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

by Steve Cook

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.

Poetry by Steve Cook

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