Richard Randolph
Richard Randolph Poems
Perhaps the world is a living thing,
and we are merely parasites living on it.
At first, so small and insignificant
no one could imagine our causing any real harm,
...
Thank you for calling.
One of our friendly representatives
will be with you shortly.
Please stay on the line.
...
So, why is this a great poem?
Let me try to explain.
First, notice there's no rhyme.
Rhyming is for children.
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People say I'm cranky and mean, a cynic,
and I suppose that I am,
but I don't believe equal opportunity is enough.
I believe in true social justice.
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In Praise of Soft Light
I like soft light best,
candles and moonlight.
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History is but a jumble of names and dates,
but it happened so long ago
what difference does it make?
I believe in living in the moment.
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Shall I compare thee to a winter's night?
Thou art far darker and more cold.
Winter nights oft are long and bereft of light
and slippery roads lead to deaths untold.
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Sticks and stones can break your bones,
but it's words that really hurt you.
Language that systematically undermines
one's culture, race, religion, or sexual orientation
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If I had the money,
if I had the time,
I'd buy a big old car
and drive to the oceanside.
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Your mother thinks it's time
I taught you about the birds and the bees,
so here's what I'll say about that.
God knows it's easy to envy birds,
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Two Roads
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
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A child is a magical thing.
It breathes air, eats food, and drinks water.
It smiles and knows what it is to be happy.
It cries and knows what it is to be sad.
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If the six million Jews who died in the Holocaust
saw their descendants treat an ethnic minority as second-class citizens,
what do you think they'd feel?
And if they saw them relegate these people
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We cut the mooring lines
and quietly paddled into the bay.
The ocean dared us onward
there was nothing left to say.
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The Greatest Mystery
Life is the greatest mystery,
a strange, magnificent blessing
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What people call reason
is usually nothing more than a weapon
they wield to justify their prejudices.
I have seen otherwise kind people
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I want to live in a world in which people won't tolerate
the murdering of innocent women and children,
where they'll insist it stop immediately,
without compromise, whatever the costs,
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Memories fade,
like paintings on a wall,
the images still exist
but the luster not at all.
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Richard Randolph Biography
Richard Randolph is a retired English professor living in Eugene, Oregon. Before retiring in 2021, he and his wife lived on the beautiful island of Kaua'i where he taught English courses at the community college. He completed his dissertation on Henry David Thoreau at the University of New Mexico in 1996. When he is not writing poetry, he likes to visit with his three grown children and one grandchild, take bike rides with his wife, play guitar, and walk his dog, Jasper. Over the years, he has written a few academic articles as well, primarily on American writers of the 19th century.)
The Best Poem Of Richard Randolph
The Dangerous Game
Perhaps the world is a living thing,
and we are merely parasites living on it.
At first, so small and insignificant
no one could imagine our causing any real harm,
and so we fed on, greedily and without remorse
as parasites do, but now it has become clear
we have sickened the Earth almost to death.
Oh, it's a dangerous game parasites play,
slowly devouring their host all the while knowing
that when it dies, they must abandon ship or die, too.
Some are already searching the skies for another host,
but this merely indicates our desperate situation.
There are no viable alternatives,
and so we are finally beginning to realize,
what we should have known all along,
that our fates are tied together.
The only hope is to transform the relationship
from parasite and host to a child and its mother,
but that will require a more fundamental change in attitude:
The Earth can no longer be something we merely use;
it has to be something we love.
Richard Randolph Comments
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2/24/2026 3:46:55 AM # 1.0.0
