Like Voltaire in a Frenzy 


17

Like Voltaire in a Frenzy

I am in exile from prosperity
I study the downtrodden
Minorities, elderly, disabled, the poor
I’ve become one of them to

Realize what it means to be human
Perfectly happy in struggle and stress
I wonder why this is, for poetry
And prayer, and meditation

It’s the gardening of the spirit
In this culture of materialism
Sometimes to live you need friends
Partners, lovers, inspiration

Cajoling life from festivity
Scolding life from monotony
Screaming life from anonymous cities
Cleverly hoping to civilize

I am in exile from justice
I face discrimination, I would know what it means!
I eat poisonous GMO food
I am becoming obese and with diabetes

I hold religion up as an icon of identity
But I believe in the human spirit
In how to overcome adversity
I’ve met my match in this generation

Too poor to be a father, too poor
To know how to be patient like a peasant
I become my own revolution
And find in society a kind of apathy

That the uncomplaining stars understand
But in my lucid song, I do not
I suffering a martyr and I doubt
The world is a kind or good place.

P r a y e r s for Baltimore #BaltimoreRiots #poem #society #Baltimore #inequality


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P r a y e r s for Baltimore

Give me a broom or a shovel
And I’ll walk with you, I don’t live in
Baltimore Maryland, but I’ve seen enough
Black teenagers shot this year, by police

I think Baltimore burns for a reason
It’s a crime Americans hardly demonstrate
Here in Montreal, we’d be on the
Streets every night, if this happened to us

We’re all slaves at one time or another
The white man did a lot of things
But racism has got to stop, in a freakin’
Melting pot, where I hear Spanish more than English

If Baltimore bleeds, I think it’s worth it
Boys in blue do it again and again
White cop shot another black teen
Say again, you mean to tell me again?

You bring in the army and line the streets with soldiers
There’ no restraint in it either way
If you don’t want rioters, clean up your act
Changing your culture, grow some equality

This American dream is a pitch of Wall Street
Fund some education, keep families together
Instead you spend on the military
Baltimore, we don’t need any more martyrs
The state of emergency is pretty clear.

Psalm 6 – The Discriminated


But as for me, Deare Lord
My house is a home for charity
That there is yet room in
My heart, for this raw beaten world

And enemies to befriend
And hope, to give away
As a beggar does something kind
For a little coin, I too pray

In my own kind of prayer
In my own variety of goodness
Like I trust all these beings
Who suffer like Buddhists together

And make up imaginary sin
For a bit of an excuse, to prostrate
Themselves against universal laws
For if we are all guilty of something

Where does our aptitude for judgement
Come from, our inability to forgive
Even the slightest of slights?
Our talent for animosity

Even when the entire world suffers
The same ills, like one village?
What is the need for war
So that a few might have a lot

While most have none and die
Without cause or rights of plenitude?
Why torment minorities, when they
Have less hope of a good life than us?