Talkover at CNN

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUMP DAZE

The Talkover at CNN

 

The big bully doesn’t have conversations

He runs over you like a bulldozer

Like the bully that he is

And if you dare try to stand up to him

If you dare try to get a word in

He calls you nasty names

He holds you in contempt

And places you beneath his majesty

 

He has his narrative of fantasy

He sticks to his talking points

Everyone who disagrees with him

Everyone who interrupts his flow

His constant flow of sacred words

His golden jewels of wisdom

Is on the take of the elite

Under the influence of haters

Drunk on the manna of media madness

 

He alone can set you free

He alone can end the madness

He alone can restore dignity

He alone can lead the world to peace

He alone can give women want they want

He alone can make America great again

He alone can put people in their place

He alone is the genie of all genies

You know it, I know it

Everybody knows it!

 

The insurrection never happened

January 6 was a walk in the park

America has gone to hell

The Proud Boys are heroes

Stand back and stand by!

He’s got a job to finish:

Ending democracy in America

 

A Dying Art

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

 

A Dying Art

 

I’ve always been attracted

to the dying arts

The arts for which society

no longer has a need

The arts that do not give

(they say) but only take

The arts that are sustained

by the generosity of patrons

The arts that have lost all relevance

in the modern techno world

 

Those who presume to know

The vagabonds of culture

The vultures at the door – but

never on the stage – have proclaimed

the death of the theater since

the time of Moliere

The holders of the poison pen

who have so often tried and failed

in the artform of their choosing have

declared in good time and bad faith

the end of the short story,

the death of the literary novel,

the demise of romantic verse,

the extinction of free-form poetry,

the inevitable decline of the written

word itself in all its transmutations

and yet the arts are still here

 

The theater has survived

a thousand slings and arrows

Poetry has survived the dumbing

down of the spoken word

Literature has thrived by paving

new avenues of expression

 

As Sam Clemens famously said:

Rumors of my demise are

greatly exaggerated

 

The arts in all its varied forms

will live as long as civilization exists

 

Fear (re: Martin Heidegger)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Fear

 

Fear is a state of mind that

Overtakes our conscious reason

Fear is a raw instinct that

Proclaims the arrival of a threat

To be fearful in a dangerous world is wise

To be fearful without cause is foolish

Fear enables our survival

But it can also paralyze

To live in constant fear is hell

To live without fear lacks drive

I am because I fear is twisted

I am because I do not fear is something

Less than human

Fear is a constant in our lives

We live with fear

It accompanies us like a shadow

It exists beneath the surface

Ready to rise and guide us through

The crises of our lives

But fear cannot overtake us

It would destroy us from inside

It would consume the essence of our lives

Acknowledge fear, embrace it

But hold it in its rightful place

 

(re: Heidegger)

 

Migrant Waves

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POEMICS

 

Migrant Waves

 

They are lined up at the border

Ready to cross over

They’ve waited for the day

When the virus would subside

When the hatred would abate

When the gates of human kindness

would open up to let them in

 

They’ve been told to go away

Go back home where they belong

But they have no homes

No lands that welcome them

They have come from a brutal place

A place of murder and oppression

A place where mothers are raped

A place where children are abducted

A place of crime and violence

 

They are waiting for the gates to open

Knowing that they face discrimination

Knowing that many wish to harm them

Knowing they may be sent away

Or discarded like bags of trash

Or held in chain-link prisons

Yet they come to meet their fate

They come in waves of flesh

to remind us they are human

 

Do they not hope?

Do they not dream?

When you cut them,

do they not bleed?

 

Punishment

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

 

Punishment

 

We punish the poor for being poor

We punish the weak for weakness

We punish the world with endless war

With misery and bleakness

 

Let us hope we can make amends

Let us bow our heads and pray

When pressed sweet justice bends

Let us hope it bends our way

 

There are times we turn our backs

For no other path will do

The train has sadly left the tracks

There is nothing left to lose

 

But often we can light a fire

And lead the way through kindness

The way is long, we cannot tire

We cannot yield to blindness