A Not Too Pleasant Memory

 

 

I gazed at him with intent

And a memory surged within me,

Not at all a pleasant one

As you will very soon see.

 

He turned and looked at me

But our eyes never made four,

Before I could get a facial view

In a flash he was out the door.

 

I spontaneously followed him

Before I had done my shopping

But though I called out to him

I could see he was not stopping.

 

 

 

I returned to the grocery cart

And hurried to the cashier,

If I only I could get dispatched

I would be quickly out of there.

 

I did achieve that purpose

But it was still in vain

For the speed at which he left

Was like a run away train.

 

I carefully looked around

But he was nowhere in sight,

I knew I would not find him

Even if I search all night.

 

I had forgotten the experience

It was so long ago,

But at the time it happened

It was an emotional blow.

 

Someone walked up to me

His face had looked quite sad,

He shared with me a while

And things appeared quite bad.

 

His story was so heart rending

How could I not respond?

I felt relieved within my heart

I had helped another one. 

It was only after he had left

I found out I was ripped off,

And when I called out to him

He merely looked back and scoffed.

 

My informant had the experience

Of being conned that day

But got to me a little late

So I, too, became his prey.

 

I had become a victim

No doubt, one of several that day,

If the warning had come sooner

I would have kept him at bay.

 

It must have been him

And, perhaps he remembered me

For as I looked in his direction,

He thought it best to flee.

 

 

I cannot be fully sure

But still a caution I will leave,

Be careful with these villains

Else, like me, you will grieve.

 

Stewart Russell © August 2019

 

A Mystery to Me

 

 

 

His head resisted my hand

Pretty nigh a dozen times,

How dare he be so impertinent

Kept nagging at my mind.

 

This made me more determined

To knock his head clean off

But his neck was so strong

It kept his head aloft.

 

I cannot at present recall

The reason for my obsession

But to obliterate his head

Was my consuming passion.

 

And so, time and time again

His head would but up on my hand

And every time it resisted

The more I revised my plan.

 

This was a mystery to me

For he was much smaller than I

And what made it even worse,

He would always cry.

 

They viewed him as the victim

But the victim was really me,

How they miss this obvious fact

Increased my mystery.

 

 

Every time I slapped his head

My hand would actually sting

And the harder that I struck him

The more pain it would bring.

 

My aim was to change all this

And solve my mystery

But to my more sore displeasure

I was labeled a bully.

 

However I viewed this matter,

I saw me as the victim

But those unaware of my discomfort

Viewed me as the villain.

 

How very unfortunate for me!

My mystery only grew

And my desire to de-mystify it

Was determinedly renewed.

 

 

Call me Russia, if you will,

It is Ukraine that stings my hand,

I want it to be a satellite

And I must get on with my plan.

 

 

Does it not know its benefactor?

And the mutual things we share?

And the more it resists my chastening

The more I will have to bear?

 

Please see my side of the fracas:

I am really the victim,

It is truly a mystery to me

That you see me as the villain.

 

Hence, the analogy I brought:

Ukraine’s head and my hand,

I should feel nothing when I slap her,

To de-mystify this is my plan.

 

Her resistance is my pain,

You’d have to experience it to know,

So, back, off all you ignorant allies!

On with my plan I go!

 

Stewart Russell © February 26, 2022

 

Not for Truth

 

 

You remember we would tell a lie

And then say “not for truth”,

And to show we were just joking

This would be our proof.

 

We wanted to make it clear

That the story was not true

Hence, “not for truth” would follow

And by this everybody knew.

 

I haven’t heard it for a long time

And so, this might be a sign

That everything is the truth

Especially in this time.

 

Because today truth is relative

And I don’t know to what

But that is what I am hearing

And not from a few but quite a lot.

 

We need to bring it back

So that we can know for sure

“Not for truth” means they are joking

Like we would joke before.

 

It is standard these days

To entertain another with a lie

And then convince that person

It's a fact no one can deny.

 

 

Then it spreads like a wild fire

With the claim it is the truth

Whereupon many will swallow it

And add their own proof.

 

How I long to hear “not for truth”

And to know they are joking

Even if I am the unfortunate person

At whom they are poking.

 

You see, I can take a joke

And you know that I can give one

But it is getting really serious

And the jokes are all gone.

 

And I won’t say “not for truth”

Because I am serious this time,

It is time we make clear distinctions

And stop boggling the mind.

 

I heard the other day

Something I could not believe

But since there was no “not for truth”

It spread with bull-cow speed.

 

It turns out it was not true

But the “not for truth” came too late

Whereupon the victim in question

Was left in difficult straits.

 

How I long for a “not for truth”

So that I can dismiss what I hear,

But “not for truth is a thing of the past

And this is the reality I fear.

