Pretty Disturbed

 

 

Looking for answers

To my many questions:

Questions mounting

But no satisfaction.

 

Problem after problem

Knocking previous out of mind,

Before the prior can be solved

The next comes on line.

 

Little or no help

Well, no more than talk

And even at the explanations

I can no more than balk.

 

A whole lot of pretense

And much mockery

And I am getting the impression

It is aimed at me.

 

Leaders not leading

Both in parliament and church

And mostly the vulnerable

Being left in the lurch.

 

The killing has died down

Hope I’m not speaking too fast

For the last time I thought so

Another came to pass.

 

Promises by many

But few are being fulfilled

And what they are to correct

Are with us still.

 

In fact, getting even worse

Day in and day out,

Obvious to all them

That dare to drive about.

 

Can’t drive on the left of the road

Only on what’s left of the road

And when I saw this today

I thought, that’s quite a load.

 

And it is getting heavier

Almost too heavy to bear

And those who made the promises

Don’t appear to care.

 

Using talk as a cure for all

With a promise to do better

But with no timeline in view

And things getting blacker.

 

“Oh, we’ll put thing in place

So it doesn’t happen again!”

That’s the nature of the apology

To stop the ongoing pain.

 

“Oh, we do understand

Just what you are going through!”

But to tell you the truth

They don’t have a clue.

 

They are on a different page

From the one we are on

And they will be set for life:

Almost every one!

 

 

An election was called

After three-and-one half years

Gratuity and pension guaranteed

Tell me, who cares?

 

No guard to guard the guards

Just like in the past

And integrity legislation

Still to be passed.

 

Officials having oversight

Guilty of oversight

But maybe chose to overlook

Figuring this was right.

 

A new Identification Card

Was finally rolled out

But given its cost and challenges

We are still left in doubt.

 

A Call-in Programme

That has become a soapbox

And a moderator issuing an ultimatum

For a caller to be stopped.

 

“Another caller please!”

Does this sound familiar?

Mr. Producer, if you are reading this,

Don’t call me a liar.

 

School meals frequently late

And nothing much is said,

Ordinarily for such,

The riot act would be read.

 

 

Breaches of the law

But this is no problem,

Compared to the last Government

This is really nothing.

 

Months now as a Republic

But still awaiting a constitution

And international connections

Smacking of prostitution.

 

On this I will say no more

But you should understand,

That is, of course,

If you are not ultra-partisan.

 

The church is deafeningly silent;

Maybe, they are partisan too

But I thought they would speak out,

Maybe you did too.

 

Who is on the Lord’s side

Appears to be either “B” or “D”,

Thus, dividing the church

And this should not be.

 

Morality is on the decline

And I dare say, rapidly so,

And when there is not much sand

Even an ostrich knows.

  

We have become a Republic

But with a welfarism bent,

Of course, this was because of COVID

That such money was spent.

 

Impoverish and empower

Not much difference, is there?

Surely in the minds of some persons

That is how they appear.

 

A fish every single day

And but little else

Is better than catching no fish

And prospective wealth.

 

A struggling middle class

Relegated to the lower,

And a booming upper class

That climbs even higher.

 

A certain utility-company

Granted an interim raise

With the raise debate in session

And its patrons in a daze.

 

“But they only received half,

That is, of what they requested.”

And I feel, not only violated

But also molested.

 

 

Food prices to be brought down

But yet they went up

And a cap on petrol taxes

Did not amount up to much.

 

We are among the top countries

And here is the proof:

Gas prices and the cost of living

Has gone through the roof.

 

A travelling Prime Minister

That is welcomed everywhere,

Internationally she is seen

As the P.M. that cares.

 

Mia Amor Mottley

Or Auntie Mia to some,

Who is another P.M. like her?

I tell you, there is none.

 

Look, let’s play it as we go

Surely appears to be the plan

And I dare say if it were the Internet

This would be spam.

 

An affiliation with the IMF

And with personnel once ridiculed

But let it be known I wised up;

I’m no longer a fool.

 

The many initiatives

That were started and stop,

The transient bandwagons

Upon which so many hopped.

 

The widespread disillusionment

That came as a result

But yet they follow blindly

As though following a cult.

 

A tinkering with this

And a tinkering with that

Promises to be the Constitution:

Sounds like a trap.

 

All kinds of reform

To make us less informed

And no doubt at the end of the day

This will be the norm.

 

I started out pretty disturbed

But now I am more than this,

Actually, I am very disturbed

Give this lengthy list.

 

Ah, a dismal picture,

I hear you say

But unless we wise up

It will be a darker day.

 

Stewart Russell © October 14, 2022