You once stood for something.
When they told you "NO"
you stood like a black-eyed-susan.
like the tao.
but when they beat you, betrayed you,
hogtied and pepper sprayed you,
you got angry.
You did things that soiled your good name.
I guess you just should have learned to take it,
like the tao.
like the tao, and wait.
like the tao and let the waters rise.
like the tao and overcome.
the weak overcome the tyranny of man with numbers.
as each drop of water equally starts the flood.
like each living being that has ever thought
"I will overcome."
I will overcome.
I WILL OVERCOME.
WE WILL OVERCOME.
OR AT LEAST WE'LL DIE TRYING YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!
Et Tu Brute hey everywhere people are sick of it.
The informality of brutality.
How it just seems alright to take a life.
Because for some reason yours wasn't worth anything at all.
And in the equality of the end gasped in one last breath.
Trying to tap out to no prevail alas so trivial.
No large funeral for you just a simple alas a do.
The class war had already begun it's just you forgot to notice.
As Nixon said end this war and there's bound to be another one.
Protest to no avail.
Civil unrest disobedience.
All the ingredients.
Like Stevie Wonder on some Mystic voyage of plunder.
Transcendental meditation .
Matter of fact just imagine if everyone took to the streets only to meditate peace.
How could they infiltrate peace?Peace doesn't throw garbage cans thru storefront windows or light Molotov cocktails on fire or tip over cars.
The hippies say bring back the Human- B in's
Get rid of the stand-in's with there poor posturin'.
Now I understand the big giant ohm.
Trying to create some harmonic space.
Keep it classy barefoot contessa.
With your bees knees.
Cat's paws by the sea.
An envelop while we walk on New Years Eve.
With your thoughts of a year forgot.
Or forget me knot.
Your state of flower power.
One hop and a skip
one more trip
and I slip into dreaming
effort, less me,
seemingly floating while
swimming through syrup,
my feet in the stirrups
on a horse called
Laughter in the cloisters and
the toaster pulling faces
while the priest catches monkeys
that swing through the
If life is for anything it cannot be this.
Had my quotient of the quote machines quibbling quicktime platitudes of electronically manufactured attitudes.
Meant only to obscure the stark economic reality of the tinny times we are being crushed under.
Sold, scrapped and scraped in the GMO controlled landscape void of bees, flowers and trees.
It brought me to my knees.
That world resulting in economic slavery to a debit I can't pay anyway.
I exist for beauties sake.
With a thirst that can not be slaked.
My reflection in the well.
I recognize the face.
A flower child.