A Mother's Son

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

 

 

A Mother’s Son

 

They pretend there are no casualties

They tell their people not to mourn

We are welcomed there as heroes

Our enemies are scorned

 

But a mother knows a deeper truth

The moment her child is no more

Thousands of needless tragedies

From a pointless brutal war

 

Where oh where is my child?

Where is my darling boy?

Now begins the endless sorrow

The end of all our joy

 

Tell us the truth Mister Putin

Tell us the whys and wherefores

The reasons behind the madness

Of your dirty little war

 

And where oh where is my lovely child?

Where is my darling boy?

Now begins the endless sorrow

The end of all our joy

 

The Great Healer

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

The Great Healer

 

Two hundred years of toxic waste

Pumped into our atmosphere

It is more than we can stomach

But less than what we fear

Destruction so unthinkable

It almost seems unreal

The wounds that we inflict

The earth will one day heal

 

We may call it an act of god

Or the turning of the wheel

It is a fact of life on earth:

Mother nature heals

 

Our bodies are as the earth

Each ache and pain we feel

Will guide us to the remedies

And allow ourselves to heal

 

You may call it an act of god

Or the turning of the wheel

It is a fact of life on earth:

Mother nature heals

 

Nature is the healer

Of all things great and small

From the forest to the butterfly

Nature soothes it all

It has no moral compass

There is no wrong or right

When something goes awry

It shines a healing light

 

We may call it an act of god

Or the turning of the wheel

It is a fact of life on earth:

Mother nature heals

 

Putin's Mistress

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL JUSTICE (UKRAINE)

 

Putin’s Mistress

 

Alina is young and beautiful

She is literally half his age

Taking away her money

Would trigger Putin’s rage

But consider the alternative

He hides his wealth with her

We sanction all the oligarchs

With the hope it will deter

Yet we fear to punish Alina

For the trouble it would stir

 

To hell with Putin’s mistress

To hell with consequence

Take a look at those in Mariupol

Your patience will be spent

Let her swear to cut all ties

With the madman of the North

What was his becomes hers

As she sets a fresh new course

 

He will not see his children

He’ll never see his love

It’s the price that he must pay

For spilling innocent blood

 

The Liberation of Mariupol

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

 

The Liberation of Mariupol

 

Piles and piles of rubble

Where neighborhoods used to be

Where workers used to work

Where parents raised families

 

The men tended their business

The women went their ways

Now there is but wasteland

Where the children used to play

 

Vladimir Putin liberated Mariupol

By exterminating the people

By crushing their spirits

By destroying their noble dreams

A liberation in smoke and dust

A liberation in missiles and bombs

A liberation in cold blood

 

The sound of liberation is the cry of death

The taste of liberation is a mother’s tears

The smell of liberation is burning flesh

The symbol of liberation is a mass grave

 

All hail the great liberator!

Who will he liberate next?

Will he liberate his own people?

Will he liberate his family?

Will he liberate himself?

 

Tam of Hong Kong

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WORLD DEMOCRACY

 

Tam of Hong Kong

 

We sing of Tam Tak-chi

We mourn the death of democracy

Imprisoned for speaking her mind

and opposing Chinese autocracy

 

We sing of freedom and pride

We sing the song of Tam

We will march by her side

Though they may not give a damn

 

They will lock her behind bars

They will silence every voice

Yet we will sing wide and far

Until we are given a choice

 

Tell everyone you know and see

That sings the song of liberty

Oppression is the legacy

Of China’s president Xi

 

Tempting Armageddon

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

Tempting Armageddon

 

The madman of Moscow

Has traveled over the bend

Threatening the entire planet

With nuclear Armageddon

 

The madman does not care

How many people he kills

He’ll send his weapons anywhere

Just to give himself a thrill

 

He doesn’t seem to understand

That he’s not above the fray

The poison spread across the land

Will return in kind some day

 

The blow that strikes another

Will strike the killing hand

And death will be his mother

The skull will be his brand

 

The madman of Moscow

Will surely meet his end

For what you reap you sow

On that you can depend