Friday, May 15, 2020

Bury the Dead

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES


Bury the Dead

Mass graves in Central Park
Cremated remains in Lake Pontchartrain
A tribute to the heroes the survivors
And the families of the dead

The dead themselves no longer care
Pray they have passed to a better place
Though in truth we know not where

How many died in vain?
How many deaths ordained?
We must all wonder though
Few will voice the words

We let it rest
Leave it for another day
We cry we mourn we pray
But we will not ask
How many died in vain
Until the dead are put away
Until the day after we ask
Where do we bury the dead?

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Silence

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES


Silence

Broadway at midnight in the midst
Of the great pandemic
New Orleans’ French Quarter to Jackson Square
Columbus Avenue in San Francisco
Grant Park Chicago on a Sunday afternoon

There is a silence that bears the weight
Of a planet’s worried souls

There is a sorrow deeper than the depths
Of the human heart

From stadiums in the great cities
To small town bars and restaurants
A silence descends like a curtain on
The darkest night

None dare speak its name
None dare summon its power
Take cover and hide
Quiet do not breathe

We know its name
But we will not speak it aloud
Not now
Not ever


Wednesday, May 13, 2020

The Great Cleansing

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES


The Great Cleansing

The heavens opened up her gates
And down poured the rains of Eden
To wash away all our depravities
And clean our very souls

A hundred million voices sang as one
Forgive us our misdeeds and let us live again
For we have learned our lessons and
We have paid a price in sorrow far
Greater than the seven salted seas

And the rains came down and thunder
Cracked the eternal sky
Until alas there were no more tears to cry
And every mother’s son and daughter
Knew we would survive
To breathe in joy and sorrow one more time

And everyone alive swore
On all that is sacred and pure
This time we will do it right
This time we will care for the poor
This time we will lift humanity over wealth
This time we will embrace our role
As caretakers of the earth

This time we swear

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

One

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES


One

One world one planet one path
To survive the great pandemic
And resume the human race

We’ve lived through a Great Depression
Pestilence famine plague recessions
We’ll live through this and more
And rise in a state of grace

The lesson of this tragic tale
Is simple as true things are
We are not alone on this journey
We are one of infinite stars

The Lakota in their wisdom say
We are all of us related
We share the same ancestry
And to the same end we’re fated

The motto of this nation is
From the many we are one
If we fail to heed this message
As a species we are done

Monday, May 11, 2020

The Missing Moments

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES


The Missing Moments

Life is a series of moments
Moments we embrace and treasure
Moments that give us pleasure
Like a precious stone to a jeweler
An image to a photographer
A revelation to the faithful

We gather our moments together
Store them in the attics of our brains
Sort them out and gaze at them
When times get rough or
We get sentimental

We like to think our moments
Belong to us like photos in a box
That can never be taken away

But time and circumstance
Like thieves in the night
Can strip them from us
Bury them or twist them till
We no longer recognize

Time and circumstance are stealing
Moments now that never happened
Welcoming a newborn babe
Into a bright and loving world
Catching a foul ball with a bare hand
Sharing a sunset in the sunset of our lives
Finding comfort in a crowd of friends
Witnessing nature in her naked glory
Basking in the warmth of family
Communing with precious friends

All the moments that might have been
Vanish with the poisoned wind
May we all create new moments
But we cannot have them back again



Sunday, May 10, 2020

Normalizing the Abnormal

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Normalizing the Abnormal

Total transformation
In the flicker of flight
A dance in the darkness
With the shadows of doom
Flames jumping in glimmering light
Horrors receding on a fiendish night

A new way of living our daily lives
No bars no pubs no congregations
We exist now in isolation
A nation of loners is not a nation
We live in perpetual segregation

We walk our chosen paths alone
Observe from a distance
Converse on the phone
Interact on social media
Forever at home

We cease to be what we’ve always been
This new normal is foreign and strange
Without impulse or freedom of being
Like a marriage that’s been arranged

Saturday, May 09, 2020

Six Feet Under

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Six Feet Under

By order of the government
We live in a world where
Handshakes are forbidden
Where breath can kill
Where standing too close
Could be your last act
Of defiance

No hugs no kisses
No bump of the fist
No slap on the back
No whispers in the ear

No one wants to follow the rules
But defiance now is a game of fools

Don’t get too close
Don’t huddle together
No sharing space
No matter the weather

Do not falter and do not wonder
Six feet apart or six feet under

Friday, May 08, 2020

Destination Destiny

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Destination Destiny

During the nation’s bicentennial
I lived on Manhattan Island
Busted my ass to make it there
Had my moment on the stage
Saw my name in the Village Voice
If not on the marquee lights

