Who amongst us is not moved by the courage of the Ukrainian people as they defend their nation from the ruthless Russian onslaught?
My deep empathy and respect was heightened a few days ago when I received a moving email from Vyacheslav Konoval, a Ukrainian poet. Slava (short for Vyacheslav) told me his work “is devoted to the most pressing social problems of our time, such as poverty, ecology, relations between the people and the government.......... and now war.”
In the United States of the 19th century, poetry too played a unique role in our history. It was the American Walt Whitman who believed that the power of poetry and democracy came from an ability to make a unified whole out of dissipated parts.
And so when Slava wrote to me and asked for The Fulcrum to publish a few of his poems I agreed without hesitation, for it is my hope that the imagery of Slava’s words will intimately connect us to the plight of his fellow Ukrainians in a way that other mediums simply cannot do.
Painful condition
Once on Thursday, I woke up weak,
having been covered with a warm quilt,
with a merciless temperature,
I am dying, and I am bleak.
Like a pendulum,
hearing the run of strikes in the clock’s click.
Laying in bed, I had exhausted from the undead,
I am similar to a sickly chick.
Contemplate on the white pills,
that had become the color of capitulation.
Please, God, stop all human ills,
overcome the pains, and be a healthy nation.
Fear of tankers
Sluggish frost on the grass
a crawling caterpillar in the dewdrops,
Serhiy's crew is preparing the papers, a military pass.
Leaving the fore post,
steel power hums on the battlefield,
in the funnels of mortars disappears like a ghost.
A projectile flies, blind,
sows the earth, bang sound, raises the ground,
be careful, defenders, don't lose your mind.
The battery beats
stench and embers crept into the forest,
thank God that the tank has 4 seats.
Enemy tanks hung their noses,
the wind spies on the sounds of the shafts,
our tank is hunt,
we will see, there will be iron roses.
One of our tanks to ten of them,
Is that justice?
The trunks of tanks, the oak stems.
Nightmare of Russians
A green bush crunches,
a rut winding in the field,
the cabin compartment opens,
the machine will fry enemies like delicious lunches.
HIMARS, power even in words,
a storm of night fires,
countries in queues behind the car, buyers.
Six shells fly in a line,
the rocket buzzes sharply,
the night turned into day
in the sky, with tongues of fire, shines.
The occupiers moan and cry,
HIMARS beat equipment and supplies,
nothing more to attack
but You, a Russian soldier, live in a lie.
Bohdana, she is a woman, a defender!
Holy Mother of God,
that gave knowledge with mother’s milk,
to create a wonderful fighting machine,
with a cabin and a crew, their number is odd.
The car has an affectionate name, Bohdana,
as a tribute to the designer’s bride
Bohdana is preparing rockets, is in a hurry,
she confidently leads the gunners as a guide.
Six shots up
kilometers of volleys count in the distance,
the captain looks calmly,
his black coffee is not yet ripe
coffee in a cup.
Bohdana throws shells from a cannon,
like a naughty girl
ready-made artillery stories for the grandson.
Bohdana, the reactive system,
spotted by an enemy howitzer,
the soldiers praise you as the goddess Aphrodite,
I am glad that I became a co-author.
Ukrainian Coolon
Iron needles are falling to the right and to the left,
the master holds the welding machine menacingly,
near his sledgehammer instrument lies, own, without theft,
sad, the equipment of the soldiers is bad, depressing.
Had a business, the master before the war,
boasts an electric car,
grief opened him a new purpose like a front door,
a cut is visible on his hands, and then there is a scar.
A tireless worker gathered a cohort of inventors,
turned workshops and garages into industrial centers,
construction jeeps leave the assembly line,
soldiers say that jeeps are fine.The guys assemble 20 cars in 10 days quickly,
knots, aggregates in machines are prickly,
16 hours per day, garage jeeps assemble,
the thought of volunteering makes my soul tremble.
Democratic U.S. Senate candidate Graham Platner speaks to voters at a town hall at the Elks Lodge 188 on June 7, 2026, in Portland, Maine.
McConnell and Platner both feel entitled
The two men could not be more different. One, a Republican, octogenarian, seven-term Southern senator, the other a progressive, millennial Maine oysterman who’s never spent a day in elected office.
But Mitch McConnell, the senior senator from Kentucky who’s been MIA for the past few weeks and Graham Platner, the Maine Senate candidate who’s facing calls to drop out of his race against Sen. Susan Collins, apparently do have something in common: an outsized sense of entitlement.
McConnell, who is 84 and not running for reelection, has been hospitalized for three weeks, and yet we still don’t fully know what he was admitted for or what his condition is. Per CNN, “his office has not disclosed a medical reason for the hospitalization or provided specifics on his health status beyond saying last week that he ‘continues to improve’ and ‘is working closely with his staff on Kentucky and Senate matters.’ ”
While several legislators have said they’ve talked to him and insist he sounds strong, others have said they are completely in the dark. One MAGA influencer, Laura Loomer, posted ”High level source close to the White House tells me ‘Mitch McConnell is officially brain dead. He’s not coming back.’ ”
Meanwhile, up in Maine, Platner has been artfully dodging calls from his own party to drop out of his race after several allegations of misconduct from women, including a sexual assault allegation from a former girlfriend, came to light. While Platner, who has managed to survive a Nazi-tattoo scandal, a sexting scandal, and several old tweets scandals, denies the allegations, he has not quit.
High-profile Democrats including Sens. Bernie Sanders and Chuck Schumer, the latter of whom had unsuccessfully hand-selected Maine Gov. Janet Mills to face Collins instead of Platner, have urged Platner to drop out, while other Dems have accused him of trying to influence the picking of his replacement.
Maine Democratic Party Executive Director Devon Murphy-Anderson released a statement Tuesday, which said in part:
“Unfortunately, Graham Platner’s team has repeatedly reached out to us in an attempt to put their thumb on the scale of what this process looks like. We have repeatedly reiterated to Graham Platner’s team that they have no role in determining our next Democratic nominee for the U.S. Senate nor in determining what this process looks like.”
Both incidents show a deep lack of accountability to voters, who in one case deserve to know whether their senator is capable of performing his duties, and in another deserve a candidate who isn’t being accused of crimes, bigotry and deception.
The offensive and odious entitlement of both McConnell and Platner stands out not because it is particularly unique among today’s political class. Tom Kean, the New Jersey GOP congressman, missed more than 100 votes, only sharing after a three-month mystery absence that he was dealing with depression.
Former President Joe Biden’s Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin failed to disclose a hospitalization for prostate cancer surgery, flouting the established rules for Cabinet members and senior U.S. officials.
From Biden’s insistence on running for reelection despite his obvious cognitive and political weaknesses to Trump’s brazen flouting of laws and norms, few politicians seem to appreciate that their public service job comes with responsibilities to constituents, including transparency and honesty.
But both parties increasingly justify the chicanery, because the stakes of winning elections and keeping power are simply too high. But that’s no excuse. If we’ve learned anything over the past decade, it’s that character and accountability do, in fact, matter. And when we, the voters, stop caring about it, well, so do they.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.