The Dancer
Democracy lies with the ashes of the Ancient Greeks,
Or under long eroded heels of the invading sons of Romulus,
But it breathes not on this land nor in this time,
Yet we persist slumbered in the illusion.
Mankind blindly strides the green mile,
As leaders enveloped in swaying flags
gorge on rights and freedoms for our supposed protection;
Hacking at our dreams and futures.
The leaders play their instruments,
An unharmonious cacophony bellows from the orchestra,
Fanning flames for both sides of the argument,
Another teat added to duality, delivering separation,
How we suckle like ravenous pigs,
Justified in our lopsided stance as we prepare for the slaughter,
Fattened up by the loop that traverses all of history;
The drawing of the line.
Do not mistaken me,
There is a line that divides mankind,
But it is not colour, creed, race nor religion,
Nor whatever else we willingly offer.
In each and every one of us,
Drawn by our own hands
is the line that always keeps
one’s self on the right side of Man and Beast.
The given line stands vindicated,
For it is not far from our individual line;
And we get grouped by the proximity of individual lines to theirs.
This line must be defended,
Our survival depends on it,
And those on the wrong side of the line,
Are not human.
The line to divide me and you
if not chosen by us in our blinkered state,
will get programmed into us,
as we unknowingly synchronize ourselves
to discordant wavelengths.
The real Me within is buried under flesh and ego,
As I am bombarded mercilessly in this slumbered state.
Cavalry after cavalry reinforce beliefs and attitudes,
And trample any seedlings of sovereign thoughts.
So stealth bombers
slip under the radar,
the damage is never known
but through me it is shown.
An agenda compliant media owned by a select few,
Give me the instructional ‘news’ in between the important stuff,
Like whose nipple fell out at which award,
And as long as I get that;
I. Am. Happy.
Indoctrinated en masse,
Then watch us all keep each other in check,
Our family, friends, work colleagues, course mates………..
Countless sheep and not a dog in sight.
For even in the illusion of freedom
we refuse to exercise it fully,
And a person will do what it takes
to stay on the 'right' side of the line.
If life is like a box of chocolate,
Reality is a pick and choose confectionary,
Where we determine what is real and fake,
For we filter blinkered snapshots of infinity
to consolidate our finite narrow view.
Speculation becomes certainty,
Alleged becomes fact,
A lie becomes true,
And the poisoner behind is the taster in front.
This endearing trait of ours is known
and harnessed relentlessly;
As we are coupled to the chosen line.
It has been said
Divided we fall,
But to be grouped in this way;
United we fall together.
Enemies real or not are presented to us,
And we rally round the flag he or she is draped in,
Call dissenters unpatriotic,
And let loose the dogs of war.
Then the leaders state “Mission Accomplished”,
Exit the stage when it is time,
And along comes another.
Left and right doesn’t change a thing,
other than the face of the leader and the colour of the party.
Different arms are controlled by the same thoughts.
Primed as all our ‘options’ are,
Conveyor belt of endless genetically modified Pinocchio’s,
To carry the baton along.
We fall for the empty promises,
Our inability to learn is matched only by the absurdity
That the better world we yearn for
Will be made for us.
In a world of billions
it’s the same gene pool that crops up again and again to lead us.
Distant cousins on distant lands,
take both my hands;
Father to son would be too obvious,
well it should have been.
And these leaders create situations that create danger,
Then bring in law after law,
Danger remains freedom fades,
And ironically we give it up freely.
For leaders to get at their real enemy,
They need to present enemies real or not.
Why?
If there is no one to fight,
There is no one for them to use
against me and you.
The greatest threat to his own rule,
Comes from his ‘own’ people,
For the true enemy to any leader;
Is his ‘own’ people.
But me and you,
Why can’t we get along?
If we are pricked do we not bleed?
Tolerance I hear you cry?
To put up with???????
That my ears should hear the callous smirk of tolerance,
And the dry laugh that erupts from my chest,
shredding my throat.
When we can not even put up with those we love;
How our children grow up strangers under the same roof,
Lonely and misunderstood,
Brought up by TV and the internet,
While our discarded parents stare at echoes in the nest,
Or sat waiting to die in care homes;
And us, with the wrong priorities in our hands
and treading with all our might,
Let tolerance return to whence it came,
For I will not tolerate tolerance, it is not needed,
What is needed is change.
Change our leaders? Why?
We have got the leaders we deserve.
No?
Let me say once again, we have got who we deserve………..
Our leaders are a reflection of us,
They are a reflection of a society we are a part of.
We criticize what we are,
We criticize what we are afraid to acknowledge in ourselves,
And we project and deflect.
We criticize the very things that made us open our eyes,
Their very nature of extreme polarity instigated our journey,
For before them we were blind,
We were content, and content people don’t do a thing,
We just sit and wallow in it;
For without them,
Who would set sail to the undiscovered country; the truth?
You still say leaders? Why? Because they have the power,
and the control and we have nothing for they took it all from us?
No they didn’t,
We let them have it,
We gave it willingly,
Because we are led.
If you are not willing to lead yourself as a sovereign entity,
Then you will lead yourself as a programmed one,
And if you are programmed,
Rest assured it isn’t your shadow that follows you.
Leaders are not to blame, for the blame lies on our shoulders,
Society is not theirs to create, for without us
they are emperors in empty palaces.
We want to change the steps,
but we are dancing to the discordant melody
We want to change what we hear,
but we are playing the cacophony.
This is our creation;
Reality is our painting.
Every one of us
has painted our own stroke on the canvas.
Yet we look at the results and see different things.
We want to change the painting, but how?
We can not change reality by
imposing anything on anybody else.
To do so means we sow the seeds of the fall of
any society that decrees it must change.
The words may carry the sweet scent
of peaceful summer meadows,
but rest assured in the winter of discontent
these will be Somme’s of the future.
The buildings of the future are built on the foundations of the past.
Each one of us has a brick, and it is up to us what we build.
But we change nothing by changing society.
For paradise is not something that changes us into good people,
we don’t go to heaven and then become good.
How can heaven even have people like me and you in it?
And if society is a building, a painting;
which makes it a physical manifestation of our thoughts,
beliefs, state of being;
then we are looking in the wrong direction.
The gates of heaven are not on the outside,
They are within.
What we build on the outside is a
reflection of the inner.
So...........that endless pointing finger of ours,
Should it not be pointed at the root of it all?
Should I not make the change that I so sorely want to see in this world,
by changing the only thing I have the right to change on my own;
by changing the only thing I can truly change on my own;
by changing the person who dances to the cacophony?
Me
Author Notes
"Winter of Discontent" (Steinbeck J., 2001,The Winter Of Our Discontent,Penguin Modern Classics).
The original source is actually Richard the Third Act 1, Scene 1, 1-4
"Richard:
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried."
(Shakespeare W., 1623, Richard The Third)
"Dogs of War" (Shakespeare W., 1623, Julius Caesar)
"Distant cousins on distant lands,
take both my hands" Paraphrasing the song Golden Brown by The Stranglers.
"If we are pricked do we not bleed?" Based on the speech ""If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" by Shylock. ( Shakespeare W., 1623, Merchant of Venice)
“United we stand, divided we fall” Phrase from “The Four Oxen and the Lion” (Aesop’s Fables, 620-560 BC)
“Life is like a box of Chocolate” Phrase from movie: Forrest Gump (1994) Based on a novel by the same name (Groom W, 1986, Forrest Gump, Washington Square Press)
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