Relief

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: AMERICAN POLITICS

 

Relief

 

Sigh breathe take it in let it go

Like shelter from a winter storm

Like fire in a world of snow

At last relief is on the way

To soften hardship’s blow

 

A billion words in Washington

Without a word of common sense

Without a sign of understanding

Without a hint of recompense

 

But in the end the ones

Who have no needs

Gave in to those who do

In the end their willful ignorance

Gave in to what is plainly true

 

The ones who lost their livelihoods

The ones who cannot pay the rent

The ones who live from day to day

The ones whose hope is all but spent

 

Spend an hour in their heads

Know their worries and their fears

No longer would you play your games

If you could feel behind their tears

 

The Pope in Baghdad

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS

The Pope in Baghdad

 

Remember when Iraq was everyday news

Every day a new battle

Every day another casualty

Every day another atrocity

Every day a new horror to endure

 

Now we hardly ever think of Iraq

The nation we destroyed for being there

The nation we designated evil

And decided to possess as tribute

To the never-ending war on terror

 

Now the Pope goes to Baghdad

In a gesture of good will

And I wonder what the Iraqis think

Do they greet him as we would greet

A most holy imam or ayatollah?

Do they hold him responsible for what

The western world has done?

 

This Pope is a holy man

This Pope brings a message of peace

This Pope believes in tolerance

But I wonder I would think

What I would say or do

If I were in Iraqi shoes

 

Walking in Dreams

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR

Walking in Dreams

 

Floating through distant galaxies

Slowing light speed to a crawl

Exploring inner space and outer limits

Without any limits at all

 

Diving to the deepest depths

Where the liquid darkness concealed

Creatures beyond imagining

Its hidden mysteries revealed

 

Rise above the mountains

Soar across the seven seas

Revisit those who left this earth

And return with a sense of ease

 

We are the gods of our existence

When we walk in our dreams

No adventure beyond our reach

No experience beyond our means

 

Tree of Life

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE

 

Tree of Life

 

I watch the wheel spin round and round

I wonder how we do not remember

I see the towers come crashing down

I think back on that day in September

 

They took a wrong turn

They made a bad choice

They followed a trail of lies

Now they’ve learned their lessons

Now they understand

They bow down before the tree of life

 

We have gone to war

We have fought the fight

To the gods of greed we have sacrificed

We have fought for money

We have fought for pride

We have fought pretending

God was on our side

 

We took a wrong turn

We made a bad choice

We followed a trail of lies

Now we’ve learned our lessons

Now we understand

We bow down before the tree of life

 

We have learned a hard truth

Now we realize

Playing follow the leader

It was never wise

If we want to grow

And we want to survive

We must value the planet

We must value all tribes

We bow down before the tree of life

We bow down before the tree of life

 

Protect your Privacy (On Tyranny)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: ON TYRANNY

Protect your Privacy

 

My life is an open book

But nobody wants to read it

 

In the age of the internet

Assume that everything you write

Say think or feel is accessible

To anyone who cares

 

The age of privacy is dead

 

We have sacrificed our privacy

By virtue of the times we live in

 

Reclaim your privacy

Communicate face to face

Write letters to your friends

Establish a personal space

 

In today’s misbegotten world

Know that we are never alone

Support laws to penalize corporations

That violate our personal zones

 

Blackmail and extortion

Are nasty words and deeds

Using personal data for profit

Is the epitome of greed

 

Fight back where you can

Resist where you cannot

Send a message to them all

Our privacy cannot be bought

 

 

Real World Politics (On Tyranny)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: ON TYRANNY

Real World Politics

 

A wise person once said

All politics is local

I don’t know if that’s true

But I do know this:

Your sphere of influence is limited

From behind a computer screen

Typing comments and tweets

On social media

Counting hearts and thumbs

 

When the pandemic passes

Go out into the world

Make new connections

March the streets of protest

Attend gatherings

Find interesting people

Talk to them and listen

 

We have been behind closed doors

Far too long

Make it a point to breathe

The sunlit air

Listen to the four winds

See which way they blow

Let others know you care

 

We are travelers on a small orb

Crowded yet alone

We can find common ground

If we adopt a civil tone

 

Cry for a Vision

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR

Cry for a Vision

 

Crazy Horse went into the hills

To cry for a vision

I cry with Crazy Horse

 

Crazy Horse received seven visions

He might have received nine

I cry for a vision that is

Mine and only mine

 

Crazy Horse was a visionary

I am all but blind

Yet I have seen my life

In many places

Many spaces many times

 

I have been the coyote

I have been the crow

I have been the wolf

I have been the buffalo

I have been the fire

I have been the stone

I have been the rain

I have been the snow

 

There is nothing in this life

I have not seen

There is nothing in this life

I have not been

 

It is here

It is gone

It is always

It is done

 

When I awake

I will carry my vision

Into the waking world

When I sleep I will return

To the home in my dreams

 

Human Contact (On Tyranny)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: ON TYRANNY

Human Contact

 

In the days and nights of isolation

Disconnected from our fellow beings

We lose all sense of our surroundings

Absorbed by our electronic screens

 

In the silence before the coming storm

We need to gaze into human eyes

To gauge the content of our neighbors

In times of trouble who will rise?

 

Who has rage and looks away?

Who engages to spread lies?

Who tests the limits of your patience?

Who wears a flag disguise? 

