Revolution...

Everyone knows that the United States has prided itself on the idea of revolution in the attempt to right what is wrong with our government. Politicians once worked for the people. Often times it will take a select group of voices to bring others together when the need for change is nigh. 1776, 1960, 1970. And in Boston, 2009, a "rally" was called to protest impending taxes. A re-enactment of the Boston Tea Party was to end the impending new taxes from being passed. The following video is inherently the best interpretation of how there is no longer (and sadly may never again be) true protest movements, even in Boston, Massachusetts.

"There are not enough hours in the day anymore

Children on a playground
in a rainstorm
Happily

Calling the absurd
the critical voice
and the absurdist
the generation-.

I am perpetually
let down by what I see
on the television each day
and what I wait to read
The Next.

Where did They take them?"

-And I said "It can't happen here."

Sunday Morning, 10:29 a.m.....

I'll write you a letter tomorrow
Tonight I can't hold a pen
Someone's got a stamp that I can borrow
I promise not to blow the address again

Lights that flash in the evening,
Through a crack in the drapes

Jesus rides beside me
He never buys any smokes
Hurry up, hurry up, ain't you had enough of this stuff
Ashtray floors, dirty clothes, and filthy jokes

See you're high and lonesome
Try and try and try

Lights that flash in the evening,
Through a hole in the drapes
I'll be home when I'm sleeping
I can't hardly wait

I can't wait. Hardly wait.

The Replacements - Can't Hardly Wait

Today

To the lynch mob
-laughing before their parade
"I do not know what time it is
-but it cannot be too late"

Faster than
a scurried mind
dropt in water to
later flush out

Whipper-Wilm and Whipper-Woo
Cast the sun
down sunshadow shown
Past the creeks and muddled floom

Musing...

I don't care how far Gone I am. As long as it's Real Gone.

24th Chorus...

24th Chorus
by Jack Kerouac

San Francisco is too sad
Time, I cant understand
Fog, shrouds the hills in
makes unshod feet so cold
Pity the poor Pomo, St. Francis & the birds,
Fills black rooms with day
Dayblack in the white windows
And gloom in the pain of pianos;
Shadows in the jazz age
Filing by; ladders of flappers
Painter’s white bucket
Funny 3 Stooge Comedies
And fuzzy headed Hero
Moofle Lip suck’t it all up
And wondered why
The milk & cream of heaven
Was writ in gold leaf
On a book - big eyes
For the world
The better to see-

Obligations...

In the face
of the homeless man
I see purity
in drive.
Is not the taste
from which he pulls
off the bottled water
not the purest
That any man has ever
tasted?

Stalking down the corner
Highland & Park
completely satisfied.

For a Lady I Know...

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.