32 Bar Blues: A Spoken Word Poem

32 Bar Blues: A Spoken Word Poem In the shadow of the neon’s dusty glow, Oh, the blues, got me cryin’/echoes of Otis Span whisper, “Why?” Champion Jack Dupree, a voice so true, I’m lost in the Bad Luck blues/ In a world of broken souls, where the road to nowhere stretches on, I found you, baby, like a light in the dark, the blues never dies, it lingers, and it holds you tight/ the weeps and wails, on the south side of a town that’s seen its fails, Slim Harpo in the corner, feeling down and out, the county blues sing a song of doubt/ From the river delta, a treasure unfolds, Folk Cotton Blues, stories untold/ Lightnin’ Hopkins, electric and fast, In the warmth of the back porch, shadows are cast/ Sun House, the father of Folk’s embrace, his lonesome roads live no trace/ blues before sunrise when my baby says I don’t want you any no more/ man, I’m out the door/ Stormy Monday blues, heavy on the Mississippi nation, Tuesday is just as bad, Wednesday just as worse/ man, the week is losing control fast/ Jimmy Witherspoon croons, “Take a chance!” Shake your hip, girl, let the blues make you dance, but baby, I’ll miss you, when the work gang calls/ As Howlin’ Wolf’s spirit through the night sprawls, Back Country Blues, a lineage so strong, in every heartache, a back breakin' song/ In the rhythm of the blues, our souls collide/ let the blues chords carry us, let the rhythm guide us not to a world of sorrow, but to so much joy in our blues pride, from the ashes of a blues life we'll rise and shine, with the 32 bar blues/ I hope you won’t turn me from your door when I have all this blue’s pain of mine / so dig this, the blues are nothin’ but a good man feelin’ mighty bad/