I actually wrote a (reasonably short) new poem this morning, which was partially inspired by the so-called “Arab Spring”, and what it’s become.
Perhaps folks might appreciate it.
The Problem with Revolution - ©2013 by Trevor Patrick
Every revolution,
Will start out thus:
With wondrous ideas,
And a cause, which is just.
The popular promise,
And hopes that won’t dim,
And the evangelical zeal,
‘Til cold reality sets in.
For what have you lost,
When the old order is swept away?
And what have you gained,
On the edge of the blade?
Tyrants and patriots alike,
And youth nipped in the bud,
All water the Tree of Liberty,
With their freely-shed blood.
Hence, the problem with revolutions,
Though they stir deep in our souls,
Is that without fail,
They spin out of control.
And justified retribution,
Against corrupt government and state,
Invariably becomes a brutish spectacle,
Of torture, murder and rape.
Predators with agendas,
Swoop in for the kill,
And all the cowardly scavengers,
Will eat more than their fill.
And what’s removed by the revolution,
Is replaced with a curse,
Of a brand-old order,
That’s invariably worse.
Thus, the problem with revolution,
In nearly every time and place,
Is that they revolve all the way back around,
And smack you in the face.
Up through the gut, out the mouth and and splattered on whatever seems useful enough.