Vaccination

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: SCIENCE

Vaccination

 

The disease that was once eradicated

Is back like a thundering storm

All because the kids weren’t vaccinated

Their parents went against the norm

 

Measles and mumps were a scourge

That took far too many lives

The numbers have begun to surge

As the spirit of denial thrives

 

There is a price for ignoring science

And that price can be most dear

There’s a price for unknowing defiance

And the due date is drawing near

 

Believe what you want to believe

But spare the next generation

Don’t allow them to be deceived

Be sure they get their vaccinations

 

Seven Ages of Dismal Woe

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

 

Seven Ages of Dismal Woe

(William Blake, The Book of Urizen)

 

How long must we wait for an end to

the seven ages of dismal woe?

 

How long must we wait for an end to war?

How long for an end to hunger and greed?

When does a hundred years of peace begin?

When does the nightmare end?

 

We have endured the age of never-ending war

We have survived the age of endless waste

We have witnessed the age of mass destruction

We have suffered the age of pandemic disease

We have observed the age inequality

We have endured the age of mass poverty

 

How much more can there be?

 

The seven ages of dismal woe

Have chronicled all of human history

Why and how we are still alive

Is the ultimate of mysteries

 

The Chinese Curse

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

The Chinese Curse

 

Covid is a disease

It is not a Chinese curse

The curse is their failure

to come forward with the truth

China, Brazil and Florida all

lied about their covid dead

The Chinese covered up the

origin and spread of the virus

They all covered up the infection

and the death rates

If you don’t test, you don’t diagnose

If you don’t diagnose it doesn’t exist

They practiced a policy of denial

Someday the truth will surface

It is emerging now in China

They failed to contain covid

They cracked down on the people

yet failed to control the spread

Now the crisis is imminent

and the world is intolerant

When you deny the truth

at a cost of countless lives

you sacrifice good faith

You are no longer trusted in

the community of nations

 

We Got Lucky

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

We Got Lucky

 

We pushed hospitals to the breaking point

Exposed the weakness of our senior care

Watched the president create events

of mass infection, insult the medical profession,

contract Covid, survive through extreme

measures and intense care, only to pronounce

himself superman, the great and invincible,

and advise us not to be afraid…

 

Only a million Americans died

 

We got lucky

We got lucky that the covid roulette shuffle

settled on a variation that is virulent but

not particularly lethal

 

We got lucky

We got lucky that medical science kept up

with the process of transmutation

 

We got lucky when we elected a new

president who took the virus seriously

 

We’re still lucky

Because the virus is not done

Because masses of people still

have not be vaccinated

Because even more people have

not been boosted and reboosted

Because winter is coming

and the virus is waiting

 

We got lucky that Covid 19 is not

the Black Plague or the Spanish Flu

 

We got lucky this time

Next time (there will be a next time)

With so many people in denial

With so many people believing

they can wish away a plague

With so many people having learned

the wrong lessons

Next time we may not be lucky

 

After all

Only a million Americans died

 

The Battle Within

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

The Battle Within

 

Like a tightened noose

A battle rages within

One side must lose

The other must win

 

One side attacks

The other retreats

Bruised and battered

Resolved to defeat

 

How long must I suffer

The curse of this spell?

Three days of discomfort

Or a lifetime in hell?

 

The body yearns peace

Among all its parts

The lungs and the liver

The brain and the heart

 

When the battle still rages

Something must give

The invader must leave

For the host to live

 

Covid Attack

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Covid Attack

 

The Covid is mine

It’s under my skin

I moan and I pray

Covid doesn’t win

 

My mind is blurry

My brain is on fire

I wallow in misery

I’m growing so tired

 

I’ve had all my shots

I am grateful for that

I have multiple lives

Like an old alley cat

 

I don’t feel like eating

I don’t feel like much

I’m angry and scattered

And so out of touch

 

All of the things that

Go through my mind

The lingering effects

The troubling kind

 

I dropped my guard

I looked away

A warning to all

It is here to stay

 

Covid Rides Again

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

 

Covid Rides Again

 

The fifth subvariant of the seventh wave

Comes crashing upon our shore

Works its way across the land

Comes a knocking at our door

 

Will we never rid ourselves

Of this deadly viral scourge?

Or will we let it grow and spread

To enact a natural purge?

