Un-Skinned

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Tricky - Evolution Revolution Love (4:07)

UN-SKINNED
We are all walking these streets
Under our own abysmal verdict.

Frequently we hear that we’re faced
by avoidable contamination. We’ve heard it before,
that we must breed our skin apart from those others
until our masks are solid and chaste,
irremovable, useless. Force the skin’s hue down,
imprison our colors on the nomadic streets.

We need be single-minded to form our face
into the perfect color of a perverted truth;
this evolution is ugliest now,
storming its infection across the world.

We’re walking the streets, the roads,
the twisting spheres bending away; humanity
begging we refuse this council, this deception. One
stride on this earth, one long, delightful use of man;
animal, dying now, ready to live. Our fuel’s the blood
Under our skin, our reckless mind, the contagion.

Understand this; our progression has long commenced.
We cannot forgo its breathing revolution.
We cannot, from its rise, ourselves remove.
O! It will thrash our sticks and stones,
and turn its heaven away from our brutality,
away from our bigotry, our war, our contempt of evolution,
until we dissolve our masks and flee our unbending dreams!

O we need make our pulse in the unknown.
We are the pollen that dropped from the same flower,
eyeless and frightened.
Our worthless dread,
motionless souls,
splintered hearts,
cagey minds,
thrashed hopes,
derelict empathy,
throttled voices,
parading our death
over scorched noises.

Maybe we’re not walking the streets and roads...
maybe we’re being carried by the wind?

© 2008 mrp/tpm


Tricky - Make a Change (6:01)

Rolling along "J"...Jade Gate - Jakester Express - Jesus Was Not a Republican - Jonestown - Joshing Politics - Journeys with Jood - June Revolution - Just Ain't Right

Stop the Clash of Civilizations

Thank you to Willie of Peace is Active!

The Slug

I sat there for over an hour just staring at the screen, or three hundred and seven thousand weightless pixels. Imagine that, I was weighing up weightlessness. (It’s a hell of a lot harder than it sounds…) As I stared fruitlessly at the monitor, contemplating the fate of yet another dying minute, it smothered me like a ton of bones, a load of bleached, human bone tumbling down upon me at the pace of a fading day, slower than that even; measured, like the pace of this massive, evolutionary slug that edged along our back porch sucking up all kinds of shit along its way. Slug! That was it. That was what I was to write about. A miserable, ugly, slimy, seemingly useless slug. It’s not like a slug is going to give a rat’s ass what my blog post is about anyway, right? I mean he’s got more pressing things to tend to than some halfcocked poet with writer’s block; he’s got shit to gather, filth to collect, inches to go. I imagine if my wife had been there she’d have begged me put it out of its misery. To which I’d probably have replied, “You mean out of our misery, right?”

I’m tired. Tired of our killing things because we find them unsightly, or alien, or darker… Wouldn’t it be better if we were to look the other way and wrangle with our own unsightly sliminess? I’m so drained. So goddamned drained of all the fear and ignorance and hate that bring men to kill the best of things and wallow in the least. Sick and tired at the ease with which we’ll turn our back on our heads for absurd profit and frivolous pacification of useless, greedy goddamned habits. I’m physically and mentally fatigued by man’s sluggishness, by his failings, by my own shortcomings. Mine.

All this from a miserable, ugly, slimy slug edging along the porch. Today, and I regretfully imagine tomorrow, man will not have traveled as far.

Why Doth Man So Slowly...

(A Poetic Justice Photomontage)