The Great Debate

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: UKRAINE

The Great Debate

 

Let the great debate now begin

While Ukraine is still a nation

We cannot sit by and do nothing

If NATO could be their salvation

 

It is NATO that shivers the dictator

It is NATO that fills him with fear

If we debate Ukraine’s entry to NATO now

The end of the war could draw near

 

We call on a unified Europe

All nations that hold freedom dear

Is not Ukraine a deserving friend?

Has not their case become clear?

 

Serve notice to Vladimir Putin

The brutality must come to an end

The future of all the world

On this question may depend

 

Unionize

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POEMICS

Unionize

 

Working in a warehouse

Big Brother on my back

Watching every move I make

Counting boxes in a stack

They warn us every day and night

Keeping us on track

It would not be prudent

And it would not be wise

It is not the time to unionize

 

But the workers in Long Island

Took the future in their hands

We won’t be fooled or frightened

It is time to take a stand

 

When workers stand together

There’s no limit to their power

The time has come to unionize

To the minute and the hour

 

(Note: Workers in Long Island

vote to unionize Amazon.)

The Golden Egg

AN EASTER STORY FROM RANDOM JACK'S CHILDREN'S HOUR

by Jack Random with Illustrations by Robert Miller

 

 

The Golden Egg

 

All the children were in their Easter Sunday best outfits.  Sally had her pink dress with big yellow polka dots.  George wore his navy blue shorts with a billowy white shirt and suspenders.  Hair was coifed and combed, shoes were shined and faces were cleaned and cleaned again.  They were all primed and ready for the Great Easter Egg Hunt. 

Some said there were over a thousand brightly colored eggs and a thousand more plastic eggs containing candy and prizes to delight the young participants and fill their baskets with glory.  Laughter filled the air as children gathered at the starting line.  Parents looked on from their sheltered perches under the trees and on the porch. 

Mr. Williams was dressed in his Mad Hatter costume from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.  He marched to his starting post, turned to face the children and cleared his voice for his traditional speech: 

Ladies and Gentlemen!  Boys and Girls!  Welcome to the twenty-seventh annual Great Easter Egg Hunt of Dunwitty County!  This year we have the usual variety of colored eggs, candies and prizes to delight every child!  But one special child will have a very special treat indeed!  The child who finds the Golden Egg will be crowned this year’s Easter Egg King or Queen and will be privileged to ride in the Royal Float for the annual Easter Parade!  On your marks, get set…go! 

All the children ran as fast as they could and began to fill their baskets with delights – all that is except Carly who ambled along behind the others.  Carly was a child with special needs.  She had a condition – as her mother put it – that made it difficult to run and jump and dance and hop as the other children did.  But Carly had a gift that the other children did not have.  She believed in magic and because she believed magical things tended to happen. 

Today as she ambled out into the wide-open green lawn behind the other children, she saw a rabbit.  It was not an ordinary rabbit.  That she could clearly see.  It was a special rabbit.  It wore a pink shirt with broad white buttons, gray pants and white gloves.  One ear stood straight up and the other bent to the side.  It smiled a crooked wry smile that made you think it knew a secret that no one else knew.  The funny thing was no one else seemed to see the rabbit. 

Carly ambled right up to the smiling rabbit who bowed and introduced himself. 

“My name is Jack and who may I be informed is the charming young lady to whom I am speaking?” 

“My name is Carly!  Pleased to meet you, Jack!” 

She curtsied and Jack knew at once he had found the girl who would find the Golden Egg.  While all the other children scurried about, picking up eggs of every description and cackling with uncontrolled joy, Jack led Carly straight to a ten-feet tall pedestal.  It was glorious!  Jack pointed to the top and Carly saw it: a shining, brilliant and glowing golden egg!  It filled her with a happiness the likes of which she had never felt before but then it occurred to her that she could not reach the egg and her happiness was replaced with sorrow. 

Jack knew at once what she was thinking.  He smiled, took a few steps back and leaped up to grab the egg and carry it back to the ground where he handed it to Carly.  The joy instantly returned to her face and brightened her spirit.  She thanked Jack three or four times and then she ran to where her parents stood in the shade of a giant oak and held up the Golden Egg. 

Her parents hardly seemed to notice the Golden Egg.  They had just seen their little girl run like all the other children across the lawn of the Great Easter Egg Hunt.  It was a miracle. 

Carly looked back to thank her rabbit friend once more and she saw him bow and wink an instant before he vanished into thin air.  It was a very happy Easter for all – but especially for the little girl who believed in magic. 