 

We know we cannot live this way

Forever and a night

This is not a human enemy

That we can curse and fight

 

So it will run its natural course

Stealing more and many lives

As we pretend it is not so

The virus grows and thrives

 

Eighteen Dead

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Eighteen Dead

 

If eighteen died at the hands of

Middle East zealots

They would mark the day

Build a monument and

Hold a three-day vigil

 

If eighteen died at the hands of

A MAGA militia

They would summon

The FBI and put the National

Guard on alert

 

If eighteen died at the hands of

A serial killer

We’d be greeted by national

Media coverage 24-7

Survivor interviews and

Expert speculation

 

If eighteen died by a natural

Disaster the nation would be

In perpetual mourning

 

Eighteen died of covid this month

(in our little corner of the world)

And nobody cared because

Covid does not exist

It ceased to be when the

Cameras turned away

 

Final Tally

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Final Tally

 

It’s not over but the death toll winds down

Soon we will not count the covid dead

Soon the dead will just be dead

And the final tally will be recorded

 

Over a million Americans

North of the Mexican border

More than half over the age of sixty-five

Disproportionate among the poor

Among the black and Latino

Among the native population

 

The tally is tragically low

Multiply by two or three or more

The unrecorded dead will outnumber

The recorded dead by a large margin

 

Yet do not fret for they were old

Do not long mourn for their

Remaining years were short

Do not look back with regret

For they were burdens on their families

Burdens on their friends and loved ones

Burdens on all society

 

We cannot say so now

We cannot say so tomorrow

But the day will come

When we dismiss our sorrow

With the knowledge that the dead

Were mostly old and feeble

They were of less value

That those who survived

In the final tally it is

Survival of the fittest

 

Shanghai Lockdown

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Shanghai Lockdown

 

The virus that came from China

Is living and thriving there still

The question must never be asked:

How many has the virus killed?

 

They claimed a national victory

A source of honor and pride

No virus could ever defeat them

For the party would not abide

 

They have locked down a great city

Whose people now live in fear

They are losing so many loved ones

But they are not allowed to shed tears

 

We cry for the Chinese people

As we mourn all the dead and the ill

We now know we must come together

When confronting a virus that kills

 

So Long Omicron Blues

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

So Long Omicron Blues

 

It ain’t over til it’s over

Said the leprechaun’s son

The great lady hasn’t sung

So the omicron ain’t done

 

I got the omicron blues

Comes in threes and twos

I got those omicron blues

Ain’t nothing we can do

 

We’ve got to carry on

We all know it’s been too long

We’re just ordinary folks

We were never that strong

 

They said give it a year

So we gave it two more

Pretty soon they’ll be saying

Give it three, give it four

 

I got the omicron blues

It comes in threes and fours

I got those omicron blues

We can’t take it anymore

 

We’re not quitters or losers

We’ll give it one more try

But there will come a time

We’ll go on with our lives

 

Woah Canada!

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Woah Canada!

 

We think of you as our weaker

but more sophisticated sibling

Canada: Land of the educated

Land of the enlightened

Land of the peaceful and kind

 

We are shocked to see thousands

gathered on the streets of Ottawa

bearing swastikas and yelling obscenities

urinating and spewing degrading epithets

taking a stand against vaccination

 

We have long considered our northern friends

a kinder gentler more civilized breed

Have we infected you with our crudeness?

Have we implanted a hateful seed?

 

Woah Canada! Please say it ain’t so

You have not joined in the crazy race

taking sides with the spread of disease

losing touch with civility and grace

 

We need your sane and steady hand

We need your reasoned sanity

to calm our sometimes frenzied madness

to counter our wayward vanity

 

Outliers

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Outliers

 

Among the outliers are poets and artists

Those who go against the tide

Diviners of original constructs

For whom the common cannot abide

We take the artist for a lover

We take another for our bride

For when it comes to our survival

Cold calculus must decide

 

There’s nothing wrong with being different

The ones who choose to not belong

The ones who hear a different beat

The ones who sing a different song

But when it comes to life and death

We had better not be wrong

 

For the doctor and the artist

In this world there is a place

The one sustains the human spirit

The other saves the human race

 

Praying for a Miracle

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Praying for a Miracle

 

The party went on as usual

Bands music laughter dance

As time passed fewer masks

Were worn by greater crowds

Drinking rose and lowered inhibitions

Gathering with friends and family

Witnessed no talk of the silent scourge

The elephant beneath the surface

The monster no one mentions

Though we all know is lurking

 

We’re banking on a miracle

To save us from ourselves

Banking on a miracle

To restore our fading health

 

In the nation where Mandela lived

In the southern hemisphere

For reasons no one understands

A miracle appears

 

The scourge is in remission

The omicron withdraws

Like an army in retreat before

The outcome is determined

 

Pray we get lucky

Pray it’s finally over

Not because we beat it

But because it tired of the battle

And retired to await another day

 

The Omicron Generation

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

The Omicron Generation

 

The fifteenth letter of the Greek alphabet

The fifteenth star in a constellation

The fifteenth level of Dante’s inferno

The fifteenth wave of destruction

The fifteenth generation of Euro-Americans

 

In fifteen months we’ll all have omicron

We’ll have it to keep from getting it

In fifteen years the omicron generation

Will inherit the reigns of the earth

 

Future historians will remember us

For what we did and did not do

Deniers will always deny it

But the truth will know it’s true

 

Some stood with the laws of medicine

To fight against every wave

Others stood for superstition

And marched the elders to their graves

 

The omicron will unite us

Giving up and giving in

Why fight the moon and the stars

When we can all begin again

 

Do not give up the fight

No matter how long it takes

Those who yield to darkness

The future will forsake