Under our own abysmal verdict.
Frequently we hear that we’re faced
by avoidable contamination. We’ve heard it before,
that we must breed our skin apart from those others
until our masks are solid and chaste,
irremovable, useless. Force the skin’s hue down,
imprison our colors on the nomadic streets.
We need be single-minded to form our face
into the perfect color of a perverted truth;
this evolution is ugliest now,
storming its infection across the world.
We’re walking the streets, the roads,
the twisting spheres bending away; humanity
begging we refuse this council, this deception. One
stride on this earth, one long, delightful use of man;
animal, dying now, ready to live. Our fuel’s the blood
Under our skin, our reckless mind, the contagion.
Understand this; our progression has long commenced.
We cannot forgo its breathing revolution.
We cannot, from its rise, ourselves remove.
O! It will thrash our sticks and stones,
and turn its heaven away from our brutality,
away from our bigotry, our war, our contempt of evolution,
until we dissolve our masks and flee our unbending dreams!
O we need make our pulse in the unknown.
We are the pollen that dropped from the same flower,
eyeless and frightened.
Our worthless dread,
parading our death
over scorched noises.
Maybe we’re not walking the streets and roads...
maybe we’re being carried by the wind?
© 2008 mrp/tpm
Jesus Was Not a Republican
Jonestown - Joshing Politics
Journeys with Jood
Just Ain't Right