The Liberty of the People

(Possibly an overly pompous title, but this is an attempt to keep a sense of balance in regard to the recent concerns about security.)

Suspended together in our crowded house

we scuff and scuttle our complex days;

fighting and trying, blind mice in the labyrinth;

one life-lit globe, twisting and blinking,

in a vast and awesome chasm of silence.

No wonder the fear, the baths of suspicion,

the wide-open eyes in the small hours of morning;

no wonder the sidelong glances at neighbours,

waves of pale terror in the stone caves of night.

And still the subtle vermin skulk among us

religion-cloaking their own mental torments;

still, like viruses in the guts and blood,

the lunatic crusaders drum in the darkness

marching to hell with a flurry of trumpets.

No more sense than to condemn the unheard

regardless of actions planned or received;

no more reason than to murder by race

regardless of innocence, age or belief.

And so, we could duly all put on uniforms;

paint ourselves purple and look out for the cuckoos;

so we could take all traces of identity,

list them and file them, field days for squirelling,

the criminals hovering like wasps to the jamjar.

A life on conveyor belts, approved of and moving,

all in a club with just us as members;

a life in a goldfish bowl, counted and classified,

naked as babes in a dictator’s daydream.

What we most struggle for, what we’re defending

is about integrity in the liberty of the people;

What we most strive against, what we’re opposing,

is reducing us humans to the ants in the anthill

scuffling and scuttling like blind automatons.

Those who would have us formed to their orders,

all stitched up in the tapestry masterplan

are only defeated when tomorrow’s arriving

and we are still breathing the fresh air of freedom.