I wanted to make New York my home
My base of operations
A place to lay my head and toil
The center of the creative universe
The cradle of art and imagination

I remember landing in Grand Central Station
Alone with my thoughts my destination
A script in my bag dreams in my head
I wanted to belong be found be read

In the end the great metropolis refused
To share my welcome
Tossed me out like an old pair of boots
To live with the masses was not my destiny
Or was it random chance

I always wondered what might have been
What could have would have happened
Would I have thrived?
Would I be dead?
More than ever I wonder now
Where my first love might have led

Thursday, May 07, 2020

The Cleansing

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



The Cleansing

Toxins spread across the land
Poison seeping from poisoned minds
Wretched souls and misery
Suffering the terror of need
By the hands of greed

And the waters come down
Like a rumbling train
From a broken sky springs
A cleansing rain

A thundering storm like the gods of war
Batten down the hatches
Bar the doors

Put our hands together and pray

Wash away the tears
Wash away the rage
Wash away the horror
Wash away the waste

Let us be whole again
Give us good health
Let us have joy again
Let us feel well

When the whole world is in such sorrow
Let it rain today until tomorrow

Wednesday, May 06, 2020

The Chase

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



The Chase

No more dawdling
No more spinning the top
No more jogging around the bend
This is where it stops
This is where the bullshit ends

You’ve been yanking my chain too long
Even when you’re right you’re wrong
People are sick and tired and dying
While you’re still singing the same old song

Now you want a war with Iran
Now you want a new war on drugs
Go home to your beloved Mar a Lago
Go bury your head in the Florida sand
Play a round of golf and make your stand
Spend time tweeting on your mobile phone
Just go your way and leave us all alone

Tuesday, May 05, 2020

Coronavirus Miracles

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Coronavirus Miracles

A decline in violent crimes
A spirit of giving spreads
People rally to desperate needs
Masks from upholstery
Hospitals in city centers
Hotels for the homeless
Debt forgiveness
Prepared meals
Tent cities

A million acts of generosity
For every brutal tragic death
Ordinary people understand
We’re all in this together
So why not lend a hand

The miracles of kindness
born of deadly despair
Give testament to all
who came before us
all who come after
and all who care

Humanity will endure
Humanity will survive
Humanity will prevail
In these dark and trying times

Monday, May 04, 2020

Fools Parade

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Fools Parade

A congregation in Louisiana
Praise the lord and pass the pestilence
Pandemic parties in Miami
Dancing to the edge of time
A Christian university in Georgia
Class in session stand in line

The fools parade is never canceled
The celebration must go on
Drink and dance the night away
Party to the break of dawn

Bars and taverns business booming
What could possibly go wrong?
They’ll have a thousand poor excuses
When the hammer comes down strong

Sunday, May 03, 2020

Incompetence Kills

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Incompetence Kills

People were fed up I understand
Throw out the old try a new brand
They’re all the same the old folks said
Now the old folks are sick in bed

You delivered a message loud and clear
They played to your hopes
He played to your fear

Now what do you think
When you’re calm and still?
You could not have known
Incompetence kills

We slipped by for three long years
The market soared
The end drew near

When the pandemic came
We wrote our wills
We should have known
Incompetence kills

He saw it coming and turned away
He said don’t worry we’ll be okay
We won’t all survive but most of us will
How were we to know?
Incompetence kills

He fought for the rich
Spat on the poor
On the bright side
He never started a war

Just a miserable leader
Grist for the mill
But we never suspected
Incompetence kills

Saturday, May 02, 2020

Social Order

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Social Order

Entropy by default

A thing in motion must stay in motion
Or disintegrate like scattered light
In a crystal prism

The question must be asked
How long can the social order last
Before entropy takes hold

A system fastened together
With chicken wire and good intentions
Cannot withstand a constant pounding
Of unforgiving pressure
Without beginning to bend
And bending till it snaps

The social order is a brittle bond
An agreement among civil society
Built on hope and ideology
Philanthropy and intellect
A free press and common assumptions
Concerning the nature of civilized
Existence

The social order is under attack
The assault did not begin
With the great pandemic
It began with an assault on reason
An attack on science
An undermining of truth
A demeaning of facts

But the great pandemic has
Magnified everything exponentially
Leaving the structure of government
The institutions of democracy
The foundations of society
In tatters

The question must be asked
How long can the social order last
Before we snap

Friday, May 01, 2020

The Oath

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



The Oath

Ordinary people step forward
In extraordinary times
Volunteers in a time of need
Risking their own lives and families
To answer others’ desperate pleas

