Excerpt from Poet’s Blues

An unpublished collection of poems

by Dr. Glenda Bates

#poetsblues

Wage Slave

I feel so trapped

So constrained

So brainwashed

So afraid

We Can’t Breathe

It’s hard to breathe deep

When there’s smoke all around

The wild fires are burning our towns to the ground

 

It’s hard to hold back

When there’s so much at stake

Trying to create what makes us all great

 

Our dignity, freedom, unity, and expression

Bring us together in resonant fashion

 

Fighting Nazis and MAGAs is not up for discussion

We must conquer these racists who make hate their passion

 

Xenophobes, racists, sexists, and classists

All live among us

And within us, in our own cultural bias

Delivered to us through messaging since time immortal

 

We

must

fight

back

 

The climate is changing and so are we

The ocean is rising and so are we

The season is changing and so are we

The world keeps on turning

And so

Are we

 

Rise up

Stand together

They can’t fool all of us all of the time

Keep each other informed

And warm

 

Be love

Debt Death

I can feel the weight of debt crushing my soul.

I tell myself it doesn’t matter, it’s only imaginary,

This thing we call money

It won’t clothe me

It won’t feed me

And yet, I can’t do any of those things without it.

Why must we chase these green dreams?

We have enough food

To feed the world

But not enough money to make it so.

There’s plenty for each person to prosper

Yet we save, and hoard

Refusing to share

To “protect our own”

We waste and starve our neighbor.

Poet’s Duty
Papa McKenna says the poets have failed us.

Failed to articulate a change,

a path,

an idea to grasp,

to unify us

as the times before.

 

But deep down, we know it’s different this time

We can’t pretend it’s all the same

Continue with this little game

 

We’re too aware of our interdependence and connectivity

At this point

To settle for a naïve solution.

We’ve grow

But have we grown enough?

Are we there yet?

 

Can we make a change, turn it around,

Save face

Or is it

Too late

 

Have we killed our home?

We cannot even imagine how wonderful our society would     

be without war

Without violence

And greed

 

A thriving  sustenance

For all to feed

 

Our imprinted psyches only know

War

It is the organizing force of our society

Drawing boundaries and “protecting” them with murder

How can we imagine something different?

Can our hearts know more?

Don’t let us waste this momentum

Let’s put the pedal to the floor

 

 

Send me a Message

© 2023 Glenda Bates Music

www.glendabates.com

www.jazzboe.com

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