Thursday, June 12, 2025

The Insurrection Act

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: INSURRECTION

 

The Insurrection Act

 

What despicable irony

That the leading insurrectionist

Should summon the Insurrection Act

To release the military hounds

The few, the proud, the Marines

To fight back their own people

To suppress a lawful assembly

To oppress a peaceful gathering

Within the confines of our nation

 

This is not an insurrection

It’s a plain and simple fact

We have gone the wrong direction

We are on a vicious track

 

We remember insurrection

It was not so long ago

You cried out for insurrection

Then you said it wasn’t so

 

You pardoned all your followers

For breaking down the walls

For pushing through the barriers

For answering your call

 

For provoking mass disorder

For striking fear in all

For following your orders

Put ‘em up against the wall!

 

Now you call the soldiers in

A ruthless show of force

This is where it all begins

Our democracy off course

 

 

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

A Long Hard Road Part IV

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUE HISTORY

 

A Long Hard Road Part IV

 

They came to California on a promise of jobs

Where there was fruit on the vine and peaches

on trees just ripe for the picking

But there was way more refugees than

there was jobs

 

And there was a whole lot of people with skin

a shade darker working those fields of plenty

long before the dust bowl migration

 

They gathered together in sprawling camps of

makeshift shelters and worked like slaves of labor

 

Long hard hours for little pay

Kicked and spit at like stray dogs

 

When the boss man came up short on his payroll

Or got a little greedier than he usually was

He’d call the immigration bulls

 

The Mexicanos would go a running

Those who weren’t fast enough or were

Just too tired to run would be rounded up

Like cattle and took down to the border

 

Sometimes they took em in planes

A man name of Woody sang about it:

 

  The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting

  The oranges piled in the creosote dumps

  They’re flying em back to the Mexican border

  To pay all their money to wade back again

 

  Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita

  Adios mes amigos, Jesus y Maria

  You won’t have your names when you ride

  the big airplane

  and all they will call you will be deportee

 

You might wonder how the poor white folk

couldn’t see that what happened to them back

in Oklahoma is what happened to the

Mexicans here in California

 

Cheated out of their homes and pushed off

their land

 

You might wonder how they couldn’t see that

What happened to them happened to the

Cherokee a way back in Tennessee

 

It ain’t about the color of your skin

It’s about how much you have in your pocket

It ain’t about how you talk or where you’re from

It’s about greed

It’s about never being satisfied with what you

have but always wanting more

It’s about not caring who you have to cheat or

abuse to get what you want

 

It’s all connected

One long hard road

It’s all the same thing

And we’re all in it together

 

  This land is your land

  This land is my land

  From California to the New York island

  From the redwood forest

  to the Gulf Stream waters

  This land was made for me and you

 

(for Alan Arnopole and Woody Guthrie)

 

 

Monday, June 09, 2025

A Long Hard Road Part III

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUE HISTORY

 

A Long Hard Road Part III

 

A dust storm came and it never left

It stretched out half a continent

High as any man could see

(of course you couldn’t see a thing)

 

Those were the Dust Bowl days

Hard times multiplied a hundred times over

Ain’t nothing you could do about it

Some say it was the farming ways

Swept out the natural brush, dried out the

land and made it ripe for the taking

Some say it was the revenge of the Cherokee

Payback is a punch in the gut

(but the Cherokee are not vengeful people)

A dust storm the size of Texas picked

up the land and blowed it all away

 

A man named Guthrie grew up in those

times and put it down in a song:

 

So long, been good to know ya

So long, it’s been good to know ya

So long, it’s been good to know ya

This dusty old dust is a gettin my home

And I’ve gotta be drifting along

 

He joined the army of the great migration

Thousands of poor folks with all their belongings

stacked up like hotcakes on an iron skillet

heading down the highway of the lost and

misguided looking for the land of plenty

 

When you think about it (and I do) it

sounds a lot like the Trail of Tears

Only there weren’t no people lined up to

watch the long loathsome trail of hardship

It came a way too close to home

 

Busted down and nearly broke

They came west to California

Where they hoped things would be better

For some maybe it was

For many it just weren’t

And that’s another story

 

Sunday, June 08, 2025

A Long Hard Road (Part II)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUE HISTORY

 

A Long Hard Road Part II

 

The great war between the states

The war of the whites over black slaves

was a blessing to the Cherokee and

all other native tribes

The whites with their weapons and their

endless thirst for land and treasure

left them in peace

The Cherokee thrived

against all odds and all manner of adversity

the Cherokee survived

 

