Democracy Betrayed (Hong Kong IV)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WORLD DEMOCRACY

Democracy Betrayed (Hong Kong IV)

 

Hong Kong yesterday

The promise of democracy under

The thumb of authoritarian government

 

Hong Kong today

Democracy betrayed

 

The people of Hong Kong

Have long looked to the west

For guidance and support

They look to us now in despair

 

We who have stood with despots

For economic gain

We who have fought alongside dictators

For strategic advantage

We fall all but silent now in the quest

For independence

In the struggle for democracy

In the fight for basic freedoms

 

How shall we respond to Hong Kong’s

Desperate cry for assistance?

The cry of democracy dying

Shall we turn our backs?

Shall we walk away?

Shall we serve notice to all the world

That America no longer cares?

That America is about the money

Freedom?  Democracy?

You’re on your own

We send our condolences

 

Bone Crush (Global Warming)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CLIMATE CHANGE

Bone Crush (Global Warming)

 

Bone crushing heat sweeps

Across the Great Northwest

From Seattle to Portland

From Portland to Boise Idaho

Temperatures borrowed from Navajo land

From Phoenix to Tuba City

From Tombstone to Albuquerque

In the peak of summer

 

May every member of congress

Every governor and senator

Who swore global warming was a hoax

A joke a figment of liberal imagination

Be sentenced now to a week

In an unairconditioned apartment

In Seattle Tacoma Portland or Spokane

If they survive the ordeal

Let the next words that emerge

From their mouths be an apology

For they what they knew but

Pretended not to know

 

Let them now know the curse

Of global warming

All the remaining days

Of their lives

 

Manifest (Destiny)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: HISTORY

Manifest

 

Humanity has a gift

for rationalizing behavior that exceeds

the boundaries of morality

Ripping open the earth for coal

Destroying the land for timber

Slaughtering the buffalo to kill a culture

Spreading smallpox to claim a land

Internment of the Japanese

Relocation of the Cherokee

Annihilation of the Jews

War for oil on foreign lands

 

We did it all for God

We did it all for destiny

We did it all to appease the gods

We did what we had to do

We were chosen

We will choose

 

Nothing is manifest

Nothing is written

To believe that it is

is to justify the evil deeds

that men do

 

Primitive Nation

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: AMERICAN DEMOCRACY

Primitive

 

One third of our population

Does not trust science or medicine

To save us from the ravages

Of a runaway disease

 

One third of our people

Would rather stand with Neo Nazis

Than stand behind our government

 

One third of our fellow citizens

Believe the ruling elite

Are deranged pedophiles

Trafficking children

 

How have we come so far?

Survived so long?

With so many of our own

Arrested in the primitive

Stages of development?

 

In so many ways we are

An ignorant nation

A savage nation

An infant nation

Determined to secure

Our own demise

 

Return of the Heat Wave

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL WARMING

Return of the Heat Wave

 

A year ago in August

A record wave of heat beat down on us

Like a raving army of mad savages

Bent on complete submission

 

The wave returns in June

Thundering fire smoke and brimstone

The guardians of hell surround us

Wrap their burning arms around us

And hold us in captivity

 

We are not beaten

But we are weakened

The push the pull the constant call

Of all we have endured

Waves of madness and oppression

Waves of sickness and disease

Waves of bigotry and murder

Waves of tragedy and heartbreak

 

Now another punishing blow

A record wave of heat in June

We dare not look ahead

At what the future holds

We live the moment and press on

We live each day to reach the night

And breathe again

 

Exceptionalism

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS

Exceptionalism

 

We know beyond reason

It cannot happen here

We’re the best in the world

We’ve nothing to fear

 

The finest physicians

That money can buy

Our great politicians

Tell the best lies

 

It only happens there

Where they piss in the road

And they don’t seem to care

Like frogs and toads

 

Maybe they’re human

We don’t really know

But we go very fast

And they go really slow

 

