Tyres and fires burning
circles of rubber
Rolled down black tongued roads
Heading to city centre
Where others meet
To greet the mighty ruler
With sword and soldiers dressed
In fibreglass shields, green helmets
truncheons with spikes backed water cannons
snipers on rooftops searching for vipers
to drill bullet holes
The tyres rolled in and rounded in a circle
Cutting off escape routes and
Dividing believers and non-believers
Piled high, pulled tight with pitchfork patience
The leaders orders more tyres.
Anything from cars, buses and bicycles
that could hold up the chains of freedom.
Last desperate attempt - not to escape but die
In the ring of fire -soon lit
Underneath the tyres
Which created bursting black flames and bluegrey smoke
Rising above the rants of leaders and shooters
and crackling. Sparks that dulled the day
And lit the night with sparklers of power.
The paratroopers soon retreated into barracks
and the rioters took hold of the city keys,
And over broken glass and burnt buildings
settled in for the long haul to freedom.
The pawns moved on the chess board
knights moved in the night,
The queen was cornered
and checkmate came when the hollow president
flew the palace with his coterie of
ear chewers and shoe polishers!
The tyres burned slowly
the fires burned down slowly.
Freedom came at dawn on the 21 st day
when the rubber factory churned out again
many new models of tyres with tougher treads.
The circle begins again today.
Author Notes
The Revolution continues. All common day gadgets that could burn and blister the new agenda is rolled down the road into the city centre where the
protesters gather to set fire to ambitious policies, unpopular with the people.
The fires from tyres will rage all night and day.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
Tyres and fires burning
circles of rubber
Rolled down black tongued roads
Heading to city centre
Where others meet
To greet the mighty ruler
With sword and soldiers dressed
In fibreglass shields, green helmets
truncheons with spikes backed water cannons
snipers on rooftops searching for vipers
to drill bullet holes
The tyres rolled in and rounded in a circle
Cutting off escape routes and
Dividing believers and non-believers
Piled high, pulled tight with pitchfork patience
The leaders orders more tyres.
Anything from cars, buses and bicycles
that could hold up the chains of freedom.
Last desperate attempt - not to escape but die
In the ring of fire -soon lit
Underneath the tyres
Which created bursting black flames and bluegrey smoke
Rising above the rants of leaders and shooters
and crackling. Sparks that dulled the day
And lit the night with sparklers of power.
The paratroopers soon retreated into barracks
and the rioters took hold of the city keys,
And over broken glass and burnt buildings
settled in for the long haul to freedom.
The pawns moved on the chess board
knights moved in the night,
The queen was cornered
and checkmate came when the hollow president
flew the palace with his coterie of
ear chewers and shoe polishers!
The tyres burned slowly
the fires burned down slowly.
Freedom came at dawn on the 21 st day
when the rubber factory churned out again
many new models of tyres with tougher treads.
The circle begins again today.
Author Notes
The Revolution continues. All common day gadgets that could burn and blister the new agenda is rolled down the road into the city centre where the
protesters gather to set fire to ambitious policies, unpopular with the people.
The fires from tyres will rage all night and day.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
