She Wore White To The Hanging

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She wore white to the hanging
Fingers smudged from setting the patriarchy to burn
She wore a guilty smile
For they would never ever seem to learn

By her beauty, they were always distracted
But her brains they never could comprehend
Once the fire went viral
They wished they could call her a friend

They picked such an angelic foe
Yet kept her bound by tradition & canon & law
But you can never chain ideas down
Imprudence by the state was the final straw

Continual pandering as a cultural trait
Overwrought force; their idea as the solution
The spark still smoldering in her eyes
Never again the victim, she’s the whole damn revolution

*This is a reaction to rewatching the movie Cat Ballou with modern eyes.

Touched By The Whim Of God

Touched by the whim of God
Revolutions in the unlikeliest of places
Tasting the perfect tilt to her hips
My benign lunacy comes in traces

Diluted measurements by midmorning
With inconvenient virtues & unholy glee
Bringing small obsessions in my mind
When the local widows invite me for tea

Entering only after a courteous introduction
No need to intrude on our nebulous beliefs
A shared sacrilege when I watch her curtsey
Dropping to our knees; praying for some relief

Sheets & Reams Of The Nonsensical

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Sheets & reams of the nonsensical
Literary blood lost in the shadow of ink
The lifeforce of a simmering soul
Marginal hearts writing love against the kitchen sink
Leaving behind the caricature of an artist
Contributions to society felt in these empty sheets
Fingersmudges marking pages not so white
Starkly exposed with revolutionary words in the streets
Traces of hereditary ideals eroding away
Igniting pages shall still be a stilted sin
Yet we rise again from our desert floor
Eternally grateful our finite letters aren’t porcelain

Civil Disobedience

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Civil disobedience
Marching against their sullen grain
Public executions of our citizens
The ones whom systematically resemble our pain

Exhibitions of our worst character traits
The trembling hands with transcribed blood
Outside of the panoramic eye
Yet all the same, caught in the seismic flood

A taciturn refusal to simply exist
Check your feed for what revolutionaries say
Bold proclamations & campaign slogans
But eventually the media hype fades away

Some other crime or scandal to catch your eye
Lights, cameras & we all return to normal instead
Forgetting those who can’t whore for Zuckerberg
But the people still live with a price on their head

Unplugging From The Mainframe

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Unplugging from the mainframe
Remaining forever off the grid
Don’t need their connections
Don’t know if we ever truly did

The final tragic hero of a modern culture
The soul survivor of a discarded revolution
Histories & experience outside the norm
Dreams of freedom with divine attribution

Dealing with the conceits of perfection
The concepts of loneliness & betrayal
This world isn’t what we were promised
Token hints lost behind a fractured veil

The answers are hidden beyond this life
It may look bleak, but don’t you fret
We have the Source of Light
& they’re still riding that ol’ dialup internet

A Dreamer Of Hope In This Jaded World

A dreamer of hope in this jaded world
The cutting edge of a disinherited brigade
Avant-garde though we’re quite tame
Collecting ideas, though dusty, will never fade

Manifest destiny is a crippling crutch
A mere novelty for a spoilt rich kid
Mankind doesn’t deserve such trumpery
& these militant spirits can never be hid

Be proactive in your revolutions
The rhetoric tied to the strings in their back
Politicians are ideologues with ripped seams
Promising anything to increase their stacks

Opinions are constitutionally protected lies
Our submissions will dictate the norm
Disguising etiquette with a 20 Pound note
Anti-conformity is another path to conform

Can We Puncture Our Transcendent Eyes

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Can we puncture our transcendent eyes
Feeling fantasies no one can understand
Trapped behind responsibility & expectation
Failing to grasp foundations as we planned
The difference in our souls transmit
Expounded by the beatings of our hearts
Revolutions begin when the cerebral are tired
But their might will never sever our parts
You cannot be weak if you’re truly weird
There’s no time for the molecules to rearrange
These burdens of an unimaginative society
Simply cannot fathom the depth of how you’re strange