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Gideon Oknin Poem
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.
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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Gideon Oknin Poem
When the frustrated socialist sees that health care isn't free
He turns into a killer, claims he's saving you and me
He murders a CEO, to make a point, because he could
For the goal of perfection is the enemy of the good
He gets adulation from those who think healthcare is a right
They think profit is the devil, and he was fighting the good fight
But doctors must be paid, and nurses, drug makers too
When the government runs it all, will you kill when you can't sue?
Britain has national care, there the docs are underpaid
Patients don't get seen on time, whistleblowers are afraid
50 thousand wrong deaths each year, at least death is free
Anyone can murder, but that way lies anarchy.
Brian was a farm boy, then Valedictorian, then a CPA
Became an overpaid CEO, but isn't rising the American way?
He helped disabled kids compete, stayed a regular guy
But a rich Ivy League kid decided he must die.
When Covid came, Brian offered to distribute funds for free
Some see profit over people but doesn't seem that way to me.
It may be rad and cool to cheer, maybe they feel authentic and real
But some of us just see murder, and a wound that will fester, never heal.
There are problems with our health care, most of us agree
But if you think it's expensive now, just wait until its free
Systems that tried to replace profit, slaughtered millions, quite bizarre
I never understood how hypocritical radical leftists are.
If you come across the border, you get free care in the E.R.
Our hospitals go broke, because idealists went too far
Medicaid won't pay full costs, that causes bankruptcy too
And yes, our insurance system makes no sense, it needs a big redo.
No doctor can cure this revealed sickness in the air
Only 33 percent of youth say the killing was unfair
If you live by abstractions, you won't see wrong from right
A world that cheers on murder cannot claim the moral height.
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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Gideon Oknin Poem
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.
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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Gideon Oknin Poem
Oh what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw truth tellers doxed, and their addresses listed
I saw images on my cellphone put on by the twisted
I saw a prophet wailing as he was dragged to the madhouse
I saw madmen gaining all the levers of power
I saw wolves out of jail while their victims cower
I saw fools arm in arm with those who would kill them
I saw indoctrination vultures above me turning
Know-it-alls told me what to think, but I wasn't learning
I saw a meteor of old glory barely burning
And it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard desperate fathers called domestic terrorists
I heard speech is violence and violence is speech
I heard the fury of a woman scorned
I heard a prediction of vengeance, a new weapon borned
I strained my ears in the eye of the hurricane
And it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'll hike through the garden with high rising fountains
I'll go off into the forest, and up the mountains
I'll swim cross the ocean, and glide on the river
I'll raft the white water, before the oncoming slaughter
And it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall...
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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Gideon Oknin Poem
My Man Jim would come home drunk
One time I got into my car, found a body in the trunk.
But I remembered what I was told by Grandpa and Gran:
Never let details stop you standing by your man.
I followed him one night, I lost a friend's bet
He came out arm around a glamorous brunette
I confronted him later, I said "I'm your biggest fan
so I'll cry a river, but I'll stand by my man."
He liked to gamble, lost it all online
To make it up I had to work two jobs, not to mention overtime
My friends said "if you stay, you need a head exam"
But I never let details stop me standing by my Man.
One day in his sleep he confessed that in the fall
He planned to vote for Donald Trump, wanted that border wall
I exploded, shot Jim's dog, And Nellie, his beloved horse
Then threw out the family photos and filed for a divorce.
I went to the cemetery, said to Grandpa's stone
"I'm sorry, I tried, but that bird has flown"
Then two voices spoke as from a distant star
"We would forgive you, heck, we voted for FDR
But still, there's one thing we can't endorse
That's what you did to the dog, and Nellie the horse."
Thunder rolled and lightning flashed
The rain beat down, trees were smashed
The twister landed my car upside down with a thump
But what else could I have done; it was Donald TRUMP!
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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Gideon Oknin Poem
We were canoeing on a sunlit stream
A shadow of a willow, then a golden gleam
We entered a cathedral, white branches made a cover
And I hit you on the shoulder and said I loved you like a brother.
A dragonfly alighted on the bow of the boat
I rested my oars, watched a turtle float
Then you told me you had a past, always on the run
Had to keep a distance, because of what you'd done.
You had a covenant with shame, transparent you could not be
You could be a friend in a shallow way, but not eternity.
I said "I prefer perfection, but if perfection is declined
I've known you since finger-paints and crayons combined.
