Peter Chapman Poetry

Blues in Tropes

But all this crowded life has been to thee
No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell
Of viols, or the music of the sea
That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.

-- Oscar Wilde, from My Voice

It's never as bad as it seems.

-- eternal wisdom

To the Bone

You got the blues because of you,
You got the blues for what you do.

I got the blues because of me,
I got the blues for all I see.

You got them blues all over you,
Yesir them blues, they know it too.

I got the blues all over me,
Yesir the blues, they know it, too.

Bird on-a stump, possum uppa tree,
Blues the bitty eyes of you, anyone can see.

Told me now to quit that life, it's givin' me a time,
Nickel's worth of fun, for this ol shiny dime,
Got them blues so far down, nothin' can be done,
Make my mine stop hurtin', Lord,
I'm dyin' on the run.

Honey's in the money, honey's in the tree,
Bees not makin' honey, nuthin's buzzin' me,
Long's I keep a doin' what I know so bad,
Be a long time comin', lickin' off the sad.

I need someone 'o thing, t' allegory me,
Make me up some progress, a honest way to see
So like that ol poss, barkin' uppa tree,
Tree'll get so smooth, down to earth I'll be.