But it can happen here

Best heed the warning

If we pretend that it can’t

It’ll be here by morning

 

Time

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

 

Time

 

Time is a freight train

It bears down on you like rolling thunder

Like a buffalo stampede on the open plains

It beats you down and tramples you

Under waves of pounding hooves

A most horrible refrain

 

Time is the eye of a raging storm

It comforts you with a sense of calm

Before it yields to nature’s wrath

Ripping limb from branch

Uprooting tree from earth

Shattering our chosen path

 

Time is a river flowing

From a gentle easy rolling stream

To roaring rapids of impending doom

Spawning life to whole ecosystems

Taking death into her sweet embrace

While a deepest darkness looms

 

Time is a whisper in the darkest forest

Time is the silence of the deepest sea

Time bends folds sits still and rolls

Time is the ultimate mystery

 

Epic (for Bob Dylan)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Epic (for Bob Dylan)

 

Now this is a story about

A man named Jed

Lived out in the holler

Barely kept his family fed

He went out to dig a hole

God only knows the reason why

Out came a stream of oil

Lord it painted all the sky

So the bankers came a calling

With a word for Mister Jed

Sign here you’ll be a millionaire

Before you go to bed

 

So Jed took that paper

And he did not think about it

That man seemed nice and friendly

He had no reason to doubt it

So Jed took a silver pen

And affixed his given name

He signed away his future

His fortune and his fame

 

They took his home and his land

Dumped him in some random alley

Jed became a homeless man

In the Shenandoah valley

 

Jed never knew what happened

He just never understood

He’d always been an honest man

He did the best he could

 

Now Jed becomes a symbol of

Displacement of the masses

Or maybe he personifies

Separation of the classes

 

He always thought it kind of strange

And maybe a little funny

What happens when the bankers come

To offer up a lot of money

 

(after Bob Dylan’s 115^th Dream)

 

A Man without a Soul

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POETRY OF POLITICS

A Man without a Soul

 

A man who does not fear

The solemn judgment of history

The honest voice of retribution

The ill will of an entire nation

The widespread outrage of the world

The lost affection of friends and family

Is a man profoundly alone

 

A man who does not fear

The righteous wrath of his people

The mounting rage of the oppressed

The abandonment of moral grounding

A universal sense of shame

A desperate yearning for change

Is a man who should never be

Entrusted with power

 

For the man who has no fear

Is a man without a soul

 

A Dictator's Fear

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WORLD DEMOCRACY

 

A Dictator’s Fear

 

When everyone who speaks

Loudly and out of turn

Must fear for her freedom

Fear for her family

Fear for his life

The question must be asked:

What does the dictator fear?

The answers are many and clear:

An honest election

Freedom of speech

The right to gather in protest

A well-spoken opponent

A glimpse of true democracy

A mere taste of freedom

An independent new media

A voice of the people

The right to organize

A people’s rebellion

A balance of powers

An uncensored truth

 

In the fullness of time

A dictator’s greatest fear

As his end draws near

Is the inevitable end itself

For a dictator never surrenders

Power without blood

 

Finishing Point

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Finishing Point

 

On the seventh day the lord did rest

And decided it was best

One must make an end to the greatest ventures

One must yield to a final decree

For though life may reach eternity

We are but mortal entities

Whose journeys seek our destinies

 

We mark it on a map

We trace a course in hopeful dreams

We make all preparations

And embark in great faith

We encounter walls and barriers

We face a thousand unknown factors

Disasters strike from all directions

We find ourselves enchanted

And lose our selves in love

We make another plan

Mark a new direction

And learn to make amends

 

At the finishing point

Where all lives must end

Our destiny is never quite

What we intended it to be

Yet it is all we could ever want

All we could ever desire

All we could ever dream

We have reached an end

 

Dance

Sing

Rejoice

 

To Hear from Within

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

 

To Hear from Within

 

