We are a revoulution: An attempt at slam poetry.

April 29, 2008

What is life but a conscience composition?
We broke the waking dream and made the world listen,
our good glistens,
like badges of the heart,
i'm screaming rhyme schemes as an action of my art,
an artist acts on artistic vision,
in a prison of
mind
body
and holy mother earth,
the workers provisions
burning up inside a hearth,
hark! yet!
what is that we hear?
the world whispers white lies within our ear,
and its our only fear
that it wont be here,
we got tomorrow,
pray for months,
and hope we get a year,
a single tear,
drops onto the pillow,
the cold side is the best,
like the earth it turns,
and we lay down to rest,
restlessly repeating rotations,
as we resemble rainbow trout,
and dream what life's about,
writing rabid words while sitting,
all the notes i'm hitting,
i find it fitting,
the the flow within me found,
some noises to escape me,
and turn them in to sound,
a full file of fire like words,
adjectives, nouns and occasional verbs,
If metaphors are medicine I over medicate,
stupidity's a sickness for which I have escaped,
Equality's a nightmare to the man in power,
exploiting all we do by paying by the hour,
treated as parking meters,
driven like two seaters,
a world of meat eaters,
and cannibals,
I'd eat a man alive, but I'd never hurt an animal,
intangible lyrics
that never break or bend
the outcome is the same as we all die in the end,
so don't depend on deities,
doubt all duties told,
we are a revolution our souls cannot be sold,
our statement must be bold,
our will will break the mold,
WE ARE A REVOLUTION AND OUR SOULS WILL NEVER EVER IN THIS TIME OR ANY OTHER,
be sold,
and by the way,
your dinners getting cold.