To go through the motions
In an leaden toxic day
With mundanity favoured  
Over fine thought foreplay,
Where the average are comfortable,
Just don't rock the boat,
Where original thought proffered
Cause the dead eyes to float.

How deadly dull this canvass
How pallid, sad  and bland
Where none take up the gauntlet
To run with it in hand,
Where no one makes commitment
To scream, "dullards awake"!!
With roaring red oratory
And a floor thumping shake.

Hitting the straps
With contention ablaze
Wild eyes magnetically
Willing to craze.
Windmilling arms
And demeanour to match
Has the mob on it's toes
Ears straining to catch.

Where a speaker will stand
With the veins in his neck
Protruding like  rip chords,
Spat saliva does fleck,
As he throws his delivery
Out to the crowd
And they sway with the passion
And scream back aloud!

It's communion at last
And the prize is at hand
....A sharp satisfaction,
An achievement so grand.
For in lifting the bar,
Thereby raising the odds,
To prime social reaction
From ordinary bods.

Marshalg
@Grandpa Vern's Bach
Wanganui
29 December 2009