Predawn hours with scalding coffee
Reading myths & legends from days of old
Disrupting the current faulty paradigms
Audibly spoken & once more properly told
These distorted visions have escaped
Any deliberate application of thought
No longer shilling for flawed traditions
Nor quoting misfired dissertations gone to rot
Avoid conformity at all cost
Don’t succumb to traditional roles
The last traipsing of the mind
The return of structure of the soul
But you don’t need their approval
Nor the organization of their might
Society’s labels are numb to life
They won’t give you harmony in the dark of night
Jesus was a rouge agent
Calling out institutions woefully unjust
Up-ending currents & the status quo
Powers that be & reigning corporate trusts
Holding fast in the face of arbitrary traditions
We won’t look to long at your offbeat proclivities
Unnerved authenticity & outspoken truth
But they’ll chalk it up as additional incivility
Looking again to God, but knowing She won’t talk
Red-lettered honesty; realism against expectation
Unvarnished tales of the meekest souls
Rapt against our most quietly brave ministrations
Hiding under the guise of tradition
A small man standing atop a pagan tower
Embracing ancient laws full of flaws
From which you exert all your immoral power
In a reversal & dissent from my juvenile thought
I dismiss such thought as stale as Babylon
There’s no place in a progressive society
For mindsets as negative as an electron
I’ve learned a lot in my time here on Earth
Now I know what gets her hotter than Wasabi
It’s as simple as treating women as equals
Instead of deepthroating the code of Hammurabi
Your idols weren’t half the men
They thought they were half a bottle in
Cowardly hiding behind unjust traditions
Sinning while gulping juniper medicinal gin
Their women languishing in the shadows
Cast off from any chance to reach the light
Yet those damsels can see through the dark
The perfect heroine to save an errant knight
Misconstrued notions of dynamic parity
Swabbing the deck with your fallen idol
Ink smudges & literary drudges
Methinks – their mothers should’ve used spermicidal
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.
The voices come calling
Like shattered visitors in the night
Darkness expunged within thought
Auditioning words; trying to get it right
Vapid orations coming from the podium
Stacks of the wrong books & loose leaf notes
The dumbing down makes a tedious existence
But ideas are the traditional spark of an antidote
Captain Q 