Find yerself

You hear people say, they seek inner calm.
To find the way, they grease a palm.
Tarot card dealers and I-Ching tossers,
Crystal-eyed gazers and mystic bosses.

Sentient beings in search of fate,
Are really fleeing a human trait.
Inner serenity is half the shout,
We lose our sanity without the lout.

The point is anger, ignore the sermon,
Rage against corporates and other vermin.
You can seek peace, there is no doubt,
Lambs are fleeced, so find your lout.

Visit a retreat, chant all day long,
Or play on repeat, your club song.
A mantra for tribe, life's black and white;
You're on our side, or after a fight.

Life is complete with your inner lout,
It creates a retreat, where there is no doubt.
The game is complete, each knows their job
Is helping defeat the other mob.

Opponents represent all that you fear,
By being present, you make it clear,
You won't be pushed, you'll have a go,
Even at their ground, you abuse so-and-sos.

Umpires we hate, in a didactic way,
They represent the state, with arbitary say.
Couldn't play without 'em, would if we could
Trust ourselves to play as we should.

There'd be a brawl of sharmans and sages,
To break down walls that divided for ages.
If we fight for a game, I reckon there's hope,
There's light in shame and a chance for a joke.

Nothing really matters, pride, faith or creed,
Humanity's in tatters over useless greed.
Stick to yer team, stand by yer mates,
It's as simple as it seems and never too late.

That cross you bear, that curse you cast,
I'll tell you for free, it won't be the last.
Get over the anguish, get over the doubt,
Learn to distinguish your inner lout.

Craig Nelson 2009