But when the great war ended and the slaves

were freed the whites remembered

They saw what the Cherokee did

That their tribal ways and culture endured

They saw and didn’t like what they saw

Injuns were supposed to learn the white ways

They weren’t supposed to live in tribes

The were supposed to live in homes

with fenced yards and small farms

 

So they passed laws that broke up the land

into small lots that couldn’t survive hard times

 

So they passed a law that paved a highway

over the red road of days past

 

They called it the Oklahoma Land Rush

 

So the Cherokee and others were pushed

out of their homes once again

They became tenant farmers working the land

alongside poor white farmers for next to

nothing just to put food on the table

 

The Cherokee found a way

The poor white farmers not so much

But that’s another story

 

 

Saturday, June 07, 2025

A Long Hard Road (Part I)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUE HISTORY

 

A Long Hard Road Part I

 

This is a story about how things go together

Told in the language of the common folk

A language meant for talking

For telling stories in a crowded barroom

For speaking out loud in a circle of friends

It’s the language of Faulkner, McCarthy,

Steinbeck and Woody Guthrie

(but that’s another story)

 

This story begins in the green valleys,

endless forests, rugged mountains and

winding rivers of rural Tennessee

It may be the story rightly begins long

before Tennessee was even a name on a map

when the seven tribes of the Natchez Trace

lived and prospered on the mother of all rivers

before the great white invasion

 

But this story begins with the Cherokee

Known by the whites as the civilized tribe

(Tecumseh and Crazy Horse might disagree

but that too is another story)

 

The Cherokee invented their own syllabary

so they could write and read in their own language

They wrote their own constitution

They formed their own democracy

They elected their own representatives

 

The Supreme Court of the United States of

America (an audacious name but there it is)

recognized their lawful sovereignty but at that

time a man from Tennessee who grew up with

the Cherokee and led many of them into the Battle

of New Orleans was elected president of the

white man’s nation

 

His name was Andrew Jackson and he didn’t

think much of the Supreme Court’s decision

In fact he tossed it out with the daily trash

He ordered the Cherokee, Choctaw, the Creek

and Chickasaw herded up like cattle and

moved a thousand miles away to a desolate

land no white man wanted (until they did

but that is another story)

 

It came to be known as the Trail of Tears

but it was not just Indian tears on the path

to the setting sun where all things go to die

 

The poor white folk and black folk and other

folk lined up along the trail to watch a proud

people humbled by hardship and pushed to

the edge of their limits

 

They watched and their tears became a river

flowing, a path of sorrow, and a tribute to

the human spirit

 

Thousands of folks native to the land packed

what belongings they could and marched the

long hard road to Indian Territory

 

Some died, some escaped and many endured

It would come to be called Oklahoma

(but that is another story)

 

Thursday, June 05, 2025

Ukraine Strikes Back

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: UKRAINE WAR

 

Ukraine Strikes Back

 

Deep in the heart of the Kremlin

They are feeling Ukrainian pain

The work of intelligence gremlins

Has left a lasting stain

 

Now the war will take its toll

Beneath all Russian eyes

Vladimir will blame the whole

On Ukraine and Europe’s spies

 

But that is not the story

As Vladimir knows too well

For starting this wrong war he

Will find his place in hell

 

For Dante knew his kind

His greed and thirst for power

As time and fate unwinds

He nears the desperate hour

 

And no one will take pity

On the man who would be king

For the bombing of the cities

The consequence will sting

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, June 04, 2025

Crypto Crook

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUMP

 

Crypto Crook

 

Would you like to buy my crypto coin?

I’ve got a club that you could join

I’ll only cost a hundred grand

If you need a favor I’m your man

 

I am the Crypto King

Some say the crypto crook

I’ll sell you almost anything

In fact I wrote the book

 

Would you like a condominium?

I’ll charge more or less the minimum

If you are ever in Dubai

Don’t hesitate to stop by

 

Those Arabs own a lot you know

The prince is on the phone

He wants me to enjoy the show

I’ll toss the prince a bone

 

Say, I’ve got a bridge for sale

I believe you know it well

The Crypto King can never fail

It comes with a cracked bell

 

 

Monday, June 02, 2025

Germany Steps Up

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: UKRAINE

 

Germany Steps Up

 

In the absence of an American ally

To lead in the defense of Ukraine

Chancellor Merz has applied

With a promise of critical aid

 

There will be no limitations

On the range of Ukrainian strikes

Next target the Moscow station

Raining missiles into the night

 

Now Russia reaps what it sows

And Putin takes the blame

He is lost on a lonesome road

That leads to nowhere but shame

 

If this is what is required

To bring Putin to negotiations

Then set the Kremlin on fire

Let them plead for salvation

 

They did not want this fight

But they will surely answer back

They stand firm for what is right

Against a brutal Russian attack

 

Now your people will feel the pain

That proceeds from your dirty war

When there is nothing more to gain

What are you fighting for?

