The Right to Kill

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: MASS SHOOTINGS

The Right to Kill

 

What is it with all these madmen?

Does it give them a twisted thrill?

The right to arms has now become

A sordid right to kill

 

They do not care what others think

The world belongs to them

We never asked them what they thought

Who are we to condemn?

 

They kill because they have the right

They kill because they can

They kill because they fear the night

Will no one understand?

 

There are more of them each day

They are arming to the hilt

If you ask them why they will proclaim

They have the right to kill

 

I did not give them weapons

I will not share the blame

But when he pulls the trigger

He does it in our name

Angry Men

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GUN CONTROL

Angry Men

 

We breed angry men in this country

Like they breed cheese in France

Like they breed horses in Kentucky

Like golfers on the Texas plains

Like ballplayers in Puerto Rico

 

We cultivate them from the cradle

We nourish them on entitlement

We embitter them with injustice

We embolden them with glory

We trigger them with rage

 

When they ready to explode

We offer no compassion

We offer no understanding

We offer no means of cooling down

We offer no pause for reflection

 

We give them guns and ammunition

We give them weapons of mass destruction

We give them military killing machines

We give them media of hate and rage

We point them the way to glory

And feign outrage when they kill

Young Punks

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  POEMICS (Mass Shootings)

 

Young Punks

 

Another mass shooting

This time north of Chicago

An Independence Day parade

Another young punk

With a weapon of mass destruction

And a clip of ammunition

Another killing of random individuals

Another ineffectual protest

Another indefensible act of violence

Another young man tangled in frustration

Tortured by his own psyche

 

We speculate and wonder

Who will be next?

We speculate and wonder

Why so many young men

Want to kill at random

We speculate and wonder

Why our culture produces

So much frustration and despair

 

It is not enough to take away the guns

(though it would surely help)

We must solve the equation of

Helplessness in a world of plenty

We must offer a sense of purpose

Not just to the chosen few

But to the forgotten many

We must offer new ways of living

In peace and mutual respect

 

There is too much anger

There is too much rage

To be so lost and hopeless

At such a young age

 

We must do better

We must do more

We must offer alternatives

We must open the door

 

War Zone

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POEMICS

 

War Zone

 

A nation that watches dozens

Of its people killed by gunfire

Doesn’t need to go to war

We live in a war zone

We are in perpetual war

We alone in this world

Allow such brutal carnage

We alone do nothing to stop it

 

Are we more impassioned than

The people of other nations?

Witness the Paris uprisings

Witness the protests of London

Witness the riots of Berlin

 

Are we more violent than other nations?

Witness the Spanish Inquisition

The War of the Roses

The rise of the Third Reich

The revolutions of Latin America

 

No and no again

We are no different than others

But we have one thing

Other nations do not have

The second amendment

Unfettered access to guns

And weapons of war

Period

 

Fear and Outrage

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: MASS SHOOTINGS

Fear and Outrage

 

Don’t worry mama said

It will subside

What you’re feeling now

That feeling deep inside

It seems it’s there to stay

As if the pain and sorrow

Will never go away

 

Go to sleep now mama said

Dream of happy days

Daffodils and cotton candy

Dance and run and play

That feeling that you’re feeling

Be strong be true be brave

It will not last forever

In the morning it will fade

 

Morning came and mama said

Darling child dry your eyes

Tomorrow will be better

I promise do not cry

But tomorrow came and went

And mama said with a sigh

Some sorrow never leaves

I don’t know why

 

Mass Shootings

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POEMICS

Mass Shootings

 

How dare we shrug at the blood of children

The death of innocents is always chilling

But to die in this manner…

A mad gunman (all mass shooters are mad)

Invades a sacred space –

Where the outside world is banished

Where an open mind is the only requirement –

And opens fire as if it were a war zone

As if wide-eyed kids were enemy soldiers

Where the explosion of gunfire does not end

Until blood covers the cold tiled floor

And nineteen children lie still

Motionless

Never to rise again…

 

To be a child and witness the slaughter

To have it imprinted on your mind

From Columbine to Sandy Hook

To a fourth-grade classroom in smalltown Texas

 

It will never end

Until America fundamentally changes

Until the gun industry gets out of politics

Until American voters stop pretending

That Americans cannot be free

Without a gun in every hand

Without access to mass-killing weapons

For every warped psycho killer

With a credit card

 

Mass shootings will not end

Until we vote out of office

Every self-serving politician

Who sold his and her soul

To protect the right to kill