behold this breath of fresh air

My people ponder and wonder and work
to seek and search
to see where I am
and Damn!...
theyíre out of luck
cuz with my chin up in the air...
Man, I donít care. Man, I donít give a fuck
cuz Iíve lost my culture
to melting pot vultures.
My fierce Filipino blood
has Ďbout turned to mud;
Not a word not one
is spoken in my native tongue.
I am looked on like a leper and severed from the whole.
Am I American? And if so,
I am not a model American.
Call me an arrogant punk
whose values have sunk
past the point of no return.
I'll hear 'em say, ďCheck the side burns
and the knotted hair
and the clothes he dares wear.
Huh! He obviously doesnít care.Ē
And I donít! I wonít and I refuse to lose or retreat. I donít flee or forfeit.
Fuck you and your whole crew; I canít take no more of it.
Youíre so swift to sell me out.
Whatís it all about?
God damn! Make me want to shout!
And yes, yes, yes...
God bless.
Take a peek and please look hard
and tell me what about God?
Do you look at His plan
or just take what you can and run.
Shallow, selfish, def , dumb and blind;
your crime is the runniní of lying politics.
Iím so sick of it -
...what all you hypocrites do.
You shouldn't be dismissin' the mission that you're missin'.
It's the lesson you ought to listen to.
And now you'll ask me, "What is it? Who is it and What is next?
And I ask you, "Am I the man whose clan is... Generation X? -
...these doom destined derelicts.
Are there no fans, no followiní, no admiriní
of these products of the environment?
No... weíre lone rangers.
Weíre strangers and an endangered breed.
Lost and nowhere in sight.
Lounginí in laxness, right?
Living in limbo. Listeniní to the wind blow outside my window and when I get up to see whatís up,
What do I look at? What do I see? Nothiní but my reflection staring right back at me.
I gaze into my eyes and My, my, my.
I said I stare into my eyes and say My, my, my.
Just look into my eyes and then stop....(sigh).
Cuz it makes me wanna cry.
But there ainít no time in
for cries or whinin.
No! I strive! - Iím pushin for the prize.
Iím here to wise up then rise up.
And whatís scary is whatís contrary to popular belief.
And itíll be no relief for you to know that Iím no lazy onlooker waitiní on some delivery;
Iím not a reader but the writer of the book yer liviní see.
Iím new and improved, grooviní to move, fierce and Iím fueled, fueliní to duel,
I am demanding new rules,
I am ready and able; There ainít a shackle that can stable me -
let alone a word that label me, man.
You wanna know what I am?
Do you really wanna know!?.. just how far Iím takiní?
And what my plans are? No fakiní.

I am the real, the real, the real.
I am the storming of the Bastille.
I am the newest scare.
I am Tiananmen Square.
I am the psychedelic solution.
I am the Russian Revolution.
I just am... God dammit about to jam it as far as we can go.
What do you know!...
What do you say? Hey... Ho!
I keep it moviní and donít stop, no!
So isnít this a nation whose foundation is liberation and doesnít that mean independence?
And didn't it make sense that a single soul in some big, brave breath
should say, ďGive liberty or give me death?Ē
Well I say that starting today...
Where thereís a will, thereís a way.
And yes we will make way
for Freedom and her funky children
with a brand new day
to lead Ďem; a new niche to be filled in but until then -
Brothers and Sisters, Take care and beware.
All stagnants, y'all stay clear.
Cuz there is something happening
Behold This Breath of Fresh Air

"behold this breath of fresh air"
Rec. 5/16/97 in front of free fred hampton jr. rally on market and powell, sf...1700.

back to players page back to menu forward.a.poem