The revolution will not be televised, This revolution is live baby! Welcome, to the comedy club, That dares not close any doors, For fear they'll be broken down! Ripped right off all of the hinges! Some clowns, being hard to please! Some clowns, never understand no! Some clowns you do not turn down! Remaining open, twenty-four seven! We aim to please our public anyway! Keep all the mindless zombies, happy! The impossible, merely takes us longer! Never closing, for any stupid holidays! Not even closing for some emergencies! Some acts, could catch you by surprise! Some acts never being, what they seem! Sometimes they are highly entertaining! While, others you may be wise to avoid! Other acts are not for the faint of heart! Other acts you simply take your chances! Where at times righteous riots break out! Where at times many zombies go berserk! Where at times zombies get carried away! When occasionally zombie shit hits a fan! When some clowns fight over stupid crap! When some clowns always look for fights! When bigger clowns fight over everything! When they fight, about who is the biggest! Often unaware of who they're fighting for! Sometimes fighting, over complete bullshit! Sometimes, shooting themselves in the foot! Sometimes, they are in the mood for a fight! Prepared to blame others for their problems; Few ever being taught how to Just Say No! Few ever realizing what it means to be free! That bereft honesty the word is meaningless! Some couldn't care less, whatever the reason, Some just like to fight, for whatever reasons! Many are young and full of piss and vinegar; Foolishly desiring, to always fall on their ass! Some thinking, it makes them all the stronger! Afraid the ground, might get away from them! Afraid to surrender any dirt beneath their feet! Afraid of looking weak rather than just stupid! Afraid of slaying the beasts of their nightmares! Stubbornly refusing, to back down even an inch; Ingloriously unaware, of the approaching floor! Because fact can be stranger, than any fiction! Because reality, is often funnier than fiction! And it twinkles a hell of a lot more as well! Catching any clown still alive by surprise! Making many do a double or triple take, Sometimes with their pants still down, Only to have mama nature spank us! Twinkle, twinkle, All you beautiful stars out there, In your sparkling Wonderland! Falling adorably, upon your ass! Do not expect, your own mother! To clean up after, all your messes! Viva La Revolution Baby! No, radical revolutionary promises! No, conservative State Secrets crap! No swearing you're telling the truth! No swearing it was only an accident! No swearing that you have witnesses! No swearing you'll make some amends! No attempt to simply avoid the subject! No swearing your scout's word of honor! Nor swearing upon a tall stack of Bibles! Nor swearing the dog ate your homework! No swearing it wasn't, as bad as it sounds! No pleas from your friends, backing you up! No swearing upon, your own mother's grave! Nor dramatic sobbing, begging, and pleading! Nor insisting, that it will never happen again! Will ever manage to escape mama's house rules! Will ever avoid mama's remorseless enforcement! And hell hath no fury like Mama Nature scorned! Balance will be restored, whenever harmony is lost! (Gill Scott Heron)
This is, by far, the most elaborate version of this poem I've ever come across. You don't want to know how long it took, because I don't want to know. Many of my poems are a dozen pages long, and I only publish the shortest ones here. Its all just potty humor logic, contextual vagueness, and nonlinear temporal dynamics to me, until it becomes something more of its own accord.
Some of us (old enough to) remember the 1970 performance - Away from the mainstream radio stations (certainly in the UK - at the time. It was very much a case of picking up on "Pirate/Independent" stations, the purchase of vinyl and/or student discussion on the signs of the times - still, some things do change and a lot of what was subverted now is more easily accessible - "Keep the Faith" ('brother') and let "the beat go on"
Gil did for poetry what Robert Johnson did for the blues, and is immortal as far as I'm concerned. He went down to the crossroads, just to flag a ride. I would say James Taylor is the only other artist I can think of who has inspired more salt-of-the-earth art than Gil. Its the metaphors that are important, much like intonation is everything in singing. Perhaps the most famous female singer of the last century was Billy Holiday, who had an extremely limited range by female vocal standards. She used her voice for everything it was worth. I know, because I can do the same, with a lot of practice! And I'm three times her age! You are either that authentic to begin with, or have found your soul.
