Funeral Games II

Now Shoigu's private army takes the field;
Kadyrov and Prigozhin've done the same.
As Putin totters, stakes have gotten real
The warlords drill their assets for the Game.
The Muslim has no clear play on the throne;
The Patriarch insists that's his to grant.
Kadyrov must take Chechnya for his own
to safeguard his own life, where others can't.
When Alexander passed, he left no son
mature enough to take an empire's helm.
Succession's where great legacies are won;
the people starve while dukes contest the realm.
Old patterns stamped in Europe's scarlet blood
reprised in Ukraine's snow, and ice, and mud.

Funeral Games

Now Shoigu's private army takes the field;
Kadyrov and Prigozhin've done the same.
As Putin totters, stakes have gotten real
The warlords drill their assets for the Game.
The Muslim has no clear play on the throne;
The Patriarch insists that's his to give.
Kadyrov must take Chechnya for his own
if any haven's safe for him to live.
When Alexander passed, he left no son
mature enough to take an empire's helm.
Succession's where great legacies are won;
the people starve while dukes contest the realm.
Old patterns stamped in Europe's scarlet blood
reprised in Ukraine's snow, and ice, and mud.

Blonds in bondage

Maghrebi pirates held Gibraltar's strait
exacting tribute on those narrowed seas.
Norse traders, when obliged to innovate
linked stream to stream, portaging down through Kyiv.
To Mikkelburgh, a wonder to behold!
Before the world had heard of "Romanovs"
Where smelly wares were parlayed to bright gold
some days it's tusks and pelts, some days it's Slavs.
Until they're baptized, everyone's fair game;
"sold down the river" wasn't metaphor.
'Til Voldemar signed up--at least in name--
to live near rivers was to suffer war.
'Til Africa was featured in the Trade
the working class was signed up, raid by raid.

Rus

Professor Snyder guides us through Ukraine
three thousand years and more since Colchis fell.
Brave argonauts risked life and limb for grain
His trophy bride made Jason's life a Hell. 
Moroccan pirates held Gibraltar's strait;
Norse sailors couldn't buck that standing wave.
When Vikings were obliged to innovate,
their longboats plied the rivers, towed by slaves.
Far Muscovy presents the latest threat
like Lithuanians, and Poles before.
Ukrainians ain't going to forget
they bore the brunt of"Patriotic War".
ICBMs and oil are rough to eat
And in the end, Ukrainians have wheat.

happy birthday, Julie

The solstice child born on this longest night
portends great changes in the Legal world.
Those briefs are sealed; they've yet to see the light,
but possibilities seethe in this girl.
Though Thespis weeps, she won't pursue the stage;
let others give beloved classics voice.
There're wrongs to right on this benighted age;
It's force of Law that gives a woman choice.
Now, days edge longer, Christmas can't be far
we feast with friend and kin whom we hold dear.
The kids may soon be sitting for the Bar,
but for the nonce, it's sweet to have them near.
So happy birthday, Julie, here's a verse;
If not my best, I promise, I've penned worse.

gambit

The Finns remember rolling Russia back,
and coach Ukrainians to snipe from trees.
In dead of winter, patriots attack,
while Putin's conscripts snivel, drink, and freeze.
On Christmas Eve, we crossed the Delaware,
and took the Hessians roughly from behind.
Their London masters sniffed "that's scarcely fair!"
But no one pays those poofters any mind.
In asymmetric war, we give no pause;
invaders would just use it to re-arm.
The Kremlin's violated 'stablished laws;
they're not the side that's suffered grievous harm.
The empire Romanovs and Stalin grew
outlived its age, but losing here, it's through.

Frozen lines

The word's gone out:"we need cold weather gear
to drive invaders from our native land"
And Finland understands the Russian Bear
is vulnerable to a well-dressed man.
The million troops that Josef Stalin lost
to move a boundary stone, and claim some woods,
still sets the bar for what such wars can cost.
But Ruskyi Myr's gone "poof", this time for good.
Attrition reigns, where blitzkrieg failed to stun;
arms depots are depleted by the fray.
Entrenched like nightmares out of WorldWarOne.
The chance to shock and awe has slipped away.
Ukrainians appreciate the love
but with artillery rounds, please send gloves.

Tsar manqué

The Russian empire Putin meant to leave
as monument to his excessive pride,
died on the road, two days' march short of Kyiv;
The generals who swore they'd do it, lied.
Ukrainians remember Swedes, and Poles,
and Mongols staking out what wasn't theirs.
A people's right at home to wield control,
is not a thing for someone else's heirs.
The puppet Manafort worked to install
wrote off Sevastopol for paltry beans.
A bag of rubles bought a willing thrall;
it's all "diplomacy by other means".
Destroying what he claims by right to own,
for Russians' sake he must be overthrown.