Live Revolution
Revolution comes when it is ready.
Sparks so many times seem sure to light,
embolden change.
Only when the tinder is sufficiently
arranged will fire take hold.
Blaze clear fidelity to this erupted
moment, charging forward.
After images, ash flakes in settling
dark, take flight,
swirl within echoed breeze.
Readiness, relative to chaos, free range
of human whim.
Revolution is but a shared anthem, parts
of anger and revenge,
parts of reaching toward a new religion.
In the aftermath of violent schism,
what bright vision will
sustain?
New World Order
Post-feudal society
obsessed with security and
place
lock-step shuffle of
obeisance
counting corners, counting
on
science and leaders of
order
counting on gospel served
cold,
filleted, and layered just
so.
Fashionably secured, tied and
corseted, made up for easy
recognition.
"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! Buy
me
the pretty fire." So mesmerizing,
so
certain to tell me who I am, how to
be.
Casting savage spells, they
are,
far and wide,
telecommunication.
Tying up and tidying with
vast
imaginary whips and
wheels,
spinning like a Pied Piper's
tales.
No wonder.
We get it wrong and
twisted.
Throwing out the wheat to
eat
the chaff. Poisoning the
well
that no enemy may drink our
bounty.
Burning our bridges and
tunnels
to save them.
Embarrassment of riches.
Gorging on fine cakes and
sugar water champagne.
No wonder.
Eerie daylight marching
timed by mechanistic
masters
armed with decisions
directing
torture, incarceration.
Power derived from the
people
constrained of memory
mistaking some paranoid
parody
for a promise of life.
politics
infinite regression of
change and resistance
multi-rhythmed
rhyme
singing into the winds of
change
to move their vector more in
line
with where we wish to arrive
Power
What is
power?
Power is a
word.
Power is an
idea.
The Word is
power.
The Idea is
power.
Power is a distribution
of energy, wealth, strength:
Physical, material,
mental, metaphysical,
social.
Power is that which
allows us,
Or we allow others, to
have
sway over their/our
actions, emotions, limitations.
Power is a rush of air,
of water, of electrons,
of words,
of weapons, of
will
-- the force behind
movement
or stasis.
Feudal Diffraction
It's not the color chart; it's the
hierarchy.
Hoarders of permission slips for
supplies
thereby decide what gets
prioritized,
which brick gets laid, or even
fired,
who lives well,
who scrapes til they no longer get
by.
It's not our genetic code that
compels stupidity.
Perhaps it's a kind of manic
compulsion,
depressive obsession,
mass psychosis,
St. Vitus line-dance to a
zombie
caller's tune.
What to do?
Meme-web reconstruction in
increments
paradigm warping
incidents
realign the pulse of
macro/microsphere
benign gibberish cy-phones
through?
Take back your time.
Take back your right to
self-valuation.
Take back your place
outside of the lines.
If our needs, self-fulfilling
desires, greater
ecstatic glory and
grace
are to be based
on solid
infrastructure,
on fruitful
interplay,
on free and freeing
expression,
let us take hands in
undulating, beatific
dance
multi-rhythmed
direction.
Let us be and do and
feel
that which gives us
permission
to be whole.
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