The Unraveling

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: PUTIN

The Unraveling

 

A mercenary force strikes

at the heart of the Kremlin

Capturing the center of operations

for the war in Ukraine

Cracking the myth of Putin’s invincibility

The march to Moscow aborted

The damage is irreversible

The mercenary warlord is empowered

Putin’s reputation is torn and tattered

The unraveling begins

If one man can defy the dictator

why not another?

Why not an uprising?

Why not a rebellion?

If one man can condemn the military

how long will the generals remain loyal?

For the first time in decades

the question must be asked:

Who holds the reins of power?

Where is Putin now?

That he has miscalculated is clear

He miscalculated in invading Ukraine

He overestimated his authority

His control over the mercenary forces

If the warlord lives beyond tomorrow

Vladimir Putin will fall

Fall from grace

Fall from favor

Fall from the seat of power

 

Vlad the Mad

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: UKRAINE

Vlad the Mad

 

The best laid plans of mice and men

Could not predict where we have been

He risked it all to take Ukraine

All those soldiers’ lives in vain

Now all his plans will fall and crumble

Each step he seems to trip and stumble

 

We know he’s angry but is he mad?

We can’t dismiss the wrath of Vlad

 

The curtains rise revealing all

Foreshadowing the Kremlin’s fall

Vlad reached for more than he was able

So his hold on power seems unstable

The well-worn myth of his strength falling

A darker destiny now is calling

 

We know he’s angry but is he mad?

We can’t dismiss the wrath of Vlad

 

Po Runs Dry

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: RIVER SERIES

Po Runs Dry

 

The waters that feed an ancient land

That fuel the farms and vineyards

From lush valleys to rolling hills

From heavenly gardens to fields of plenty

The river that has carved its way

Through granite mountains and forests

That has given a people life

In all its splendor

 

The River Po is running dry

And we know why

We all know why

 

Millennia of running waters

Millennia of winding through the earth

Millennia of streams and tributaries

Feeding a land of thirst

 

The River Po is running dry

And we know why

We all know why

 

How long before the whole of Italy

The land that gave us Dante

The land that nourished a great religion

A land rich in wine and fine cuisine

A land of superb architecture

A land of philosophy and culture

Alas becomes a barren wasteland

 

The River Po is running dry

And we know why

We all know why

 

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