A Lull in The Storm – 30th March 2022

 A Lull in The Storm – 30^th March 2022

 

Twas Summer’s End, short of material,

Cone Man reviewed events less climactic.

Interesting times, shocking, even surreal,

Yet even crises paused for effect dramatic.

 

Surreal times made the shocking mundane,

Reports struggled to stand out in a crowded field.

What was important? Choice taxed your brain.

How to digest the daily news yield?

 

News was plentifully supplied, and free,

Expense marked oil, wheat, everything.

Inflation afflicted employer and employee,

Awash with news, all felt inflation’s sting.

 

War raged in Eastern Europe,

Yet it was not the same war.

Javelins burned Bear Tribe’s paws,

Missiles pierced Crane Tribe’s heartland.

 

Anguish defeating anger,

Horror defeating hatred,

The tribes parlayed midst danger,

Hours marked by blood red.

 

Fear of Death concentrates the mind,

Harrowing daily fear clarifies attitudes.

Both tribes were in a terrible bind,

Truth slowly began to supplant platitudes.

 

War humbled Bear Tribe’s over-reaching pride,

War presented Crane Tribe with realities harsh.

Bear Tribe saw tanks did not have so thick a hide,

Crane Tribe saw Bear Tribe stuck in the marsh.

Ruthless warriors forced to become reasonable,

Ruthless realities forcing remorseful reconciliation.

Bear Tribe saw Crane Tribe’s will to be implacable,

Crane Tribe saw the need for a neutral equation.

 

‘Closer’, thought Cone Man,

‘Still far apart,

yet getting closer each day,’

Blood still flowed, but it was a start.

 

Cone Man nevertheless had a care:

Were negotiations merely a lull in the storm?

 

© Craig Turney

No Easy Way Out – 29th March 2022

 

No Easy Way Out – 29^th March 2022

 

Twas a sunny March Day,

Cone Man was taking stock.

His life easy and far away,

From Eastern Europe’s monstrous shock.

 

Comfortable in his man cave,

Uncomfortable with his inaction.

Crane Tribe defended by warriors’ brave,

While Cone Man thirsted for action.

 

Too old and inexperienced to enlist,

Too far away to dig a trench or build a barricade.

He could do no manly deed of might,

While manly men history made.

 

Twas too soon to tell while warriors fell,

What path the antagonists would take.

Peace negotiations were painful; War was hell,

What settlement would they make?

 

Twas also fearful to contemplate,

Realignments of erstwhile friends and foes.

Permanent interests concerned every state,

Knowing not what new blocs lurked in the shadows.

 

All bets were off, all pundits were fools,

Myriad possibilities presented themselves.

All possibilities had their academic schools,

Which theories would languish on library shelves?

 

Would the Yuan replace the Dollar?

Would inflation render both currencies worthless?

How to survive without Eastern European wheat?

Would Dragon Tribe stand by Bear Tribe?

Would Hindi Tribe ally with them both?

Would the Stars and Stripes Tribe keep bumbling?

 

The terrible monster held humanity in its thrall,

Epic in scale, heedless of humanity’s fate.

Sooner or later, the monster would call

The shadows lengthened; the hour was late.

 

The monster would die hard, thrashing about’

There was no safe way forward, no easy way out.

 

© Craig Turney

God help Ukraine! - 8th March 2022

 Twas Tuesday, twas a terrible day,

Cone Man was done with wasting words.

War raged in eastern Europe that day,

Tragedy defying attempts at humourous parody.

 

Twelve days had the war raged,

Twelve days Cone Man avoided the subject.

Young Russians died, Ukrainian civilians outraged,

Cone Man knew he must object.

 

Who would listen to him?

Would verse afford the defenseless a defense?

Why should others listen to him?

Who would take mortal offense?

 

Blood flowed freely, so try he must,

Could verse help others to find their sense.

Speaking his mind, in God he would trust,

Let others mock his efforts as pointless pretense.

 

Where to begin, how could a path be found,

Out of this mounting tragedy?

Knowing not the answer, unsure of his ground,

He decided to begin with analysis by allegory.

 

All hopes were but a prayer.

Victory? Ruthless commanders and dark allies.

Peace? Conferences, concessions, and myriad lies.

Surrender? Slavery and servitude to a foreign man.

Flight? Save yourself by becoming a ‘foreign’ man.

 

Each Ukrainian made his or her choice,

Each choice accompanied by inevitable pain.

Groaned Cone Man’s inner voice:

“God help Ukraine!”

 

© Craig Turney