Some find it hard to stay home
To sacrifice their social lives
To forego their human contacts
Till a return to sanity arrives

Strike a vivid contrast
To retired nurses and doctors
Emergency medical technicians
Police firefighters pharmacists
Clerks cooks food providers

Volunteers in a time of need
Leaving their homes every morning
Laying it all on the line

They took an oath
They could take a pass
None would blame them
None would shame them

They took an oath
And they will honor it

Courage is as courage does
In the dark days of fear

Thursday, April 30, 2020

The Crowd

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR:  CORONAVIRUS SERIES



The Crowd

Jammed together five hundred strong
A humming energy loud and long
Sustain the force pass it around
Raise the rafters with the power of sound

Let it roar like a tractor pull
At the county fair
Like a dozen screaming Strat's
On a volume dare

There’s nothing like the roar of a crowd
Springs from the heart true and loud

Will we ever see that again?
We will never see that again

Gone with the dust gone like trust
Vanished forever like a deal gone bust

Will we ever hear that roar again?
We will never hear that roar again

Will we ever feel that force again?
We will never feel that force again

The crowd has gone home
Dried up like yesterday’s rain
The party’s over
A change has taken hold
Crazy has gone insane

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Conspiracy Line

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES


Conspiracy Line


The Chinese invented it to keep their people in line
The Russians set it loose to unravel mankind
The elite know the cure but they won’t put it on the vine
It’s time to check in to the conspiracy line

Though we know where it started we don’t know where it ends
We’re taking care of our families and some of our friends
I hear Putin is laughing and Elvis is fine
And business is booming on the conspiracy line

It shot across the borders and swept around the earth
Now doctors pass judgement on what life is worth
The whole world is reeling and some are going blind
While they’re having a party on the conspiracy line

At first it took the old folks now it’s taking the young
Like a song that keeps singing that’s already been sung
Everybody is dying except me and mine
But the sun keeps shining on the conspiracy line

We are walking on thin ice in the survival mode
Retreating to our bunkers to protect our abode
The death toll keeps rising like an Everest climb
While everything thrives on the conspiracy line

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

When It's Over

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



When It’s Over

When this is over we’ll get together
tip a few and toss our thoughts up
to see what comes back down

When this is over we’ll set a date
and place our hearts on the kitchen table
Speak our minds on every topic under
the sun beyond the sea within
the ever expanding universe

We’ll share our dreams our inner thoughts
We’ll speak aloud our true emotions
Lovers lost and tossed devotions
We’ll laugh until we cry and then
We’ll laugh some more
We’ll laugh again

We’ll remember every moment
that ever passed between us
like a fat joint from days gone by

We’ll laugh until we cry

I’ll stumble at the door
You’ll tell me be careful
I’ll ask you
What for?

(for Carlos)

