Charles B. Wordsmith – poetry

ODE TO A RUSSIAN HOOLIGAN

Dedicated to Marina Ovsyannikova

Just another news broadcast About Russia’s special military operation And then this crazy lady walks across the set, Carrying a banner, which reads ‘Don’t believe the propaganda, They’re Lying to you here’, Signed ‘Russians against the War’. ‘ What I wonder will the babushkas say In the ocheret to buy kalbaca, “She must be mentally unbalanced”, “Or maybe a stooge for those Ukrainian fascists”, “Surely our great leader Putin wouldn’t lie to us”. The babushka at the end of the line keeps silent. Her eighteen year old grandson Is currently sitting in a tank Outside the city of Kyiv. “She’s just been fined, They should chuck her into prison and throw away the key, That’s what such traitors deserve”. Behind the sausage counter A young woman wraps up the meat For her rather disgruntled customers. She wants to tell them about the text Her boyfriend sent her, Showing pictures of bombed out buildings, People fleeing their homes, And how the Ukrainian soldier he captured, The same age as himself Wanted to know why Russia Seemed so intent On destroying and killing fellow Slavs. She wants him home. They were going to get married in the summer, But who knows now, when, if ever, Her handsome groom will return. She wants to scream at the babushkas Don’t believe what the national state TV tells you. In Russia these days, the only people You can rely on to tell the truth Are those they call ‘hooligans’. After all, who should really be thrown into prison? A brave lady, who could no longer stand all the lies, And risked her career and freedom to let the people know What was really happening in Ukraine, Or our strong leader, who happens to be Guilty of mass murder?

POEMS

WHO IS THE REAL FASCIST?

If you want to make a person seem evil and frightening Call him or her a fascist If you want to make people seem scary and threatening Call them fascists. So easy to call people names, To obscure the truth, To hide the facts, To paint yourself as the virtuous hero And your enemy as a terrible villain.

Looking at the newsreels from Mariupol, At the flattened buildings and deserted streets, Hearing about the 300.000 civilians still trapped Inside their besieged, broken city, Still bravely refusing to surrender, Despite their enemy’s awful ultimatum, I find I have to ask myself Who, here, is the real fascist?

Fascists believe they have the right, Due to their strength and power, To impose their will on those lesser nations, Who do not have the honour or good fortune To be born of the right nationality. Fascists like to invade other countries, To show who is boss, to pretend That they are destroying peoples’ lives For some greater nationalist glory.

Fascists are very good at lying, Good at locking up or killing Those that dare to tell the truth. According to Putin, the war in Ukraine Is merely a special military operation, And anyone who says otherwise Is guilty of treason.

Underneath the bombed and flattened Mariupol theatre In the shivering uncertain safety of the basement, The victims of Putin’s special military operation, Try to work out how they might get some water. Unlike this poet, their only focus is survival, But, if some do survive, if perhaps One day some act in a future play, Called ‘The Siege of Mariupol’, I think we know, who the evil criminal will be And which side will appear as fascists.