Motion Sickness
My people love marching!
Attending rain dancing parades,
doing a bunch of fire-breathing talking
Little drummer boys and girls
playing foot soldier pretend grown up
Just defending the truth,
those marionette walkers will yell at you
in designer protest fashion
Motion activate the social activism inert solution
They’re the latest vocal pawns
futilely moving on
the ancient chessboard Game of Thrones
Signs of a flawed time,
silent oppression is on a rewind
Pick up a cute slogan —
Be an outdated part
of the next mobile generation Facebook revolution
My people love to do a lot of lip walking
That Wheel of Misfortune standstill discourse
is always spinning in circles
Chain gang rebels moving with crowd courage
from Harlem to Fruitvale
Still Middle Passage slaves in slow motion,
making oar rows of agitated nothing
Stirred up waves of invective orals
will give them foot-in-the-mouth trouble
Sidestepping the self-pride abuse issue,
this free speech exercise
marching tempo just got doubled
Getting a good pace, cardio aerobic workout,
screaming their lung passions loud
to the gathering storm clouds
Bellyaching sea sickness they carelessly flout,
with waves of foot shuffling fury
Glory be ... glory be
Oh how my people love marching!
They simply adore baton tongue high-stepping
to the newest injustice tune
Hand over their heart,
idle thought moving float gawk partners,
marching to the Italian band
that’s been dirge playing
since Common Error Crucifixion time
Marionette zombie walkers
doing the Texas two-step secession style talking
Mardi Gras growling
down Pennsylvania Avenue
Join the stone soul picnic Rose Garden party;
drink the dry whine,
give a cheesy, moving toast to an uncivil era
Applaud your feeble fetal foot up-and-down effort,
clenched hands linked together
Marching on to a vacuous victory
The marionette marchers always wanna believe
the empty Herod promises,
that the dark past is funeral moving
to a brighter future
A charade parade of trotting lies
has again got my people being fooled old-school
Palpable fear emotions being pulled
by guillotine patriotic heartstrings
My people love being lied to
My people love eating the sugary liberty donuts,
empty hole patsy pamphlets passed out
by bent-knee provocateurs of half-baked old news
My people love the motion sickness
lulling them to sleep
Failed repetitious movement closes the teary eyes
of those rocking-the-boat babies
Resting their weary legs of head-scratching hope
on a 400-year-old rock bed of soft maybes
My people love eating the phantom American Dream cherry pie,
and getting insincere, cheerful patronizing pits spit in their eye
They love line stepping to the flag music ...
an aching beat of hard gravel road rage reasons given as to why
we're still delta taser blues Dixie suffering
My people loyally love
being so discourteously shoe duped
Oh how they puppet love
royally marching in an endless loop!
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018
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