| April 28, 2006 After Ginsberg's America by Brian Anderson, insurgent49 Why don’t we listen to the American Folk Singer? Why do we listen to the Politician on Capital Hill? Why we do chalk it up to the way the world works When we are the ones who voted to make it work? We are the person on the street The child in the stroller The park walker The cash register-er We are the president of America All keeping freedom All keeping justice All keep getting lost in the masses as we decrease representation. America open your eyes. America open my eyes. We are all changing We are all moving The life we once had so many years past Is gone to us now as the numbers begin to expand Russia and the Commie Red Who are they now? We have the policies of our fathers of the 50s Yet I am no longer of the 50s For I am a minority now (as my parents celebrate 25 happy years) I am punished as the minorities fight for equal rights And I gladly take the punishment For our battle cry rings “All men are equal.” I am a voice misplaced The color of skin on my face declares me of white supremacy The penis between my legs declares me of male chauvinist ancestry But I do not follow those who placed footsteps before me I shout for just and love I reach out to the downtrodden I hope to give them a hand America open your eyes. America open my eyes. We are all changing We are all moving New morals arise and old bow out From a stage that no one looks to anymore We declare ourselves just and wise We declare ourselves ahead of the times But do we hear from our brothers upon the streets under newspaper Do we hear from our sisters lining up outside clinics with heads covered Do we hear from mothers banging their heads on invisible ceilings Do we hear from fathers taking paternity leave The battleship has left the old harbor to sail across an ocean To defeat an invisible foe Yet behind our battlelines and battleships arises new foes Who do not hide in hills and dales but in plain sight with a smile on the camera America open your eyes. America open my eyes. We are all changing We are all moving Money declares rank, rank declares power And yet these do not define happiness and they never have So why are fences placed around golf courses and pools Why are children placing themselves above others in schools Where in kindergarten we all learned to share, take naps, paint colorful flowers That aren’t only green and red Where the colors are defined not by the paints but the administration Where minorities are drawn and counted and driven by cheesewagons To lands undiscovered and merciless to strangers Where books that speak of a minor truth are discarded And relegated to the black list which should be But isn’t Non-existent within a public school of free speech Where we no longer pledge allegiance to you, under God or otherwise, Where we quibble over ten rules that aren’t suppose to even Appear within the four walls of a government building For religion, not matter what shape and size, is separate Separate and equal within the eyes of Mother America Separate and delegated to storefront shops and stone temples Equal in the law but not in the numbers or the structure America open your eyes. America open my eyes. We are all changing We are all moving I look to you for answers but if they are false I look to you for guidance but if it is prejudice I will flee to a place where it is yet to be Are there true answers within me? Can I open my eyes to the truth? We must. |
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2005
Insurgent Media. All Rights
Reserved. in-sur-gent (in sur'jent), n. 1. a member of a group which revolts against the policies of its leadership. |
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