the stone the builder refused

by S Joseph Gordon on Wednesday, 06 October 2010 at 23:36

The time when strangers
Enter our village
And give us curry goat
and feed our children guns
To get us and others to vote for them
So that they can be our political leaders
And tell us what to do and what not to do,
is long gone.



The crocodile
Climbed down from our motto
Granted arms to the people

And slept with their daughters


Humming birds tweeted in pretty tones,
begging the croc to come home.



He returned,
But his offspring
remained

Began their own army
Designed to attack
The very foundation of every institution

The corner stones are full of chicken blood and rum.

Let us begin
By asking our mediums
Behind their cameras
What are they shooting
Why is the preferred story
One of pain, hurt, betrayal


Why do so many mothers
Spend their lives unnoticed
Till their sons die?
Why are they allowed on camera to mourn



For tonights newcast
I want to hear dead prez singing happiness in the background
And I want to see slow motion shots of flowers
Dancing… hips swaying
to voice overs from the birds

Cutaway to a stream in the blue mountains
Countless inner city youths have never breathed that air.

I want there to be more than just a ray of hope
I want a bath of sunshine
To slam a tsunami into every insecure zinc home



We don’t want to hear the statistics of crime and violence
We want to hear the headcount of the good-hearted
We want an approximation of good deeds done per year

A tabulation of angels,
We want to remember we are all acceptable in the highest court.

Don’t tell us about reduction. Tell us of increase
not abuse or the albatross of crime

Don’t tell us we are among the top five most murderous
Don’t remind our weak and burdened system
our poor politic gelled to condemn,
if it had its way, our nation
To a state of perennial violence

this is it.
through loving to see our brothers shine
No apologies
No judge-ment
Nothing
No excuses

Together we complain that the younger generation is worse than our own.

Shall we now conjoin
as many groups who go before?

Having Always pondered our purpose…
On a whim…

Will we pretend we are ready?
Lending unsteady commitment to this delicate revolution?
Or will we shed our issues at the door.
Will we choose this as a place to stand
A circle of integrity
A fertile space to manifest the flowers you truly are?



We’re here to clean the room
push nothing beneath the bed.
Too many things already under the bed.



As a matter of fact.
Tonight, we move the bed.
Peruse, re-use and discard

If anything lies beneath
Which does not make us stronger

No need for us to hold on any longer…



Tonight the banner is raised
The flag declares itself

Empowered by the Youth
Wielders of the art
Welding swollen hearts to the mission.



To Educate, Expose and Empower
the generations
sealing all cracks
in the ship
with unconditional love.