noone can take my power from me!  they can try to convince me i have no power or the power i do have is insufficient, but that only works if i believe the lie that someone else knows what is best for me better than i do.  when i decided to not wait for permission, i became in control of my power, and i can only be oppressed if i give up my rights of my own will.  

we have choices.  we all do.  we all have different choices than the ppl next to us.  we all have potential.  we all have power.  i chose to make a mark.  i chose to make my voice be heard.  i chose to never live in a shadow or a cave.  i will not give up my power to anyone else.  i have inherent worth and dignity-we call do, noone needs to tell us we are important bc we just are!  because of the choices i have made, my fingerprint is on mankind, as small as that seems in relation to other’s, it’s still there.  i will never leave the same fingerprint as ghandi, but why would i want to?  i leave my own!  through my children, through my friends, through my family, through my actions, through my words!  i live my revolution this moment!