Monday, April 27, 2020

HARD TIMES: The Fever


EXCERPT FROM HARD TIMES: THE WRATH OF AN ANGRY GOD BY JACK RANDOM



THE FEVER


I go to sleep early with Cinn snuggled at my side and awaken in the darkened, early hours of the morning with a cold sweat covering my body.  I struggle to get up and throw some water on my face but I lose the battle.  The next thing I know I’m in the community room on the cot that Oleander once occupied.  Suddenly, instead of caretaker I’m among the cared for.  I will learn firsthand the horrors of this virus that creeps into your body and holds it for as long as it can until it releases you.  One way or the other.  
At first I fight back as everyone else does, following a stubborn and irrational instinct, refusing to believe that I’ve fallen victim.  Again and again, as Jo or Zar try to talk me down, I try to get up but my body refuses.  The pain is so acute and runs so deep that any movement triggers a cascade of agony.  The fever takes hold of my mind so that I no longer know where I am or why or how I got here.  Often as not, I can’t remember who I am.  At times I think I’m being held hostage by people who want to enslave me or steal the organs of my body.  I’m being tortured.  I’m being held against my will.  I’m a soldier in the hands of an unknown enemy.  They inject me with drugs that stop me from moving or thinking or trying to escape.  They want answers but I have none.  I cannot understand their questions. 
The only thing that can bring me back to earth and reality is the worried gaze of my loyal friend and companion.  Cinn is with me constantly.  She lays her head and paws on my chest and I never doubt her purpose is to comfort and heal me.  When the mind suffers it takes little comfort.  It seizes it and casts it away.  When the body suffers it seizes pain, pulls it in and holds it like a toxic treasure.  She alone is my salvation and comfort.  She alone can ward off the unseen demons attacking my mind and body even as I sleep, even as I run, even as I hide in the darkest corners of my subconscious mind.  
The sickness comes in waves, washing over me, drowning me, dragging me through a dark landscape with shadow creatures, yellow eyes and snarling, scowling lips, surrounding and devouring me.  I’m blue flame hot and shivering cold.  Then, just as I think I can bear no more it releases me, offering a glimpse of wellness before it resumes its punishing march. 
My sickness takes a toll on everyone in the camp.  They are already numbed by the deaths they have endured and the struggle they have overcome.  I have become more than a friend.  I’m someone they have come to respect.  I’m part of their family.  I am a brother.  I never talked much about my own family before the sickness grabbed me.  I told them who they are and where they are and why I left them but that’s all.  I’m afraid that if I talk about them too much it will consume me.  I don’t want to go back until things are better, until I can be sure that my presence will not add to their hardship.  So I didn’t talk about them.  But now that I’m sick that’s all I talk about.  I fade in and out of consciousness and every time I awake I wonder where I am and I ask for Madge and Denim and Charlie.  I demand to know where they are and if they’re safe.  
Oleander holds herself personally responsible for my illness.  She believes she infected me.  Whether that’s true no one can say but she feels it.  Sooner or later what you feel becomes the truth.  She and Janis sit by my side around the clock and of course Cinn is there too.  That little dog just lies by my side with her head on my chest looking at my face for signs of life or the shadow of death.  When I wake up she licks my face and reminds me I’m loved. 
They send someone on a solar crawler to check up on my family.  They had a long discussion about whether or not to tell my wife that I’m sick and might die.  They decide not to tell her because they’re afraid she would come to care for me and the sickness would take hold of her too.  They don’t want to leave our children orphans.  They aren’t sure if it’s the right thing to do.  In her place most people would want to know.  Most of them would have wanted to know but it comes down to the children and that’s what they decided.  They just want to be able to tell me that my family is safe.  If they aren’t safe they will hold on to that knowledge until I’m fully recovered or until the end draws near.  None of them had faced such decisions in their prior lives and nothing about it comes easy.   It is the blessing and the curse of the times.  We’re not bound by the laws or the moral codes of the state, the nation or the media.  We make our own laws and live with the consequences. 
They faced the same decision regarding a professor from the university who came down to observe their progress and offer advice.  She was close to Jo and a number of other students.  Jo said that without Dr. Arakawa none of this would have happened.  She was a brilliant physicist with practical knowledge in energy systems – particularly solar energy.  She had a husband and two children who stayed behind in Davis.  She was more than pleased with what they had accomplished but she came at exactly the wrong time. 
It was the week the illness hit so no one knew how bad it would be.  She held on for a long time.  Like so many others it seemed she would recover.  She was up and walking around in late autumn.  But she had a relapse and it hit her hard.  They had already informed her family that she was ill.  They were frank about the seriousness of the illness though they were confident of her recovery chances at the time. 
Her family came immediately.  All of them.  Jo and a friend tried to stop them at the gate down the road but they wouldn’t listen.  They even had the professor write a letter to dissuade them but it seemed to have the opposite effect.  The father, a professor of sociology, tried to persuade his son and daughter to stay behind but they refused to hear it.  They were a family.  Their wife and mother was deathly ill and they would be there by her side just as she would if it was one of them.  It’s strange that intelligent and educated people, people who dedicate so much of their existence to reason, yield logic to emotion when it counts most.  I can’t say that I would do otherwise. 
Dr. Arakawa held on until Christmas.  The winter was mild but a storm came down from the mountains on Christmas Eve and held for three days.  It snowed.  The locals said it hadn’t snowed here for twenty years.  It was comforting.  Like chicken soup or fresh baked bread.  They stayed inside most of the time, sipping warm drinks and talking softly about everything that had happened and whether or not it was worth it. 
When Dr. Arakawa died Christmas morning there was a deep sense of loss.  They were gathered in the community room when the family came in and announced her passing.  Her husband said she was coherent in the last moments before her death.  She said that what we were doing was important.  Her last wish was that we should carry on and complete the work that she had helped give birth.  She said there would always be hardships but they would succeed as long as they refuse to fail.  Those were her last words:  Refuse to fail.  
Her family returned to Davis and they hadn’t heard a word since.  They could only hope and pray they hadn’t contracted the sickness. 

