See there is a whole other



that lies beneath the surface.


everybody likes to talk about it;

act as if they know about it;


they like to say what’s wrong with it

they like to breed dissent within it;

keep us fighting amongst ourselves

never looking at what’s going on behind the curtain;


blind sided with knee

jerk emotional appeals

disguised as legislation

that only furthers their own robber Barron agenda of social enslavement

keeping the people

hungry     tired     angry   poor     distracted

all the while

contently vomiting Orwell nightmares                                           thru the eyes and into the head

keeping the brain numb

and immersed in shit

tamed and compliant


with constant streaming live feed media input immediate gratification buy now consumerism learned stupidity disguised as entertainment




and we have failed.

Poets and Bards

had been the front line troops for every revolution of social reform…

always there spreading the word;

sharing the reality               the degradations          the experience;

until now.

We have failed our calling.           We have failed the poets before us

We have failed our heritage of DEFIANCE.           We have failed ourselves…

Used to be it was dangerous to be a poet;               to express new and undisguised ideas

road weary voices that called for change

endured the loneliness,                                                   the ridicule and disdain;

the beatings                                               and jailing’s

for violation of murky             and obscure obscenity laws

the hunger       the addictions  the drunkenness the madness

the brawls the sex                                             the suicides the LONELY dying

and the FEAR..                                                                                                                       always the FEAR

gnawing at your mind like hunger crazed rats…

Where are our Bukowskis;                                 who will be our Blake

our Rimbaud, Bauldere; Verlaine

where the fuck is our Kerouac,                     our Ginsberg,                                   our Whitman?

Where is our Poe?

Where is our Fear?

Where is our VOICE?

where is the defiance



embrace that motherfucking god-head defiance that makes poets,

that drives us to madness                                          and addictions

and every other experience

that we can possibly suffer to flood our minds with;

that defiance that makes us say to the masters




To raise our voices     to wash away the stench

of all the dddd..double talk fine print political head spin doctors weaving honeyed nightmares of mind killing nonsense

Are we so lost…

have we no star to guide us;

no witches or shamans

has the mount become insurmountable…

or do we come together as a guild


a union; a legion of voices.

Do we catch the fear

ride it;

feed from it;

grow from it

learn from it

teaching each other to become it


Do we sing our defiance as birthing challenging thoughts of change

do we sing to the SOCIAL ELITE a song of fear

do we become as wolves ranging the land primal natural

red eyed and hungry;                                         always hungry…


or do we lower our heads;

and bleat with the other sheep

awaiting the sheers

and then the butcher?

©, 2014


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