We were like brothers, and what are brothers for?
Don't cry on my shoulder, I don't need to hear more
Your eyes flickered with hope, though your soul felt unclean.
I gestured at the hills, where the vista views were green,
The river kept on flowing, like memories on the mend
You relaxed, I was there, like a brother and a friend.
I looked above to see a California Condor hover
The moment was calming, I thought he's like a brother.
But when the moment's over, and I'm feeling sober
I'll take that job in Whitehorse, though they say it's a lot colder
Whatever he did, I can't let him drag me down
Brotherhood has limits, and I'm heading out of town.
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2025
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Gideon Oknin Poem
I went to my car dealer, I hoped to save the planet
The saleslady told me EVs were cheap, and to call her Janet
She said we've got so many subsidies, and they're a great deal
I bought a F-150 Lightning truck, thought it was a steal
Janet waved as I drove off, then drank some champagne
Her staff slapped her on the back, did she call me a birdbrain?
But I loved the way it handled, how it would accelerate from a ramp
Zooming down that highway, I felt like a champ
And when it idled, there were no clouds of exhaust
I boasted to my friends about such clean tech for low cost
Then came Hurricane Michael, a storm out of hell
I couldn't stay in the flood plain, had to reach a motel
Drove the f-150, through torrential rain
Had to find a charger but there was jammed traffic in my lane
Finally found one in the parking lot of a Walmart store
Then the lights went out, no electricity any more
I was stranded in a hurricane, with a useless EV
flood waters rising, winds to an ultimate degree
Saw a roof fly away, then a tree tore
Made a dash for the Walmart, they let me in the door
The outer band passed us, with lightning and thunder
My EV was submerged, even the doors were under.
The sky glowed evilly, then a mailbox hit the truck
The battery exploded, what a cluster of bad luck
A cloud of carbon monoxide, and hydrogen chloride into the air
Hurricane Michael mixed with flame, was more than I could bear
Toxic gasses towering high, anything but green
I swallowed Walmart Whiskey watching that nightmarish scene
The rainwater reacted with the Lithium, and the hellscape got even worse
How did my f-150 Lightning suddenly become such a curse?
I started crying in the Walmart, people told me to be calm
While outside my pride and joy had become a toxic bomb
So now I live in upstate Ohio, and my new car guzzles gas
They tried to sell me another EV, but I politely took a pass
I did send an email, just to vent to dealer Janet
I said if I were the feds, anything renewable I would ban it
I should have stopped there but I sounded insane
I criticized her hairstyle, and her type of champagne
I kept going, and I let the venom flow,
I wrote she should sell swamps in the everglades, a low blow
I got a letter to cease and desist, so I had to refrain
But I'll never forget that hellscape, of fire and of rain
It was like a sci-fi movie, with cutting edge special effects
But with bad implications for our leader's intellects
You may want to save the planet, but the planet may not save you
Every storm cloud that passes reminds me of what I went through
Not to mention Walmart Whiskey, I've gone off that too
So my car will guzzle gas, and plants will guzzle CO2
There's got to be a better way, for now, the old must do.
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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Gideon Oknin Poem
Ngo Dinh Diem thought America was a friend
That turned out badly, he met a bloody end
A State Department cabal thought he denied human rights
They pulled the plug and turned off the lights
JFK agreed he had to go, Diem was hurting our side
Viet plotters then shot him, JFK was horrified.
Then we ended up putting our troops in Diem’s land
Fighting the reds, 58,000 US soldier’s last stand
Nixon tried to get out, an agreement behind Thieu’s back
Assured the south’s leader that he’d repel any attack
But Congress refused to fulfill that promise, and Vietnam fell.
Maybe the war was lost anyway, not easy to tell
Desperate people fell off choppers escaping Saigon
Half a million people left in boats you wouldn’t take a chance on
And then there was Cuba, where the reds took over too.
Cuban rebels came to fight, but we screwed them too.
They were left ashore for Soviet led troops to greet
JFK wouldn’t help, he feared the Latin street
Howitzers pounded 2,000 rounds into these guys
Russian tanks, Russian planes, victory their prize.
US pilots just offshore couldn’t give help, or supplies
We had promised both, but it turned out to be lies.
Communism has run Cuba since that bloody day
Fidel's forces fought in Africa to pave Marxism’s way
They advised Venezuela’s reds how to quash dissent
Freedom had its chance, we blinked, and out it went.
What use are America’s lofty words?