It’s a solemn Christmas.  Zar comes to see me around midnight.  Oleander is asleep in a chair with an open book in her lap: McCarthy’s The Road.  He talks to me in soft tones for quite a while.  He tells me what happened and how sorrow had a grip on the camp.  He says they need me to pull through now more than ever or they might not make it.  He explains how important the professor had been to everyone.  He says he feels the same way about me and he thinks the others have the same feeling.  He asks me to think about it and if I can find a way back to them I should.  After that he just stands there looking at my face, wondering what I’m experiencing, wondering if it’s selfish to ask me to think of others, thinking that somehow I understand what he’s talking about.  I do.  Somewhere in my subconscious I hear every word and I understand. 
I die a thousand agonizing deaths before I finally find my footing.  When I do, Cinn is there, licking my face, welcoming me, and Janis is tending to me.  Only a handful of people are still sick.  The others have recovered and rejoined the outside world.  When they’re certain I’m well enough, I’m allowed to go outside as well.  A few days later Jo tells me about the professor who died.  The camp is in mourning and will remain so through the winter. 
At one point Zar asks me what I remember when I was under the spell of sickness.  Most of what I remember has no words.  There were times when I felt warmth and a sense of closeness to those around me.  I couldn’t recall what was said but I knew how it felt.  It felt like someone pulling me out of a hole, a deep dark hole.  I felt gratitude.  It gave me direction and fueled my will to fight back.  I told him I remember what he said on Christmas, that I heard and understood though I was unable to respond. 
Zar is deeply moved.  He says he doesn’t know if there is a God or another life after this one.  On so many levels it doesn’t make sense.  But he feels strongly that I had gone somewhere else and made a choice to come back.  He knows it’s irrational.  It goes against everything he’s been taught by people wiser, more educated and smarter than himself.  Still he’s come to the conclusion that an individual has a choice even in death.  Jo disagrees.  If wishes and prayers could bring a person back from death they would have worked on Dr. Arakawa.  She chooses to place her faith in science and her prayers are scientific inquiries.  She is no less grateful that I survived but she refuses to attribute it to anything but loving care and the laws of probability. 
It comes down to religion. No objective observer can doubt that religion is a mixed blessing at best and a scourge on humanity at worst.  The problem with religion is orthodoxy.  When people band together and recruit others on the condition that any knowledge that is not established in orthodox beliefs must be rejected it becomes the enemy of social and personal progress and growth.  It becomes the enemy of science and a threat to social order.  Jo and Zar agree that orthodox religion should have no part in their community but that all belief systems should be regarded with absolute tolerance as long as no one is harmed or hindered in any way.  That is the unspoken creed of the Sun Camp. 
I have missed Christmas but there’s good news: my family is safe.  They’re struggling like everyone else but they’re safe.  That’s all.  They did not make contact and when they explain why, I agree.  After all we’ve been through, it is not a risk I would have taken. 
The air seems fresher, the sunlight brighter and the whole world seems a better place.  I resolve to go home as soon as I’m able.  We would work it out.  For better or worse, we would find a way to work it out.  It takes a while for Zar and Jo and Holly and the rest to persuade me that I should wait until spring when I’m fully recovered and the weather is more forgiving. 

Hard Times is available at Amazon.com.  Google Jack Random. Amazon. 

Sunday, April 26, 2020

The Gap

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



The Gap

A strange affliction overtakes our leaders
in times of crisis and despair
A budding gap between word and deed
from the president to the local mayor

At times like this we need plain talk
Like John Wayne in an old time western
Tell us how it is and what to do
Give us the facts and we’ll see it through

Don’t doubletalk and fish for praise
Don’t spin the world till we’re in a daze
Spit it out and tell it short and straight
We’re strong enough to confront our fate

We’ve got to mobilize the masses
Put out the call and take all bids
Put the military on high alert
Or let’s not and say we did

Saturday, April 25, 2020

Mardi Gras

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Mardi Gras

Marching down Bourbon Street
Squeezed together like canned pears
Revelry and joy on every face
Music prancing in the open air

Hiding beneath the smiling faces
Beneath the carnival of light
Beneath the gaiety and laughter
Looms a creature of the night

N’Orleans at Mardi Gras
A mob with the mind of one
A throbbing mass of movement
Singing dancing beating their drums

Sweating bodies pressed together
Sacrificing every morsel of restraint
Collapsing in the depths of night
Embracing the glory of the saints

They pack their bags and travel home
As the enemy beyond our sight
Hiding deep within their pleasure
Will soon become a global blight

Friday, April 24, 2020

Diversions

RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES



Diversions

Invent games and story lines
Find patterns where none exist
Start rumors concerning strangers
Create multiple personalities
Troll movie stars

Long conversations with deities
Laughter with the devil
Cloud jumping from the moon
Playing chess with Kasparov

All those days so long ago
when every waking dream
was followed by

If I only had the time

Now we understand
We never have the time
Time has us