Rant

[Stinkyfinger]

From, like, everywhere, man, every corner and square,
every outta' the way lair, opulent and spare,
people are startin' to gather again, they're gettin' down,
brothers and sisters of all classes and kinds,
hipsters, flipsters, tripsters, new and vital mouths,
are mouthin' off over rights and wrongs,
they're croonin' soulful, woeful songs,
shovin' sanctified mish-mash, edified brain-bash,
down the throats of our legislative fetters,
our so-called betters, 'bout all those ersatz katz
out there, and their bullshit bellicose regard
for our burnin', yearnin' earth, the birth and
consecrated worth of our dynamic struggle,
We're like a thrice born phoenix, man,
submerged in a new and laudable ethos,
converging, emerging as a bold pathos of
shimmering design and purpose,
we're strugglin' to smile in the bitter black
goo of complacency and diabolic resolve,
we're screamin' and wailin' at the 'all hailin' man',
at the barbed, razor-wire hands of justice,
and obscene and haggard truth,
at the vicarious nefarious laxity of the
absurd bureaucratic horde, empowered by the
despot's desperate sword, and lording pedagogic
above us, the enlightened fray;
they're preachin' obvious crap and diligent confusion,
and smashin', mashin', bashin' down
hard on our righteous decrees,
man, we're bein' dragged by these windbags,
we're bein' flagged as fools, or 'quasi', retro, 'I dunno'
hippies by all these beasts of vile rhetoric and
outright, 'what-a-sight' obfuscation,
(all scantily clad in psuedo ethical rags);

We gotta' rise up, man, we gotta' march, bark,
harangue, cover the national green with ideas,
we gotta' wake up the dumbin' down youth,
the pretentiously uncouth, who're afraid of sweat or tears,
man, we gotta' bang outta' call, amass at the mall,
and demand accountability and change,
‘cause everywhere there’s a sign, some kinda’ display,
a bargain, indeed, that their smile lures such prey,
as you and me and everything else, that depends on truth,
is lain in graves softly, with such care, forsooth,
and out amongst the dust, all across this grand land,
the ravages of naivety and helplessness abide,
I mean, America's killin' her children,
puttin' 'em to death, in chairs or with needles,
provokin' stares and salivation,..
and fire stokers, freedom invokers,
they're all rottin' from their scars,
in the name of the stars-and-bars,
while the earth's real murderers are walkin'
around fancy-free, like fat fuckin’rats,
pokin' and proddin', drillin' death out of the
ground, and spewin' it into the sky;
We've gotta scream and aspire, despite all
the threats and shrugs from behind those
insulated walls, and the air-conditioned halls,
the well-kept, wellsprings of deceit,
so we can end this all inclusive shame,
for which, we, primarily, are to blame, this tearing of
our nation and soul apart;
we've gotta' rise up, man, and kick some ass,
we must remake our world, and take ‘em to task,
and do justice to the righteous causes of disrepair.

[hester_prynne]

We gotta!
Really dig this

H

[mtmynd]

"we've gotta' rise up, man, and kick some ass,
we must remake our world, and take ‘em to task,
and do justice to the righteous causes of disrepair".

hell yes!

well done, s/f.