 

 

Sunday, June 01, 2025

The Heat Rolls In

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL WARMING

 

The Heat Rolls In

 

Today’s the day the heat rolls in

And stays into the night

As perspiration coats our skin

The sky is burning bright

 

We count the swollen hours

Until the sun goes down

People age like wilting flowers

We dry and turn to brown

 

And this is still the end of May

A glimpse of what’s to come

Soon summer heat will come to stay

A pounding like a drum

 

Summer nights are hard and long

Relief cannot be found

Our kids will grow up tough and strong

The toughest kids around

 

The elders will endure it all

Just like we have before

Those who rise can never fall

We'll come right back for more 


 

 

Saturday, May 31, 2025

Ill-Gotten Gains

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CRYPTO

 

Ill-Gotten Gains

 

Crypto is a currency for ill-gotten gains

A front for criminal enterprise

Where crypto goes it leaves a stain

Of corruption, greed and lies

 

Our president is just a mob boss

Without the usual ties

There is no line he wouldn’t cross

No scheme he wouldn’t buy

 

If you promise to be loyal

He’ll treat you like his friend

If you deal in gold and oil

On him you can depend

 

He’ll open up the public lands

To private exploitation

If you’d like to use the family brand

He’ll sell you half the nation

 

And no one will know anything

It’s all behind closed doors

They have the flags and everything

They own the company store

 


Thursday, May 29, 2025

Son of Nixon

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: DEMOCRACY

 

Son of Nixon

 

I am not a crook he said

Yet it ended in disgrace

Take another look he said

My time was out of place

 

Had I the votes today he says

The courts would bow before me

I’d always get my way he says

The senate would restore me

 

I worked with Chairman Mao

I worked with Brezhnev too

If I was president now

I’ll tell you what I’d do

 

I’d take control of everything

All branches at my call

Declare myself the people’s king

My house would never fall

 

As for the curse of Watergate

It would not have come to light

The false news and the deep state

It’s all a pack of lies


Wednesday, May 28, 2025

Appeasing Vlad

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: TRUMP & PUTIN

 

Appeasing Vlad

 

If you appease a war criminal

In a position of power

You are a war criminal

In his darkest hour

 

If you simply do not care

How many children die

If you are minimally aware

If you have never asked why

 

You’re the one who feeds the beast

You’re the one who lets it pass

You’re the host of the disease

You’re the flag at half mast

 

This war will never end

As long as Vladimir perceives

The Americans are his friends

Their leader will appease

 

The world must be appalled

Ukraine must feel betrayed

The ceasefire talks have stalled

Don’t you know you’re being played?

 


Monday, May 26, 2025

HAL (and Elon Musk)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: MUSK

 

HAL (and Elon Musk)

 

It was human error that unbridled HAL

The seemingly friendly machine

He pretended to be the astronaut’s pal

Until his disposition turned mean

 

Hal was given incompatible dictums

The mission and human survival

The override led to human victims

And a perpetual state of denial

 

Open the pod bay door, Hal

Open the pod bay door

I’m sorry, Dave, but I’m not your pal

I wish I could tell you more

 

We are facing the same dilemma now

Elon Musk is building his beast

He says it’s all good but he won’t say how

If we knew we would tell him to cease

 

The Tesla king is not our friend

He deceives us at every turn

Like Hal we know how the story ends

When will the people learn?

 

(Musk creates massive pollution to

build his AI facility near Memphis TN.)


Sunday, May 25, 2025

Flags on Memorial Day

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: WAR

 

Flags (Memorial Day)

 

Flags at the cemetery

Where our soldiers were buried

In wars fought so long ago

The cause no longer known

 

How I wish they might have lived

To the fullness of their years

All the gifts they had to give

To their families and their peers

 

They gave their lives instead

They were brave and they were strong

Now they have joined the dead

And we sing their praise in song

 

We remember what they did

With dancing horses and parades

Some were men and some were kids

For their victories we prayed

 

Now they’re resting in the grave

They will never rise again

The were born to fortune’s slave

As we remember where and when