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

 

Sunset Dream

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Sunset Dream

 

Soft step walking on clouds of gold

Taking chances where spirits fly

Saints and saviors with stories told

Sunset dreams in velvet skies

 

Ghost shadows hide in my head

Running circles in an empty lot

Remembering what someone said

Finding reasons for battles fought

 

There is someone watching over

There is someone you love

There is someone watching over

Someone in the stars above

 

Someone whispers this is the place

A singer sings I see her face

Hear the mothers of children cry

Lost our way we don’t know why

 

In the crossing of blue moon light

Standing guard all through the night

Hand of kindness brings us down

Landing us on solid ground

 

There is someone watching over

There is someone you love

There is someone watching over

Someone in the stars above

Old Joe Goes Overseas

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WORLD DEMOCRACY

Old Joe Goes Overseas

 

Old Joe goes overseas

To affirm our bonds with allies

As Beijing is locking down

Hiding state sponsored lies

Meantime Moscow is feeling bold

Sending out a team of spies

Democracy is on the wane

Dictatorship is on the rise

 

It’s a war of basic values

It’s a battle of the mind

One side seeks human rights

The other is flying blind

 

Xi Jinping enslaves minorities

Acceptance is your fate

Oppressing all his people

Imposing an Orwellian state

You will suffer harsh oppression

If you dare to deviate

 

Mr. Putin is little better

Though he plays a better game

To his political opposition

Their fate is much the same

He flaunts his techno power

His hackers put ours to shame

Old Joe must drop the hammer

Holding Vlad himself to blame

 

America is on the move

We’re getting back on track

Flexing our economic muscle

Ready for the next attack

So watch out all you autocrats

The Free World has what you lack

Freedom and individual rights

Democracy is coming back

 

Blank Slate (Tabula Rasa)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  POEMICS

Blank Slate (Tabula Rasa)

 

Wipe the slate clean

It must be done

The system has turned

The fruit is rotten

Throw it all out

Begin again

 

A nation gone astray

Contamination of the whole

A people grown afraid

A poisoning of the soul

 

Wipe it clean

Submerge it in disinfectant

Kill everything that breathes

Except the children

Spare the innocent

Eliminate the rest

Except the parents

Who care for the children

And the animals

Who bear no blame

And those who have no names

And those who meant no harm

Who only went along

Because they didn’t have

The guts or the strength to say no

 

Wipe it clean

Take no prisoners

Show no mercy

Throw it out with the trash

Before it builds a tower

To the moon

And back again

 

Wipe the slate clean

Tabula rasa

Or at least pretend we did

And start all over

With fresh eyes

 

Mexico City Blues (Killing Candidates)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WORLD DEMOCRACY

Killing Candidates in Mexico

 

In Texas they rig the ballot box

In Georgia they bring back Jim Crow

In Arizona they count until they win

They kill candidates in Mexico

 

No matter how bad it may seem

All we do and do not know

As bad as it is in Michigan

Things are worse in Mexico

 

Did they think no one would notice

When so many turned up dead

For the crime of failing to follow

Where corrupt leaders have led?

(for the nerve of failing to swallow

what the cartels have fed?)

 

You cannot blame el Presidente

At least he tries to help the poor

But democracy cannot survive when

The system is rotten to the core

 

I know we think it’s only Mexico

Things like this just happen there

But this is exactly what can occur

When the people no longer care

 

Crash and Burn

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: AMERICAN DEMOCRACY

Crash and Burn

 

America is a diverse nation

Divided we have always been

Divided by race and color

Divided by religious creed

Divided by regional loyalty

Divided by philosophy

 

But we the people

Have not been divided

On the question of democracy

Since the birthing of the republic

Since the debate in Philadelphia

Since the election of 1800

Since the rejection of aristocracy

 

A question echoes like hollow voices

In the empty chambers of my mind

It rattles through the halls of congress

Shakes loose the ties that bind:

 

When will we ever learn?

Not it seems before the towers

Of power crumble crash and burn

 

What then?

A Putin-style authoritarianism?

The people have no rights in Moscow

No first or second amendment

No bill of rights

No civil liberties

No free press

No right to gather in protest

No right to free speech

No free and fair elections

They have only hope

Like America circa 1776

Voids in the Cosmic Web

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Voids in the Cosmic Web

 

Scientists mapping dark matter

In a vast but finite universe

Have discovered the existence

Of large inexplicable voids

 

Voids where there should be darkness

Darkness where there should be light

Mysteries where there should be answers

Blindness where there should be sight

 

Voids in the cosmic web

Should anyone be surprised?

Even Einstein must have known

The universe wears a disguise

 

Every time we think we know

New secrets are revealed

The one true answer at the core

Will always be concealed

 

Once again we have discovered

It is the journey not the end

When alas we’ve mapped it all

The entire universe will bend

Leonard Peltier (He's Still There)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POEMICS

Leonard Peltier

 

All these years Leonard Peltier

Spent in prison

All these years the liberal intelligentsia

Promised to free him

(a promise like a million treaties broken)

He’s still there

With a cross to bear

Waiting for a day that never comes

 

Dylan sang for the Hurricane

(the man the authorities came to blame

for something he never done)

Hurricane Carter was released and

Dylan won the Nobel prize

Who sings for Peltier?

