Rebel Poetry

We The People

by Rebel D

 

People, your voices hold force blast [Mother of all Bombs]

your bellies are lightweight assault rifles

your lips —trigger-locked,  hands on weapon

your thoughts protrude over the Patriot Act

your bodies frozen in Syrian raids

your mouths are tireless in wheels of homegrown terror

your teeth bite-off rage on streets of Denver

whose words burst cluster bombs over police batons

 

your tongues taste dirt cakes of Haiti

we the people, whose rib bones hang over Sudan

whose torsos held stools for Greensboro lunch counters

with spines climbing through The things they carried

whose genders chained logic to voting rights

whose pigment popped seeds in fields of short handled-hoe

 

our wrists handcuffed with economic razor blades

with hope buried in dirt –the blood-soil of Indian nations

worming into the cracks of capitalism’s countless occupations

 

we, the people whose knees are weary of grime

whose guts soothe  pock-mark of USian interest

rests for heads weeping   /  support for hearts rejoicing

the empire is falling

 

your finger-tops tap whirlwinds into pacifists

renaming your streets / reclaiming walls with graffiti bombs

your eyes are Iraq war vet silent in Oakland’s hospital bed

smokey blanket of sound grenades, pillow of rubber bullets

 

the people whose eyelids burn with Tunisia’s vegetable peddler

blocking roads / laying down lives in Cairo

whose bones are Libyan rebels taking back Martyr’s Square

 

with our furrowed brows we wrench gears of systematic turning

your skins protect dried out skin walking the Sonoran desert

your knuckle-force wrapped around rifled minutemen

round racist vigilante border control  / round Mexican mother’s unrest

 

with your minds exploding Titans on USian streets

your retinas absorb  Wall Street mercenaries

your stomachs digest gay marriage’s discontent

your excrement destructs Keystone pipeline horrors

your feet hold ankles marching across Brooklyn’s bridge

your lungs release kites above Palestine

your words hot in the fires of resistance

you play on fields of a monitored existence

 

segregation stole my father’s ability to sound out words

yet, I stand here, with his feet

using his hands to wield this wand of language

don’t tell me this doesn’t make a difference

don’t tell me we have to passively vote for change

 

We the people will work an uprising into muscles

We the people whose shadows move money

across bankster barricades into palms of revolution

We are the agents of insurrection

From Tahrir Square to Liberty Plaza

Milwaukee to Oscar Grant Plaza

North Dakota to Dewey Square

Across Roman streets

from Denmark to Greece

standing on Portland’s Steel Bridge

Over one thousand cities liberating

We the people right here

We the people of the world

 

We the people

We the people

We the people

 

We the people

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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One thought on “Rebel Poetry

  1. gustavo says:

    goosebumps

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