The heart is the drumbeat

The rhythm of life

Waves of an eternal ocean

Pounding a driving beat

The force of unending time

A song of soul survival

The poetry of living

The wonder of being alive

 

To hear from within

To feel one’s internal rhythm

To sense one’s pulse without touch

Is a sensation rarely felt

Only the artist can appreciate

The depth of such sensation

Only the poet can imagine

Such a foreign phenomenon

To feel beyond the senses

To exist beyond the self

To hear from within

 

Angela the Great (The Chancellor)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WORLD DEMOCRACY

The Chancellor (Angela the Great)

 

Elected to office in 2005

Dubya Bush was in his second term

Jacques Chirac was President of France

Tony Blair was PM of Great Britain

And Vladimir Putin was Czar of Russia

 

Angela the Great

Chancellor of the German Republic

Outlasted them all

Except the Great Dictator

Emperor of the North

Putin the Puppeteer

 

De facto leader of Europe

She guided her nation through

The ill-fated American wars on terror

The blooming of the European Union

The global economic collapse

The sudden shock of Brexit

The rise of buffoonery in the US and Britain

And the Great Pandemic of 2020

 

She stood up to nationalism

When nobody would

She stood up to Putin

When America faltered

She stood for democracy

When autocracy was in vogue

 

We may disagree with her policies

But her strength and perseverance

In times of great upheaval

Is beyond all question

 

All hail Angela Merkel

Long may she live and prosper

 

Running Dry (The Colorado River)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Running Dry

 

The Colorado River feeds the land

That feeds the world

When the river runs low

The battle between agriculture

Fish and wildlife

Industry and people begins

A battle no one wins

 

Water is life

When the river runs dry

Life shrivels and dies

Fruit on the vine

Grain and root vegetables

In dry cracked ground

Desperate and barren

Lost and unfound

 

Dry cracked earth

Does not grow crops

It becomes a wasteland

A host to the death spiral

Ugly and thirsting

Bleeding and bled

Dying and dead

 

The most fertile valley

In all the land

Will soon run dry and

The war for water will begin

We will then discover how

Human humanity really is

 

Nicaragua

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WORLD DEMOCRACY

 

Nicaragua

 

There was a time

(not so long ago)

When this nation favored

Latin American dictators

They were easy to control

They could be manipulated

With money

 

Ortega of Nicaragua

Follows the CIA handbook

Terrorize the opposition

Terrorize the people

Imprison those who threaten

Disappear those who persist

 

There was a time

(not so long ago)

The press went along

With the CIA charade

Those who fought for the people

For freedom and democracy

Were labeled radicals

Militants and communists

If they disappeared

Who would miss them?

 

But times have changed

(or have they?)

This nation sanctions

The Nicaraguan dictator

In the new world order

We honor and support

Only democracies

(or do we?

Only time can tell)

 

The Dissolving Past

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

 

The Dissolving Past

 

Whenever anybody says

That’s in the past

Understand that the past

Does not dissolve

Like ice cream on a summer day

The past remains

Like a cloud that lingers

Like a lover’s face

Like a song that moves you

Like saving grace

 

Whenever anybody says

The past does not concern me

Be assured the past concerns us all

The past holds onto you

Like tar to feathers

Like Custer’s Last Stand

Like a trauma of the psyche

Like the plane that did not land

 

Whenever anybody says

Let’s not talk about the past

Speak of nothing else

Until the ghosts stand exposed

Until the stories are all told

Until the buried have names

Until the miseries unfold

And everything hidden

Becomes everything known

 

The past does not dissolve

Like the present it expands

It renews in a constant cycle

Of death and rebirth

 

When the past dissolves

(or is allowed to dissolve)

We are as dawdling infants

Stunted in our growth

Cursed to relive the same old

Tragedies again and again

 

The past is the present

Eternal and ubiquitous

Until we know and understand this

We know and understand nothing

 

To remember is to connect

The present with the past

With the hope of building

A better future