Routine

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Routine

Same time every morning

Wake up get out of bed

Make coffee take care of business

Read the paper sit down and write

Walk the dog smell the air

Watch television say goodnight

Same thing every day

Every week and every month

Day after night after day

Till the cows come home

Or pigs fly

In times of trouble

Routine protects us from desire

Routine prevents us from thinking

Routine blocks the creative path

And paves the way of caution

Routine creates a façade of normality

That stands in our place

Like crash test dummies

When alas the troubles pass

We will break the chains and scream

From the highest mountain: 

Free at last! Free at Last!

Great God Almighty!

We are free at last!

Helpless

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Helpless

Life does not cooperate with individual will

Life is stubborn and self-directing

It asserts itself without regard for

Schedules of convenience

Life does not care what your

Ambitions or appointments are

It demands that you conform

To its dictates and inclinations

Life is a wayward child that latches

On to you and pulls you where it will

It leaves you helpless and yearning

In desperation and despair

Life does not request your consent

It grabs you by the neck

Pulls you to the naked floor

Compels you to follow without question

You are powerless before her

An infant to a mother

She neither cares nor does not care

She is all there is no other

Triage (The Value of a Life)

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Triage (The Value of a Life)

How much is a life worth?

Do we calculate the value of creativity?

How much is the value of age?

What price do we place on genius? 

How much is philosophy worth? 

The decision of who lives and dies

Comes down to simple equations

But the numbers can never reflect

The true value of a human life

What if Einstein was diabetic? 

What if Mother Teresa was too old?

What if Tesla was jobless?

What if Curie was too cold? 

Shakespeare Mozart Blake the Beats

Would they make the grade? 

Longfellow Wordsworth Sitting Bull Yeats

Would modern medicine come to their aid?

You can place a number on any thing

But its value remains a mystery

Ode to a Balladeer (for John Prine)

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Ode to a Balladeer

He sang the heart of America

From a place in the deepest soul

He understood the working man

A woman left yearning

A child’s world of wonder

An elder in an old folks home

What it’s like to be alone

He put himself inside

A stranger at your door

The deepest wounds of war

A woman at the kitchen sink

Wondering what it’s for

He dug beneath the surface

Tapped deep into the core

He was loved everywhere he went

An angel from Montgomery sent

Never lonely in his later years

Never had to buy a beer

A brother or a friend most dear

A warm smile was always near

At home in every town

With saints or sullen clowns

Now he’s on the other side

Looking back at us with that wry grin

Maybe tipping a glass of gin

Waiting for someone to say

Hello out there

Goodbye

He understood us better than

We understand ourselves

(for John Prine)

Solace

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Solace

At times of hardship

When the weight of the world

Comes down on you with the force

Of eternal woe

Seek solace in the ones you love

Seek comfort in joyful memories

Discover truth in acts of kindness

Find warmth in words you treasure

Hold onto the grace in pleasing melodies

Take heart in familiar passions

Take refuge in the love of family

And welcome the love of friends

We will survive these wretched times

To emerge stronger and more wise

But it will steal so many hours

And it will cost so many lives

Seek solace for the harm will pass

While love kindness and faith will last

Profiteering

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Profiteering

To those who see opportunity in tragedy

How much is a human life worth? 

To those who make money from misfortune

Would you trade your sacred soul

For a seat at the table of avarice? 

To those senators who converted

Secret knowledge of a global pandemic

Into stock market treasure

You have forfeited your right to serve

You have lost your place in civil society

You have lost the love of your fellow travelers

And the good and gracious will of humanity

You have lost the right to count yourself

Among the kind and decent people

Who survive without your help

Flat Earth Society

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Flat Earth Society

The society is pleased to announce

A series of meetings for fifty or more

In spaces that hold seventy-five or less

On the agenda we relate

The appropriate response to the coronavirus

Or whistling Dixie while the ship goes down

We look forward to our planned activities

Bobbing for juicy red apples

Licking peppermint flavored envelopes

Heard it through the grapevine

Blowing out the candles

Sharing the community dip

And many other get-close activities

Fun for the entire family

We close each session as always

With a rousing rendition of

Good Night Irene