 

 HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!!!

Shanghai Lockdown

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: CORONAVIRUS SERIES

Shanghai Lockdown

 

The virus that came from China

Is living and thriving there still

The question must never be asked:

How many has the virus killed?

 

They claimed a national victory

A source of honor and pride

No virus could ever defeat them

For the party would not abide

 

They have locked down a great city

Whose people now live in fear

They are losing so many loved ones

But they are not allowed to shed tears

 

We cry for the Chinese people

As we mourn all the dead and the ill

We now know we must come together

When confronting a virus that kills

 

Down

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Down

 

A scourge has lowered upon our town

Our home and happy days

Descend we will as descend we must

There is no other way

 

We’re lost inside a maze of tunnels

That trace the underground

We seek to circle back again

But the only way is down

 

There is no cure for this disease

No path to turn around

We’ve had our taste of ecstasy

Now we’ve run the ship aground

 

We bow our heads in solemn prayer

We cannot hear a sound

A bit of hope a touch of care

Are nowhere to be found

 

Why have you forsaken us?

Our destiny is bound

We beg for mercy as we must

Yet still we spiral down

 

False Report

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

False Report

 

In Moscow you can get prison time

For using the word war

In Russia you can lose your freedom

For asking why and what for?

In Moscow there are the ghosts

Of journalists and politicians

To remind us the cost of free speech

 

So tell me: if someone in Moscow

Or Vladivostok calls to ask

Your opinion of the president

What kind of fool would you have to be

To tell them the truth?

 

So when someone reports that 83 percent

Of the Russian people

Still support their president

The miracle is that seventeen percent

Refused to play the game

 

Soon the jails and prisons of Russia

Will be filled with dissidents

Draft resisters and soldiers

Who refused to fight

And all the world must rally

To their support

 

The Butcher of Aleppo

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

The Butcher of Aleppo

 

The Russian butcher of Aleppo

Has come to Ukraine

Mass graves become common

Bombs fall like a hard rain

 

Towns and cities destroyed

Reduced to barren waste

Death of innocence sanctioned

Opposing forces erased

 

The butcher has no feeling

A soul as empty as a ghost

He’ll leave a trail of terror

From the mountains to the coast

 

There is no end to the horror

This monster will unleash

We must rise to meet the moment

To cage a rabid beast

 

Curse of the Privileged Class

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: THE GREAT DIVIDE

Curse of the Privileged Class

 

The curse of the privileged class

Is that they assume privilege will last

Beyond the day after tomorrow

The grief behind the endless sorrow

Something that could only be

An eternal plague on humanity

 

The privileged class will assume

All other classes will be doomed

To fall and implode in a blast

The tragedy in which they’re cast

Gets lost in a cloud of dust

A memory that yields to rust

 

At the end of long lost day

It’s a script they would not play

An echo of a discordant song

Each note somehow seems wrong

Then it collapses in a feeling of fear

As the inevitable inevitably draws near

 

The privileged class will expire

Consumed in a burning rage of fire

Their vaunted status gone and done

All their battles lost and won

Their curse is to be forgotten

A legacy shriveled and rotten

 

The Lies of War

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

The Lies of War

 

He told you the war would be won in seven days

 

He lied

 

He told you the Ukrainian people loved

their mother Russia

 

He lied

 

He told you the invading army would be

welcomed with open arms and celebrations

the liberators at the gates

 

He lied

 

He told you the Ukrainian nationalists were

fascist Nazi’s and white supremacists

eager to provoke war

 

He lied

 

He packed a stadium with a hundred thousand

stone-faced citizens to tell them the war

was going well

 

He lied

 

At every turn ins this sordid affair

he has filled the squalid air

with the venomous lies of war

lies the people believe no more

Ballybeg of Donegal

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: LIFE SONGS

Donegal

 

If the Irish do anything at all

Better than anyone else on earth

It is to tell a story tall

In words that sing while merely speaking

To sing a song that tells a tale

That draws both laughter and tears

With a fresh pint of ale

 

Did you ever hear the story

Of the O’Donnell family in Ballybeg

County Donegal in northern Ireland?

