Selected Poetry

life's a trip,
and we all know
that no one knows
which way to go
the politicians sing
their happy song
to make us think
there's nothing wrong
but the people know
it isn't so
the job their giving
you is snow
illusions aren't
so hard to see
chop a hole in the ice
and set the whales free
and act as if there's
nothin' wrong
as they burn another village
with a napalm balm
if the newsman doesn't
like your hair
just hit him in the nose
with a metal chair
it must be right
it's on the air
the goon just couldn't
take no more
as we sit and watch
the ratings soar
the newsman cat
is almost dead
with a busted nose
and a bleeding head
as they try to calm
a fanatic skinhead
sanity left the stage
so place your bets
on our favorite son
the man who deals
cocaine for guns
dictators better
turn and run
'cause all the fun
has just begun
to hold those
commie folks at bay
while we cover it up
with the CIA
and the big white house
on capitol hill
knows nothing about
that special till
where all the money
goes for aid
to the security gate, to
the butler and the maid
It seems the system's
here to stay
when you try to object
they take your guns away
that seems to be
the way it goes
when the gates of liberty
start to close
we'll have to bear up
like real champs
when they herd us all
into summer camps
not to fear
it isn't sad
wondering why the
kids go bad
just watching us
it makes them mad
try to fly
to soar
with the eagle
they'll pass a law
to make it illegal
there'll be no time
for a rebuttal
the rake and the sword
are of the same metal
this mental rape
or sour grapes
when history listens
reason glistens
sometimes anyway

Jack Rooney


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to celebrate

Nearness neighbors closely
to her abiding presence
as she works
without rest
and waits quietly
to open locked mysteries
and actualize
the possibilities
so long hidden
within her depths
who is she
who waits for me
at the doorway to eternity?
cradled in serenity
she waits patiently
until the time is ripe

Nearness neighbors closely
to his abiding thoughts
as he waits
within himself
for an uncertain truth
so long desired
Who is he
who waits for thee
with naive forgetfulness
and lightness of heart
and mind and soul
too blind to see
the rhythm of the wave
of sand and star and sky
until the end of time
it waits before their eyes

Nearness neighbors closely
in the twilight of today
in the mist
tomorrow's hope
at the threshold
of the future
they wait
to open inhibitions
so long hidden
within learned ways
a flower reaching upward
blooms and follows sunlight
until the end of day
waiting for the sunrise
the breeze of morning air
singing in the heights of sky
white puff clouds
drifting high
to celebrate a love

Jack Rooney

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hi low

c 2000, Jack Rooney. Steal these words.