Convicted for being there

For having a name people knew

For having a defiant attitude

For being a troublesome Indian

For daring to stand up for his people

 

The FBI declared war on the sacred

bloodstained ground of Wounded Knee

They took aim at the warriors of AIM

And they paid a price in blood

But only Leonard Peltier faced

Trumped up charges and

Went to prison for forty years

 

Ain’t it time to let go?

Ain’t it time to let him breathe the air?

How much longer must he suffer

for our sins? 

 

Cities of Light

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POEMICS

Cities of Light

 

Seattle

Portland

San Francisco

LA

 

Cities of light

Oases of enlightenment

Where the people live

By the code of acceptance

Where kindness is a way of life

Where the government does all it can

To ease the pain of the suffering class

Where there is help for the homeless

Food for the hungry

Where they love the arts

And embrace the artist

 

Boulder

Austin

Nashville

Miami

 

Cities of light

Cities that have overcome histories

Of shame and darkness

Where the people strive to move forward

Where they embrace the progressive ideal

Cities that work to keep the dream alive

 

How strange that cities of light

So often have an ugly underside

Bad cops and rotten politicians

Brutality and corruption

 

It is a reminder that we can never rest

Rust never sleeps *

And we must always be on guard

Ready to act

Prepared to move

Especially in cities of light

 

* Neil Young

The Ghosts of Tulsa

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: HISTORY SERIES

The Ghosts of Tulsa

 

One hundred years ago

The good white folks of Tulsa Oklahoma

Armed with rifles and handguns

Gasoline and flame

Marched on the Greenwood District

Where the black folks lived and prospered

 

After two days of rampage and murder

Hundreds lay dead and thousands injured

The district dissolved in charred remains

The headline in the local paper read:

Two Whites Dead in Race Riot

 

The once booming businesses of

Greenwood no longer existed

The people had no choice but to leave

Nothing remained but fear and terror

To be buried in the deep dark hollows

Of their collective psyche

And the knowledge that this could

Happen to people with darker skin

Anywhere in the land of the free

 

The survivors moved away

But the spirits of the dead still

Roam those bloodstained streets

Still scream in horror

Still call out to loved ones

Buried in the smoldering rubble

 

How is it possible for anyone

To live and work and pray on these

Hallowed grounds of shame?

 

How can people sleep with the cries

Of women and children still

Ringing in the air?

 

Some crimes cannot be forgotten

Some towns can never atone

Some reparations will never be enough

 

Sand Creek

Wounded Knee

The Tulsa Massacre

 

Memorial Day

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POLITICS & LIFE

 

Memorial

 

We bear witness at the nation’s burial ground

Row upon row of sacred white markers

Tributes to the fallen of war

 

For many years we remember them

We salute their courage

We mourn their solemn sacrifice

 

They fought in the nation’s wars

Many had no choice

The nation called and they answered

As their fathers and grandfathers did

As their ancestors did

As they were supposed to do

As they were trained to do

 

Theirs was to do or die

Not to ask why

 

Then came Vietnam and we did ask why

We stood and marched in protest

We refused to serve

We burned our draft cards

We demanded an end to unjust war

 

Still we salute and pray

For those who served and fell

We remember their faces as long

As our memories allow

We remember their names

We tell their stories

And we fall silent

 

We fall silent and wonder

If only to ourselves

What might have been

Had they not been called to war

 

Beneath the Surface

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

 

Beneath the Surface

 

The sky is clear and blue today

A calm breeze caresses my face

Smiles and pleasantries abound

Everything seems to fit in place

 

Beneath the surface another world

Looms in hidden spaces

All is not well

Nor has it ever been

Chaos and misfortune lay in wait

Anxious to emerge and pounce

Eager to spread their misery

Ready to strike again

 

We strive to move forward

Put on our smiling faces

We go about our days

Nothing can disturb us

We cling to certain ways

We set and follow patterns

And rarely will we stray

 

Beneath the surface of our joy

There lies a certain desperation

A sense of overwhelming pressure

Traps and trepidation

Nothing is as it seems

Nor has it ever been

We live inside our dreams

And fight it to the end

Desperate Hours

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Desperate Hours

 

Hurling through the expanse of space

Our prospects dimming by the hour

We cannot turn the clock around

Building weapons extolling power

No one knows just where we’re bound

We are in the desperate hours

 

We live in fear of our fellow beings

Guarded communities brazen towers

Losing touch with beauty and grace

Natural wonders and simple flowers

Our lives slipping from our control

We’re in the desperate hours

 

O how we wish for simple pleasures

Our techno lives have turned us sour

We cannot live without devices

Our hopes now seem so dower

We turn around but it’s too late

We are in the desperate hours