Everybody wants to be an activist.
But once their backs are against the wall,
their clenched fists become open palms.
Where’s the REVOLUTION?

Public space versus private institutions.

I see students
taking part in the marches.
But the saddest part is
when they have a midterm the next day,
the revolution suddenly takes a back seat.

To my knowledge, change is not as easily given as a left turn signal on a green light.
Sometimes, we must run through the red lights to get pulled over,
just so we could talk to the face of law.
Sometimes, we must break through the dividers of what divides us
go against those who follow the other direction just to get their attention.
Everybody please turn your headlights on.

This is not a poem encouraging reckless driving...
I still say “Put your seatbelts on” because this is going to be one hell of a bumpy ride.

Everybody wants to be an activist, right?
Everybody wants to fight for a cause.
Everybody wants to fight for their God.
Everybody wants to get involved.

Come one, come all!

Join the revolution!

But know what you’re fighting for.
Know what cause
Know which God

Know when you get involved, like a relationship,
somebody eventually is going to get hurt.

This is not for paper hearts, but for crumpled dreams
The lost speeches of Martin Luther King.
Fahrenheit 9/11 was only a scratch on the surface, Immortal Technique.

Listen

but READ.

We must document histories
instead of watching only documentaries.
Know your perspective.
Know when you say “Fuck you!”
you say it with or with no protection.
Know your responsibility.
Everybody wants to be an activist. It’s killing me.
If you want to be an activist, then prove to me.
If not to me,
then to he and she.
If not to he and she,
then to history.
If not to history,
then to your own self
MUTHAFUCKA.

To be an activist
know what action is
with an active fist
as classic is
with jabs and kicks.
To be an activist
is to be more than just imaginative.

Tell me, are YOU an activist?