Believe in Freedom…
Khaki street fighter battling an independent rubber bullet-
an eye of hope that would lead to Revolution.
Repression injured the protests
dominated men with religious agendas.
Abandoned society.
It seems like we died too young and not too independent.
Dreamed of making connections with something to do with culture.
Opened and started Revolutions.
Change. Conflict.
When you say somebody faded…exhausted now
from Freedom and justice running in circles.
The enemy may turn against our crumbling buildings and
I walk.
I remember.
I pause.
I admire hidden signs announcing that this building is
About devout characters.
The way.
My way between crawling and selling my soul
choked pedestrians
This is the contradiction-severe-profane.
A singer.
A carouser.
The streets grow holy from sex during daylight,
The Revolution still on display.
Former walls of cinderblocks pushed apart.
A broken door that will not shut.
Machine gun in the street.
Metal monsters of debris.
And the power button beneath the calm.
The people saying: “Cover the walls”
And I begin to imitate them.
High and soft from evolved streets.
I often feel more scattered.
I’m invited to conversations with preconceived notions.
Yeah…a little bit crazy…but
This is the Revolution releasing the poor.



About tanyas13sonnets

poet and dreamer
This entry was posted in Poetry/Prose. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Revolution

  1. Reblogged this on Tanya's 13 Sonnets and commented:

    I wrote this in 2013 …. seems a little more appropriate now. Moving it back up in the line.

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