 

It is the story of every family

A story of heartbreak and consuming sorrow

A story of triumph and compassion

A story of overcoming hardship

A story of tradition and love

 

The troubles split Ireland apart

Sending waves of conflict across the sea

Tearing at friends and families

Piercing the Irish heart

But in the end both blood and country

A culture of literature and song

A generosity of spirit prevails

Old wounds heal and all is well

For the good people of Donegal

 

(upon seeing The Aristocrats

By Brian Friel)

 

Nine More Years

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS 

Nine More Years

 

Nine more years on trumped up charges

Nine more years for being Navalny

In Russia today I would be sentence

To fifteen years for writing poetry

 

The dear leader doesn’t like my verse

He’s not alone but it could be worse

He has not heard me rant

He has not heard me curse

 

I stand with Navalny

I stand with Ukraine

I believe the dear leader

Has gone thoroughly insane

 

He creates more and more martyrs

Every minute of every day

How many more will there be

Before dear leader goes away?

 

Hide under a rock

Hide in a dark deep cave

The people are good and proud

They will not be your slaves

We will stand against you

From now until the grave

 

Putin's Allies (the Devil's Companions)

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

Putin’s Allies (the Devil’s Companions)

 

Putin launched his war on the west

Long before the invasion of Crimea

Infecting the body politic with the

Promise of nationalist authoritarianism

Poisoning the public discourse

With fear of the immigrant others

Le Pen and Zemmour in France

Matteo Salvini in Italy

Schroder and Weidel of Germany

Thierry Baudet of the Netherlands

Kyriakos Velopoulos of Greece

Santiago Abascal of Spain

Boris Johnson of Britannia

Bolsonaro of Brazil

Trump of the USA

 

They trip over their own tongues

Their own promises and loyalties

Yet the truth is clear

They are soldiers in Putin’s army

A war against democracy

A war against western values

A war against individual rights

And civil liberties

 

Listen to them carefully

For when the sanctions begin to bite

They will show their true colors

They belong to Putin

And they will return to him

At first light

 

The Indoctrinated

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS

The Indoctrinated

 

There is blame enough to go around

Those who saw the truth but remained silent

Those who spoke out but quietly

Those who protested but ineffectively

Those who took the easy path

Those who simply went along

Those who sang the party song

 

Those who knew but failed to act

The officers who fired the missiles

The commanders who gave the orders

The pilots who dropped the bombs

The soldiers who pulled the trigger

The officials who stood down

The workers who made the weapons

The journalists who toed the line

Those who pretended all was fine

 

The blame belongs to countless souls

across the years and decades

who saw what Putin was becoming

who knew the danger that he wrought

but feared his brutal retribution

who feared they would be caught

 

But what of those who were believers?

Those who bought the party line

Those who worshiped their dear leader

Those who followed with devotion

Those who never thought to question

Those who thought one man was God

Above the others, above the law

Despite all they plainly saw

 

What of the indoctrinated?

Do they too own a share of blame?

They should have known! you say

They should have seen past the lies

They would have known if they had tried

 

But as the followers of Adolf Hitler claimed:

If he had chosen you

You also would have followed

Where he led *

You also would have fought

You also would have bled

 

Let us not assess blame

Let us judge by what we do and say

Now that we all know the truth

 

* The Man in the Glass Booth

By Robert Shaw

 

Berlin Dispatch

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS

Berlin Dispatch

 

In Berlin they are walking a fine line

Between security and civil liberties

They are denying gun ownership

Infiltration of police and military forces

Means of recruitment and fundraising

To far right extremists

 

Germany knows the dangers of

Militant nationalist supremacist extremists

Better than any other nation

Germany knows how vulnerable

Democracy can be

 

As it is in Germany so it is in America

Birthplace of McCarthyism

Home of the militia movement

Home of conspiracy theorists

Home of authoritarian sympathizers

Home of the Klan

 

As it is in America so it is in Germany

We must walk a thin line

Between security and civil liberties

We must recognize the dangers

Without sacrificing the heart

Of our democracy

 

We must defend the rights

Of those we otherwise despise

We must defend the rights of those

Who would deny us our rights

Without hesitation

 

For that is what it means to be

A patriot

 

Police State

 RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: GLOBAL POLITICS (UKRAINE)

Police State

 

If you speak to a microphone in Red Square

You will be detained

If you speak your mind in a public place

You will be arrested

If you oppose the government

You will be detained

If you express sympathy for victims

Of the war in Ukraine

You will be arrested and detained

You will be reeducated

Reprogrammed and restrained

 

There are no dissidents in a police state

There are only unfortunate souls

There are only fools and delinquents

Captured by arrogant trolls

 

The leader is supreme

Without flaw or impediment

The leader is always right

And those who oppose

Must be silenced