By Frank Moore
March 12, 2004
Evolution searches out potential
Within every life form,
Within every experiment,
Flowing through change,
Flowing through adaptations
Into new possibilities.
This tide wave
Moves everything,
Shapes everything,
Leaving everything
Which doesn’t find
The ever changing
Potential within its soul
Behind…
Just didn’t live out
Within the dynamic dance
Of existence.
Failures are the golden steps
Of expanding creation.
But we civilized humans
Have been denied
For most of the blink
Of our history
Most of our potential.
The tide wave
Has been dammed up,
Evolution has been funneled
Down into a narrow,
High pressure laser
Focused for profit and power
Of the hidden few.
Most of our potential
Is locked in,
Locked away,
Locked out,
Locked up.
Locked away in closets,
Locked up in factories
Of meaningless work,
Locked away in warehouses
Of waiting to die…
Death waits
A dull lifetime to come.
Locked outside the margins,
Locked outside on the homeless streets,
Locked inside the suburbs of isolation,
Locked within the walled communities
Of comforting unreasoning fear,
Locked up within well-paid sitcoms,
Locked out toiling in the fields,
Not allowed to eat the food,
Dying in the false famine,
Dying from thirst
In the African dust
Manufactured from bottled demand,
Dying from sickness
Preventable,
Curable,
Locked away within
The dark other,
Locked in the kitchen
Cooking artificial food
Of bland pretending
Routine not fulfilling
Any need or love,
Locked down in chains
On the sofa,
On the shrink’s couch absorbing unattainable desires,
Locked in gridlock,
Not coming,
Not going,
Just sitting within
Unmoving isolation,
Listening to the latest muzak
Of loveless loneliness,
All shining and cold,
Locked away
In the passionless bedroom
With the glass ceiling,
Tied down in the bed of hopelessness,
Tied down,
Locked up in the nursing home,
Lifetimes of wisdom
Dismissed and forgotten,
Locked up in padded cells,
Dangerous healing imagination
Being burned up by electric shock,
Burning up the trash that could
Save us all.
Locked up on Death Row,
Within the isolation cells
Lies change.
It will not die,
Even under tortures
Of ten thousand years.
Just lock it up!
Dam it up
With the oily gum
Of dogma!
Manufacture fear and mistrust
Of the other of difference.
Pour the many flavors
Of this poison
Of bigotry
From childhood
In mother milk,
In God’s image,
On the blackboard
Of coloring within the lines…
Lock what’s acceptable,
Normal,
Within the lines…
Then send these good citizens
Off on crusades of killing
Of the different other,
Of killing off diversity
Which is the curse
Of profitability.
The brew of bigotry
Blinds the eyes
to red is the color
Of all human blood,
Blinds us to
We all are locked in
Locked up,
Locked away
On the plantations
Of slavery,
In the sweatshops
Of suppression,
In the factory farm fields
Of exploitation,
In the occupied territories
Of closing walls,
Of refugee camps
Of wandering Jews,
Of death camps,
Warehouses of all kinds
Filled with waiting-to-die
Living hopes, dreams,
Loves, imaginations,
Cultures of the human spirit
Which do not fit into power,
Wealth, and the controlled reality.
Yep, we all are in there,
Including most of you
Who believe you are
The masters and the guards
In your dank cubbyholes
Of fears and addictions.
And within our cells
We have been digging
Throughout the ages
Underground passages
Linking passions together.
When we reach to touch one another,
The bars melt like butter.
We sing together
In words that the masters
Can’t understand.
We create together,
Dream, imagine together.
We hope and make love
Together behind the dam
In evolution.
The silly mentally retarded girl
Giggles as she runs to hug
An absolute stranger.
This is hope
Of evolution.
The police hose fires
High-pressure profits
Blasting of shortages
Through the dam’s hole…
Business as usual.
But it looks like evolution
Is about to burst through the dam.
Will it destroy all of us?
Who knows!
We always have lived
With Dooms Day
Judgment Day
Around the corner.
Sometimes it came,
Sometimes it didn’t.
But I’m betting
That our underground potential
Will be released in the coming flood
And will expand.
But then
This is written by
A guy
Who was supposed to have died
LONG AGO
In one of those death cells!
There’s always hope
Hidden up our sleeves!
October 11, 2009. Watch the full show.
August 20, 2006.
July 18, 2004.
