This poem was written in December 2009, and the opening lines were inspired by the 1999 Guy Clark song, “Cold Dog Soup,” whose chorus goes: “There ain’t no money in poetry / but that’s what sets the poet free / and I have had all the freedom I can stand.” After that, the poem went in a different direction, exploring how human beings seem to work against our own best interests.
Yes I Know
Since the Earth isn’t free
and neither is poetry,
we tell ourselves:
Yes I know, but I want to.
While the greenery browns
And grey rains fall down,
the living weep:
Yes I know, but I want to.
Since poor men’s pleading
can be handled like weeding,
the rich think:
Yes I know, but I want to.
As young girls will smile
at the boy with the guile,
his mind says:
Yes I know, but I want to.
As the answers to our prayers
dance around in the air,
God’s word is still:
Yes I know, and I want you to.
About ten years ago, I all but quit submitting poems to literary magazines and began sharing a few here. To read previous (Unpublished) #Poem posts, each with its own mini-introduction, click on the title below:
(Unpublished) #Poem: “They Come, Growling”
(Unpublished) #Poem: “Lost Things”
(Unpublished) #Poem: “Taking Root”
(Unpublished) #Poem: “Sabbatical”
(Unpublished) #Poem: “Southern Soil”
(Unpublished) #Poem: [Untitled]
(Unpublished) #Poem: “Reading Kenko”
(Unpublished) #Poem: “Five or Six”
(Unpublished) #Poem: “Curb Market, Saturday Morning”
(Unpublished) #Poem: “The Greatest Unknown
Categories: Alabama, Poetry, The Deep South, Unpublished Works, Writing and Editing