In '75 we backed, then abandoned the Kurds
As soon as we did, their enemies went in for the kill
Ultimately, it’s not just them, we also pay that bill.
Then there was the Shah of Iran, we told him “Liberalize”
The Mullahs saw this as weakness in humanitarian disguise
We sent General Huyser who told Iran's generals not to fight
When the Islamists took charge, those poor generals met their plight
Huyser read descriptions later of their mutilation
No liberalizing will happen now, an iron fist rules that nation.
I saw the photo of an Afghan, desperately hanging on to a plane
We bypassed the Afghan leaders to retreat, another stain
People stick their necks out, thinking we are their friends
This world learns the lesson our ambiguity sends.
Now I understand if we’re in the mire, we have to extricate
Abandon sunken costs, abandon allies to their fate.
But anyone who joins us must take into consideration
That we are a weathervane, a tempest tossed nation.
And our own wounded warriors must wonder at their sacrifice
Was fighting for this country worth their personal price?
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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Gideon Oknin Poem
As a boy Charles fished on the Thames riverside
He had a songbird, a dog, but life took a slide
His father got him a dead-end job in a Scottish town
It became a vortex bringing him down.
He got married young, soon nine kids to feed
His job barely paid; how could he get freed?
He illustrated books, still not enough
If you want to restart, in that situation its tough.
He ordered goods on loan, sold them for the bottle
Urge above reason, opened up full throttle.
He raided his kid's money box, he had little choice
The craving was too strong, it suppressed that moral voice.
One night he drank wood varnish, had no money for a drink
Such crazy self-damage drove him over the brink
Got delirium tremens, for months had to crawl
Doors closed behind him, he entered hell hall.
He ended up confined in a mental home.
Hallucinations crept in, much memory gone,
Was he a victim, or would you call it his sin?
Punished beyond justice, then epilepsy did him in.
For Charle's son Arthur, fate made amends
Arthur made his own path; could back out of dead ends
He created "Sherlock Holmes" a story that still has a hold
He wanted more fame for other books, but there he stuck gold.
Maybe Charles too could have made it, was not sealed for doom
Didn't have to have ethanol carve the letters on his tomb
But the craving is strong, drugs modify the brain
Sheer willpower can't take a man off the runaway train.
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2025
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Gideon Oknin Poem
When folks are young, they may feel blessed
But I coped with bullies, life felt stressed,
I started eating a lot, food always there
In theory a good thing, in my case a snare,
I ate whole boxes of doughnuts, chocolate cake too
Into my mouth, tasty pastries flew
Ate myself sick, could not disgorge
Then tried to run it off, body in a forge
Got strange symptoms, my extremities cold
Felt fatigue in the morning, I was young, but felt old
When I had a craving, to voraciously eat
In the battle of will, it was always a defeat.
The Hypothalamus is a pea shaped organ in the brain
Supposed to regulate craving, but my mark of Cain
Suppose to regulate reproductive urges too
When that kicked in, shame added to the stew
Not good or bad, food is meant to subsist
but If I went by a bakery, I could not resist
I'd pay for the delicacies, eat them standing there
People looked at me, I pretended not to care
Tried to eat bulk, solve the craving crime
In dark alleys, ate whole watermelons at a time,
If I had to buy something, I'd mail home the change
A life of privilege, led to something so strange.
Food was my master, it controlled me.
But I fasted part time, that's how I broke free.
I quieted down the enemy, now a friend
Got a second wind, a damaged man on the mend.
Got Shock Treatments, and Thorazine,
Helped with the symptoms, stopped snacks, wiped clean.
It wasn't all normal, I needed tricks for control
Trying to conquer what swallowed my soul.
The past can't be changed, but can one break the spell?
Avoid the positive feedback into hell?
You have to be selective, not clear out life's shelf
Discipline is needed for sanity and health
Not much is known about the traps in the mind
I've been in some, hope I left them behind
Should I blame myself, or blame my brain
Can any recrimination wipe out the stain?
When you're down in this life, baddies swoop with glee
Like vultures circling a wounded prey, they came for me.
They latched on, like an octopus in a marsh
I tried to tell my story, but it sounded mad, too harsh.
But it did make me think, as the iron rules kicked in
A harsh lesson learned in a world where mercy runs thin.
I should turn my back on the past, though I should not forget
My new problems are worse, but I freed my mind from the net
Copyright © Gideon Oknin | Year Posted 2024
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