The sidewalk loosely guides us
as we drone along on autopilot
gliding between building and street
building and street
building and street
until the sound of honking horns
overpowers our headphones
and we see red hands
prompting us to stop
and for a moment we’re briefly aware of the world
that exists beyond
our fingers and thumbs
until the walking man comes back
and again we distract ourselves with our cellphones
that are miles away from just ringtones and phone calls
and nearly all those we walk past
wouldn’t cast a glance at us,
even if they weren’t staring at a screen
and we would both act shocked
if the other said ‘hello’
we would ignore them
since we have somewhere important to go
and we’re distracted,
minds drifting
shifting gears as we scroll
and this is important
and that is important
and I’m important
and my cellphones is important
and my job is important
and my cat is important
and low-fat is important
and this and that are important
and gluten-free is important
and TV is important
and it’s important I make it to that local corporate coffee shop
before I get to work
they have one on every block
between here and the office…
and the horn honks
and the red hand demands we stop again…
And we can stop pretending that we care
saying, ‘it’s not my fault the worlds not fair,
I pay my fair share to society’
through our cellphone screen we cannot see
that we pay for massive inequality
we pay for the bombs that drop out of sight
on helpless people we have no right to kill
we might say, ‘that’s terrible’
but we pay for it still,
shrugging, ‘but it’s God’s will…’
and all of our hands have long been red
but we never stop to count the dead
the collateral damage
the black
the brown
dying in far off lands
and in New York town…
and you’re having a hard time
trapped on the sidewalk
but the walking man is back again
and coffee black again
and bomb Iraq again
and we’re off track again
and Eden burns
and Syria learns
lessons in democracy
that they don’t show you on your TV
and the student learns nothing
from the teacher
and Dr. King wasn’t just a preacher
he preached against war
and violence
and fifty years ago April 4th
he said it was time
to break the silence
but exactly one year later
he was silenced
the dream was already becoming a nightmare then
and today, we don’t dare speak up
we shrug as April 15th creeps up
and we go to Turbotax or H & R Block
and we follow the flock
and just a few more blocks
until we trade more stock
and we buy sticks and stones
and we buy tanks and drones
and raw materials for these cellphones
and we break hearts and bones
but we’re paying off our student loans
and yes I know where our taxes go
but I can’t change how the winds may blow
though the the truth may glow like a lightbulb
in front of me
this cellphone screen
is all I see
think it makes us free
but we lose the ‘we’…
the red hand rises
we’re the ones who bleed
we gasp for air now
consumed with fear and greed
by wolves we pay to lead
and they will always feed
on both you and me
and we start to see
but we avert our eyes
as we pay to level villages
and silence cries
we’d rather just get drunk on reassuring lies
and we adjust our ties and walk into work
while blood drips from our coffee cup
and cracked i-Phone…
Bless me father, I have sinned
and now I must atone
but religion’s not the answer
and I cannot condone
such narrow minded thinking
please open up your eyes
we don’t even care
when the baby Jesus dies
we kill him everyday
just like the Romans did
we found Pandora’s box
and we threw away the lid
and they hid and hide the truth
about why we drop our bombs
yes, we pay our taxes
but on Sundays we sing psalms
and it calms us when we take these pills
and eat this bread
the circus is perpetual
ignore the dead
until the newsman tells us
that we should be sad
then it’s bombs away
we wave our flags
and fuck Baghdad
or wherever else
they tell us that we need to bomb…
but that wasn’t collateral damage
it was someone’s mom
sister, daughter, brother, father,
and someone’s son
someone’s grandmother
and grandfather,
what have we done?
and we keep doing it
perpetually
and all they have to say is
‘freedom isn’t free’.
When we disagree, they yell
‘unlawful assembly!’
then haul us off to jail
to make us try to see
that ignorance is bliss
and Uncle Sam is right…
you are property,
we own you
please don’t try to fight
we tell you when to stop
and tell you when to go
watch your TV
it will tell you
all you need to know
and the circuses will help your hands
stay pearly white
while keeping civilian death tolls
out of mind and sight.
Please have a beer at night
or two, or three, or four
and then you’ll forget
that we’re still at war
even though your cousin’s on her 7th tour
and she’ll no doubt have more
because of endless war.
You may sleep fine at night
but both your hands are red
and your soul will not be saved
by all those lies you’re fed
it’s not just that you’re silent
but that you pay for war
and all it is begetting is a lot more war
and we all lock our doors
and we all drink our Coors
but the walking man is gone now
we’re stuck with Babylon’s whore
though she is not a woman
just an orange man
who takes over
fifteen years into Afghanistan
and cheers come from his subjects
as he bombs Assad
helping ISIS,
are you kidding me?
No, there is no God.
The Sermon on the Mount
was preached by mortal man
there is no God to save us
but if we all try, we can.
Lets stop waiting for miracles
to come our way
and stop waiting on saviors
bound to save the day
no use to hope and pray.
There’ll be a brighter day
with no more jars of clay
when we stop funding war
and let the children play.
soitgoes1984 