Too much is happening in the world;
Swallowed by the wars
the financial collapse
melting polar ice caps
epidemics surging en masse
All the calls to order drown in these tides.
Lost am I, unable to find
solid footing in this turbulence
A home, a job, some peace of mind
The health to pull up those bootstraps
All denied; run and hide from me.
We all struggle, all alone
Needing help that does not come
For who is left upon higher grounds
That will lend a hand to common men
To lift us up again?
Instead, so many up on that steep hill
Spit down their condemnations
‘Why do you play the victim?’
and they wash their hands of us.
Convicted of poverty, mediocrity
Failure, or illness, we deserve to suffer
As we are on the wrong side of the equation
Of those who take advantage
and those who are taken advantage of.
May 19, 2009
I wrote this poem after watching a fairly dreadful and disjointed movie about Bob Dylan. I’ve never read his stuff, or listened to his music, but this poem represents the impression of what I got from the movie about what his work was like. One thing they kept saying was “write about your own times.” He had a unique voice. I actually think there’s more hope in the world these days than not, but I was going for a “statement” kind of feel for the poem.