 

Stewart Russell © December 22, 2021

 

Freedom

To be free is what we long for

To be enslaved is what we abhor

The right to choose as we see fit

And push our cause as the law permits.

But so-called freedom was costly

Particularly for some of certain ethnicity

Achieved through blood and sweat and tears

To rid them of slavery and calm their fears.

In some cases the law had to be reframed

As men and women fought through much pain

So that the disenfranchised could also claim

Equal rights in their very own name.

Equal rights as relating to work done

And wages as an entitled compensation

Basic rights such as in education and health

And fair opportunities to accumulate wealth.

Equal rights whether black or tan

Equal rights whether woman or man

Equal rights for the rich and the poor

Equal rights to all no less and no more.

The right to facilities that others use

The right to do business without being abused

The right to affiliate with whom one chooses

The right to an opinion…one accepts or refuses.

Such laws were enshrined in the statute book

Into which legal minds will always look

Oft to defend a villain who such laws forsook

As well as the victim whose right they took.

It is not an uncommon thing these days

For some to abuse these laws in diverse ways

Looking for loop holes they can explore

And some unrepentant defaulter restore.

Sometimes freedom may be returned for cash

Readily available to one that has it stashed

And with a choice of confinement or a fine

Will opt for the latter one as the judge defines.

Sometimes freedom is dependent on money

Requested by a legal luminary

To represent one charged with a felony

To decide whether he is innocent or guilty.

Some that should have been incarcerated

After due process were allowed to go free

This may have been the prowess of a legal mind

That articulated some legal technicality

One is innocent until he has been proven guilty

So the law of the land declares

But most often his innocence his guilt precedes

When his profile and history in the media appears.

Then there is the issue of infringing one’s rights

Acknowledged by that someone’s legal foresight

Attentive enough to recognize he’s been wronged

And files a claim to obtain what to him belongs.

This doesn’t always go as the claimant believes

Interpretation influences what the judge perceives

Such a case may be won or lost on argument

Often based on some long passed precedent.

Freedom is defined by the law and the court

And evidence must be given one’s case to support

Freedom therefore becomes a legal construct

Determined by the law and the statute books.

So by now one and all should have picked up

That freedom for some is a peculiar cup

It’s yours, yes but not always easily accessed

It often requires money to mount your protest.

In some countries too depending on the rule

Some minority groups use the law as a tool

Laws recently passed their cause to advance

And their God-forbidden lifestyles to enhance.

Giving religious freedom to one and not another

The law supporting one and to the other a bother

Permitting one the right to advance his cause

And the other one putting his right on pause.

The rule cleverly manipulated by the minority

With spurious arguments and aggressive militancy

Fell for their plot and succumbed to their demand

And thus deprived the majority on the other hand.

So that the freedoms once taken for granted

Currently by the same law are now recanted

Making an abject mockery of “the majority rules”

And those upholding democracy looking like fools.

The face of freedom constantly is being rearranged

Like a game in which the rules are often changed

Giving ascendancy to the clearly mentally deranged

I say from my vantage point such a freedom is strange.

  

The legislators are carried away on a political wave

Making laws that support how weird people behave

Facilitating whatever their demented minds may crave

Meekly capitulating to how they rant and rave.

And we call this freedom; freedom that’s abused

Freedom for a minority but for a majority refused

Freedom betrayed now under a veil of threats

A pseudo freedom bringing upon us many regrets.

Freedom outside of God is a façade and short lived

It simply says take all you can, no need to give

It’s a selfish obsession promoting me, myself and mine

Those three always up front all others stand behind.

What do we have?  A crazed world out of whack

A freedom that’s enforced and behavior that is slack

Wrong that passes as right and right that is now wrong

A paradigm shift and the weak elements made strong.

Real freedom upon God’s Holy Word hinges

Not a flirtatious façade deep within evil’s fringes

Injected into confused minds as though with syringes

At the thought of such a self-respected soul cringes.

Freedom is the God-given ability to do what is right

That is doing what is honourable in God’s own sight

Revealed through Holy Scripture’s illuminating light

Giving to one and all in need of such spiritual insight.

Freedom is really Jesus delivering one from sin

Initiating relationship and a steadfast walk with him

Enabled by the Holy Spirit who resides within

Giving clarity to one’s vision that once was dim.

  

Freedom is a walk in the Spirit not after the flesh

A life of self-denial forsaking what one once relished

A change of desires and a delight in the Lord

Internalizing daily doses of His precious Word.

Freedom was not chartered or championed by man

Freedom was determined through the divine plan

God the Father, Jesus the Son and the Spirit all three

Conceptualized, executed and enables such in you and me.

Stewart Russell © 2016