First History Taught, Changels Are Angels

First history taught language,
and then it taught philosophy,
which sprouted into physics,
cosmology and chemistry,
and these were good for dentistry,
for architects and sophistry,
but held up with the heretic race,
who held math up in the one God's place.

So history taught inquisition trials,
and showed the world that face,
while chemistry used multiple phials,
to try to divvy up the place,
but language through philosophy,
grew crowds upon the place,
where remember November,
when the fifth ran agendas,
to bomb a master chase.

And history taught that one word's used,
for the faces of an out-of-favor ace,
it may change from junkie to jew
to folks from outer or inner space,
imaginary or real as tar roofed neighbor,
that enemy is out there,
it's real, or imaginary but voted on, pretended on,
your home and your body are theirs,
but for the small place that they place you,
you'd not roam free or safe,
if these arrests weren't dressed to impress you.

If you believe this you're prince to filth,
for what you fear is fear itself,
and you let life
stop the truth
from how I found some, just by simple sooth:
do leaders I know follow
a Golden Rule,
seen currently more in the mule,
that it's not a permanent occupation,
and not far from original Declaration,
that the law is sacred and since she's blind,
we have to surround her, not just from behind,
and give her to Guantanamo lightly,
keeping some for our desperate dying blameless,
to rectify history's war madness with reckless shamelessness,
to try to support what we're all getting behind,
what gives when we bend together in time,
but anger consumes and informs our open eyes,
to gaze righteous steadfast nutritious dissent, debate,
and dare I say the very Enlightenment that The Greatest
Union Of States, located through the hardest education of history,
in this place that one place once called another place, this place,
America. A dream not of the past, but a realization in the making,
that I define through my voice, my community,
and heck, even the internet, like Obama started doing,
like Dean the baptist before him, just to seek the strength,
of people with small voices, in a world ruled by banks,
and glide we now on this moment that sounds like change,
only to discover there is no such magic moment,
but what Toni Morrison could describe,
that change is a Changel perched on your shoulder,
with something of a chirp to a constant squeak,
that says many disorderly things as you live,
like "use your own bags to go shopping in,
and what all other conveniences that you can't rescind,
when doing yourself these things is fair draught,
that life is extended by a balance of drudgery and posh."
and as a result, you plant more in your yard,
since organic veggies fetch dollars abroad,
and instead of square footage which is just more to clean,
you invest in the solar to take hot showers for free,
and where leaves go formerly to the dump,
you'll turn them to dirt to grow more and more,

And at last we arrive at a place we'll all be,
when the money for everyone is no emergency,
and still capital does and property strives,
called wallet to some though lighter on the 'I's,
collectively balanced for those chief basic needs,
so no pride swelling chest of America's glory,
need be hungry in a land rich as never before,
with euphoria here, but sickness breeds near,
so we just poke a few fatty's and say,
enough with your Ponzu, take a break from your scheme,
we'll get this ship going, once the rich are redeemed,
they've won the paddy, the whole daddy wagon,
we'd like to make crumpets to cross all their tees too,
but flour in masses was just hard to come by,
since futures were bought up before they were thought of,
and only for five percent more was any of us prepared,
but the sons and daughters are suddenly profit impaired,
and even the bright minds are doldrums of hoopla,
so no one even speaks of the violence of the flag pole,
but I heard a bird thinker with experience aplenty,
who took steps to put law back on track with the law.

I didn't do nuthin' but listen some more,
to the Changel that was chirping on the shoulder before,
I did the hard things, some
that wouldn't even occur to you to do,
and so many things that my neighbors
knew to do. And I listened,
maybe for the first time.

And just like you, all my fear was upon it,
at once I saw how hard any ideal-lined road is,
and I listened much more than I spoke,
but spoke without heed of two steps away,
just listening to the change that was leading this way.