Fleeced

spoken word poetry

Spoken Word

I can tell that you’re snoozin’ – call me a psychic
But the only rapid movement’s under your eyelids
Not sure if it’s the grade of the chro you’ve been smokin’
You seem to be fading on road – eyes closin’

Wake up to oncoming traffic like I did
Pull the wheel tight – try to realign it
Same thoughts, same memes, caught in the same vices
We need to pull our heads from out of our devices

Instead of staying inside, confined n’ indecisive
Don’t watch, it won’t stop – as they serve the hate
We fuck and eat cake like the great Dionysus
Divisive slices of commercial breaks n’ ISIS

Words on repeat fill the silence like sirens
Words on repeat perpetuate violence
So wake up, wake up now, give em’ hell
In slavery – sheep can’t count on themselves

Sheep –
can’t count on themselves
Sheep without bounce can’t count on themselves

Sheep –
can’t count on themselves
Sheep without bounce can’t count on themselves

Sheep –
can’t count on their bars
Same old sounds got us doubting the craft
Barely awake as we mope on the grass
Scared to escape ‘coz we don’t wanna starve

The food tastes great – we assume it will last
But we’re grazing away and consuming it fast
All we have are our dreams as we’re trapped in a scene
Where the pasture is green but the future is sparse

They’re taking our freedom and making us calm
They spray paint our fleeces to trace who we are
Our race and our class, our face and our cast
Our faith and our status and state of our past

Let’s speak up, be brave, start changing our path
Let’s jump the gate, disappear in the dark
If we take the leap we are bound to excel
In slavery, sheep can’t count on themselves

Sheep –
can’t count on themselves
Sheep without bounce can’t count on themselves

Sheep –
can’t count on themselves
Sheep without bounce can’t count on themselves

 

more by Lucas Howard

photo by Matt Palmer on Unsplash

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Lucas Howard

When I was seven I started copying poems out of a book and telling people they were mine. When I ran out of good ones to copy, I had to start writing my own. I have been performing and organising nights on the UK spoken word scene now for over seven years and am most of the way through writing the first draft of my first novel 'Zedlist', which is serialised on here. As the story is in fetal form, any critiques or suggestions are most welcome.

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