 

You may be sure it cannot happen

Not in this time and place

But if the spark becomes a flame

Best be prepared just in case

 

(Inspired by Timothy Snyder's On Tyranny)

 

 

Texas Breakdown

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CLIMATE CHANGE

 

Texas Breakdown

 

A raging storm of ice and snow

Sweeps over this great land

Like the horsemen of the apocalypse

Forcing Texas to take a stand

 

Blame it on the windmills

Blame it on the sun

Blame everyone and everything

Before the week is done

 

When it comes to power grids

The Lone Star stands alone

Cut off from all the nation

Calling names and throwing stones

 

Blame it on the liberals

Blame it on the fates

Blame it on the almanac

And all the other states

 

You can huff and puff a hurricane

You can plead for federal aid

But when all the clouds are lifted

This is the mess you made

 

No you’re not to blame for nature

We know it isn’t fair

Still you knew this day was coming

And you failed to get prepared

 

Blame it on the weather

Blame it on the stars

Blame it on the Green New Deal

We all know you’ve gone too far

 

The people do not deserve this fate

It was nothing that they did

Except to elect a government

That took the lowest bid

 

Blame it on the currents

Blame it on the gods

Blame it on the roulette wheel

With a wink and a knowing nod

 

Eyes

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR

Eyes

 

I greet the day with eyes wide open

I wonder and amaze

What fabulous events will unfold

To mystify or enchant me

What illuminating tales will be told

I am the receiver of golden promise

My senses are tuned to raise

I am the witness to the story

My eyes behold the daze

I see what others cannot see

Perceived beyond the phase

A world in liquid motion

A time of wicked lies

A place of pure devotion

A wonder to my eyes

 

The waters breathe and take it in

Air flows in waves of power

The earth below our humble feet

Churns in transformation

Fire rules the sky and soothes

The planet even as it burns

Life reveals itself at every turn

We breathe it in and learn

 

These eyes these ears this heart this mind

Are blessed with everything we find

As we await that final night

That final breath that ends our flight

 

 

Ferlinghetti (RIP)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR

Ferlinghetti

 

“If you would be a poet,

create works capable of answering

the challenge of apocalyptic times.”

 

-- Poetry as Insurgent Art

 

He fought the endless battle

For justice and equality

For peace and integrity

For art and creativity

With passion through poetry

 

He asked us to Speak Out

From our hearts to change minds

With our arts and our many voices

He was strong but always kind

 

He knew it was a battle

That would not end

Not in his lifetime or mine

He knew it was the fight

That mattered most

The constant state of struggle

That keeps the heart pumping

That keeps the ball rolling

That keeps the march marching

That in the end tells the story

Of humankind

 

He was the keeper of the beat

Holder of the sacred torch

Bearer of the golden flame

An institution of the City

Protector of the Lights

The banner of a generation

Passed through his hands

And settled in his soul

 

(Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Poet Extraordinaire,

Founder of City Lights; born in Bronxville NY,

March 24, 1919, died SF, February 22, 2021.)

 

The Blank

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR

The Blank

 

The ability of the mind to see

Whatever we might want to be

To mold and bend reality

To shape it to our will

To make the river still

The empty glass to fill

     and drink

 

We are living in a dream

Not caring what it means

Tearing at the seams

We walk our lonely roads

Disguising what it shows

And hiding what we know

     to be true

 

We’re filling in the blanks

While offering our thanks

To all within the ranks

Of those who do not care

Who fix their eyes and stare

While sitting in their chairs

     of comfort

 

We must find another way

To greet the light of day

To guide a lamb that strayed

To find our way back home

No more to blindly roam

Like children left alone

     and lost

 

We Will Overcome

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

 

We Will Overcome

 

We are backed against the wall

A pit of vipers at our feet

Outnumbered and outgunned

We are staring at defeat

But we strengthen our resolve

As the battle is not done

We swear on all that’s sacred

We will overcome

 

From a summer of blazing fire

To the winter of the freeze

We can hardly remember when

Our lives were blessed with ease

We have endured the great pandemic

We will survive the next disease

Fire wind ice and thunder

An explosion of the sun

Whatever nature nurtures

We will overcome

 

The preachers cry for mercy

Prophets hang their heads

Undertakers prosper

Soldiers count the dead

Poverty is everywhere

The peasants have no bread

The glory days are finished

No more battles to be won

Yet when the day turns over

We will overcome

 

Serbian Triumph

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Serbian Triumph

 

The people of Serbia

Have quietly been blessed

By being open to vaccines

They have surpassed the rest

 

While all of Europe hesitated

To open up their doors

The Serbians decided

Not to fight that war

 

They accepted new vaccines

From the Russians and Chinese

When others remained skeptical

They chose to say please

 

Only time can determine

If they made the right choice

But when it comes to saving lives

Politics should have no voice

 

Support Journalism (On Tyranny)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: ON TYRANNY

Support Journalism

 

Reporters are nearly obsolete

Journalists are a vanishing breed

To encourage truth and wisdom

Buy a newspaper plant a seed

 

Information is everywhere

But all sources are not the same

Many are merely propaganda rags

Misinformation is their game

 

We should investigate every story

We need to verify the facts

If we’re to be informed citizens

It’s not enough to just react

 

The internet is but a conduit

A simple means of communication

By feeding you what you would be fed

It creates a sphere of isolation

 

Support your local journalists

Support the journalistic creed

The truth may not serve our wants

But it may be what we need