Day 38. The Rap of Liberation 1st Movement
Here is Poem 38, for Thursday 24th May 2018, Day 38 of my (hopefully) 365-day Poemathon. I decided on another rap-style poem as they are rather fun to do. Whether they are also fun to read is for you to decide.
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The Rap of Liberation - First Movement
There's you my sisters
And you my brothers.
We're in this together,
On the same side,
The same team,
Share the same dreams,
Got the same oppressors,
Let's call them
The Others.
The game's called "survive"
And you're playing it to
Win first prize,
Trying to stay alive and thrive,
Live long and prosper
With a modicum of style,
To smile and
Be nice to each other,
While The Others
Endlessly contrive
A billion ways
To keep you trapped in the
Ruins of your dreams,
Marooned amid the rubble
On your island of
Silent despair.
They stick you in confusions
And problems with no solution,
Conflicts without resolution,
Scared by their threats
In endless procession,
Depressed by the fake news.
The media-manufactured matrix
Of lies pretends it's all
Supersized ugly and hopeless.
It sells you the idea
Your efforts are useless
And there
Ain't nothing good happening,
No peace nowhere,
Except solace in a pill
The calm of the brain-dead
Or the peace of the
Lie-down-and-quit
Graves of the slave-yard.
It sells you the notion it's all bad,
That every motion's a threat
Every notion it could be better
Is ultimately futile.
And somehow it's
Your fault for being a loser
Stuck in the human condition.
But you know what scares 'em
This so-called elite
With their crummy devices
And the sneaky suppressions
Of the sticky web of deceit
They spin like tricky little spiders
Across the threshold of freedom?
You know what'll beat 'em?
That one day you'll wake up
And say fuck e'm,
Skip the whole reasons-why,
Hard-environment,
Fake-threat, wrong-target,
Noise-and-distraction,
Smoke-and-mirrors,
Boxing-with-shadows,
Follow-my-leader-to-oblivion
Bullshit that smothers
You like a pillow.
You might some day
Puff out your chest and
Refuse to be cowed, played,
Deployed, drafted, duped,
Bested or
Sold their deceits.
They're scared you'll
Discover you can dance
Without their puppet strings,
That you'll refuse to lie there and take
Without question their
Intravenous poisons,
Decline their booby-trapped,
Mealy-mouthed
Enticements and special offers
And despite all their efforts
You'll decide to
Flourish and Prosper.
So here ends the first
Chapter in the rap if liberation.
Sure as looking
There's more to follow
As soon as I'm in the mood.
Maybe next week
Or, even better,
Tomorrow.