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Best Poems Written by Gideon Oknin

Below are the all-time best Gideon Oknin poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Gideon Oknin Poem

Elegy to a promised land

In the quiet twilight, we gather here today,  
To honor my dad, remember him, and pray.  
From the promised land, he flew with no regret,  
To the fifties U.S., a different mindset.

In the old world, he wore many hats, even a soldier,  
Now a young man on a Greyhound bus, bound for Boulder.  
"Mariah," the bus played as they rolled along,  
He remembered Mount Moriah and mistook it in the song.

He told us the U.S. had been great, yet he was sad,  
Perhaps because we didn't know what we once had.  
He worked his way through the U of C,  
Studying the holistic subject of geography.

Dad became a professor; I watched the applause,  
At conferences, everyone knew who he was.  
A geographer who explored every field,  
Endless books in his study, a vast horizon revealed.

Our summers in New England and the West,  
The mile-square farm on Black Hill Road was the best.  
Swimming holes, blackberry bushes, mountain hikes,  
Exploring dirt roads on three-speed bikes.

But time went by, good came, but so did pain
People seemed so plastic, no anchor kept them sane
The sixties began the process, self-image changed,  
A once-great country now became deranged.

Geography was deemed passé, no longer in fashion,  
Radical winds swept through college halls, a destructive passion.  
A compass spinning wild, the intellectuals sinned,  
He wondered if Mariah still named the wind.

In older lands one friend had fought Nazis and Communists too
You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but it was true.
Dad joined with him and others to stem an intolerant tide,  
A battle of course doomed, but at least they tried.

While we're still standing here, memories endure,  
A young man's arrival, his heart remaining pure.  
He's gone now, but he didn't cave, he made his stand,  
In the old and then in a new Promised Land.

Zionists have been hunted in High School halls,  
Jews huddle in fright as mobs bang on the walls.  
What would he have felt, to see democracy’s shame?
Though I know he lost I’m proud he ran the race all the same.

Details | Gideon Oknin Poem

Rap: Rules of the Street

Internally unconventional, externally conform,
In the game of life, it's the norm.
Always watch yourself, like you're on a stage,
Avoid regrets, don't let your actions rage.

Bullies on the block, they don't care if you're nice,
Speak soft, carry a big stick, that's my advice
They don't care that you meant well, or how you feel
your weakness is the foe, your strength keeps it real.

[chorus]
you see the same rules on different scales
Where national policy spectacularly fails
you see in school and in the street
Details differ, same human flaws, they just repeat

Psychopaths and criminals, a mystery untold,
Their motives twisted, their stories cold.
Confronting bad men, assume the worst,
Act accordingly, before you're cursed.

Watch out for the idealist, promising revolution,
They'll manipulate your mind, cause confusion.
Destruction lurks in unseen directions,
Beware the traps, and their misdirections.

[chorus]
you see the same rules on different scales
Where national policy spectacularly fails
you see in school and in the street
Details differ, relax, take a seat, it's the same beat

No one's exempt from history's grip,
Great men's mistakes, we all might slip.
Bad organizations, breeding ground for sin,
Leaders rise, with darkness within

Beware the people with a disconnect
They preach one thing, but act incorrect
Activists on Indian land, claim they're green,
Leave trash all over, for natives to clean

Reading minds from faces, a futile endeavor,
Intentions hidden, like predicting the weather.
Don't make assumptions, from a two second look
It takes time for people to reveal the inner book.

Troubles compound, the more you go down
Gotta face the facts, can't get out of town
One trouble leads to more, it's a vicious path,
The worst it gets, the more they laugh

[chorus]
you see the same rules on different scales
Where national policy spectacularly fails
you see in school and in the street
Details differ, same human flaws, they just repeat

These rules of life, hard-earned and wise,
Navigate the world, with open eyes.
In the dance of existence, don't be naive,
Leave the matrix, take care what you believe.

Details | Gideon Oknin Poem

Betrayal

There's a false chord in the lullaby.
There's a dagger in the hand.
There's a stinger in the butterfly.
There's a scorpion in the sand.

There's harshness in the laugh.
A fist in velvet glove
A dead bird in your path
Contempt behind the love

Crushed eyeglass near your car
Banana peel on the floor
Bent nail gives you a jar.
Omens you can't ignore.

Some say you must be kept down.
They see no need to tell you why.
No tossed rope to those who drown.
No effort to tell truth from lie.

Some wish to force your view.
Some wish to mold your mind.
Back in the clamor, who rings true?
Who is wicked, who is kind?

There is no art as Shakespeare said
To know the mind from the face
In some hearts all good is dead
Extremes make up the human race.

Sure, they'll use every soaring phrase
But their hearts are full of hate
They'll follow any political craze
You'll see through them, but too late.

Details | Gideon Oknin Poem

Regrets of a woke therapist

I was a woke shrink, I sadly write this verse.
My patients came in bad shape, ended up worse.

Today there was Cohen, who thought he was French.
I told him either way, his privilege gave a stench.
I told him skin color made him an oppressor.
He got so upset; he jumped on my dresser.

There was Jane who when I said she was a man.
transitioned, then wanted to undo that plan.
I had told she can be any gender intersection.
But she stays in a state of permanent dejection.

Annie once hurt her head falling off a wall.
Her frantic husband first gave me the call.
I said her deranged thoughts were dealing with life's pain.
No such thing as crazy, a new way of being sane.

Hiroshi believed a film spread across the land,  
His scandal on the screen, completely out of hand.  
I told him he couldn't change, just accept the shame.
He committed Hara Kiri, it's me his parents blame.

Then came Gino Posca, crying like a child.
He said the Mob sprays him with drugs, the story was so wild.
I really couldn't take this tale; I was having a bad day.
I said I believed him I'd follow up straight away.

Gino was so grateful; he told all his amicos
I was wrong to strengthen his delusions, I suppose.
I drove home, increasing fear, two cars behind me all the way.
Dead bird under my mailbox, an odd whiff of skunk spray

Maybe my being woke was being asleep at the wheel.
I can't tell truth from fiction, can't go by what I feel.
Maybe all I was taught, contradicts common sense.
And who just threw that dead fish over my garden fence?