Politics Within Tent

in tents2
Now is the winter of our discount tents
Where people regroup from their TV sets
And start to set out the new news agenda
There are polythene estates appearing all over the place
Camped out
New fields of possibilities
We meld
And become one body
Soldered by tent pegs of love and solidarity
Im Sparticus!
No, Im sparticus!
 
Slogans
Detonate like shock waves
Inside my brain as I stand here gazing at
Neo-classical pillars
Which start to get plastered with our collective answers to this
Cardiac arresting capital city
They read
Nature is the only superpower
Your heart is a weapon the size of a fist
Make occupation your occupation
And on and on
Fierce discussions erupt on street corners
It’s like eighteenth century France all over again
The pendulum is beginning to swing
We’re at the point of zero gravity between more of the same
And
 
A Mexican wave that won’t sit back down
Now a pandemic of tented towns
Dome tent cities pop up like frogspawn
Mini tax havens for the super poor
Prime real estate for insurrection
Emergency housing for the desperate and indignant
Im Sparticus!
No, Im sparticus!
A clinic to the trench foot of why fucking bother?
Hacking off the blue limbs of who gives a shit?
And feeding every bit of this shit that we’re given
Into a giant composting system
There’s a verdant pulsating energy shooting
Through the cracks of a shattering system
Seeds of change in germination
Here at ground zero indignation solidified
A population galvanised
The ninety nine personified
We’ve come to talk about what’s going down
Camped out
New fields of possibilities
We meld
And become one body
Soldered by tent pegs of love and solidarity
Im Sparticus!
No, Im sparticus!
Silhouetted by queues of mesmerised traffic
There are pavement fanatics
Suited sympathetic
Ecclesiastical renegades
Sandals and trainers
Ecumenical, trans-generational
Amateur, professional, dermatologically spectral
Flash mobs of tourist feast on flaky 99ers
There are armies of clowns and militant mothers
There are discarded bubble gum hit and run mutters
Of chewed up and spat out Evening Standards
From sickly, acidic goblin bankers
Gripped by a shivering profit psychosis
This uniformed, suited black-block marches
Through rat race alleyways of steely glass palaces
This zombie system tears at our walls
So we take to our bubble pod tents and we spawn the
Unwanted kids of Thatcher’s sick fantasies we
Climb the scaffolded limbs of their hierarchies we
See them running up stairs with their bounty we
Come to tear the plastic from their faces we
Come to tear the botox from their faces we
Come to tear at cosmetic surgery
Subsidy to a hideous dying kleptocracy
Paid for by a people now pregnant with change
Im Sparticus!
No, Im sparticus!
 
We are nail bombs of love and rag tag humanity
Antibody to an exponential cancer of money
Hacking at this tumour before it dies naturally
Because only another world is possible
We are purging ourselves of parasites
With thriving communities of radical campsites
We want to push the banks to the brink of extinction
Armed with information, and critical discussion
And spreading
Like the advancing Sahara
Baring tent poles and a sense of humour
We stay
When tents lend percussion to the thrashing rain
You’ll have to drag us from the last blade of grass, we remain
Singing
At the doorsteps of salvation
For whom does your bell toll St Pauls,
For us, or for them?
Dont follow false profits, usury is sin
Dont follow false profits, usury is sin
So the meek are inheriting the earth before it dies
If Jesus was alive he would say
Occupy


Pete Bearder 

“The important people are the countless unknowns who
create the basis from which the great moments of history
arise.”  [Howard Zinn]
——————-
Pic: Claire Palmer
.
.
.

This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *