I scanned the stanzas of some bard,
which, as they landed, hit home - hard.
How could a dead man know such truth,
who'd died dishonoured, stripped of youth?

Down generations flew his words,
their talons sharp, like fearsome birds
sent through the centuries to tell
us all about his manmade hell.

The less we learned, the more was lost;
so today, we've passed on the cost
incurred by long-untempered greed:
the earth, we've sold off at a speed

beyond his nightmare's wildest flights
whilst refugees, whose tragic plights
shame all mankind, die, drowned at sea
or slain for wanting to live free,

their lives a strain on some pig's purse.
Meanwhile, all we do now is curse
for only words are free these days,
our actions deemed a damned disgrace,

at least by those who'd rule our lives.
They point their guns and leave us knives
then order us to blunt their edge
and send out thugs with law and badge

to make damned sure we only carve
morsels to eat, and neatly starve.
That way, the hungry masses stay
subdued, their protests kept at bay

behind a wall of hunger meant
to keep their anger lean and spent
on those - their neighbours - who believe
the 'facts' to which their selves don't cleave.

And so it goes: a country split
between those twits who won't admit
their fellow man as equal too,
who scrimp and save, and just make do;

in fact, not even words are free,
as anyone with brains must see:
for should they try to speak their mind
they'll be judged 'woke', or worse, maligned

as too extreme and thrown in gaol
for having had the gall to nail
(or glue) their colours to the mast,
who want the future, not the past

to be our noble nature's aim.
Life's not a game, but all the same
it has its rules, and those rules state
that we should treat with love, not hate

each other's wish to earn respect
(yes, 'earn' - it's not ours to expect
that such a valuable thing
should be the due of lord and king,

much less some god who claims the right
without fair cause.) Take up the fight;
call out those who depend on might,
who only power and wealth requite,

and don't let anyone dictate
the way you live, nor legislate
to rob you of autonomy
(for they prefer your anomie

to be the ballast of your days,
wherein depression blunts your gaze
and drives the focus of your mind
inward, which serves to leave you blind

to all the problems of the world);
reclaim the streets, banners unfurled
and don't let any bastard take
your rights away, or mock as fake

the truth of all you know is good;
nor let said bastards spill your blood
in any cause that they might name
because they lie and dole out blame

to rob you of your liberty
and shackle righteous agency
by making you a humbled drone,
unorganised at work, alone

and lacking solidarity -
that means by which, together we
can lead our better lives, unchained,
and with our dignity regained,

not have to pass through life as slaves
and milked for profit to our graves.
With revolution pursing lips
we must forge new relationships

that don't rely on privilege
or that're bought for any wage
save those of merit and respect
and only when their skills reflect

back firstly on our common needs
and secondly that never feeds
the hunger of rapacious greed's
desire to go where money leads.

With revolution as our goal
we needn't spurn the past at all;
for focusing on tomorrow
instead means we shouldn't borrow

any of yesteryear's tired tropes
when what we need's not fears but hopes
to guide us away from danger.
We'll do better - and less stranger -

by trusting in ourselves for once.
If we, that once just took a chance
then with smarter education
we might evolve from this nation

spent up and rotten, inside out,
rabid, poxy, riddled with gout
and rank with stink of bigotry.
We'd leave behind this purgatory

of lives half-lived beneath the yoke
of those who find it such a joke
to want to thrive unburdened by
the brand of laws that twist and tie

both truth and justice to the lie
of class and privilege. Thar's why
I'm here, running off at the pen;
and why i'll keep ranting, again

and again, 'til at last i hear
that manumission's ours, or near,
and we've remembered who we are -
better than who we've been, by far

and capable of so much more
than rape and greed and constant war.
We have our brains so let's use them
to solve and not be the problem.

Is that too much to ask of us?
I'd swear the answer's obvious:
No! We can always beat the odds
without recourse to kings or gods!

MP 213-15423/24924