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 Mar 2014 JA Doetsch
martin
Death's embrace comes often to this place
By bullet gas grenade or shell
Or some other kind of hell

Every village, every town
Sends out their sons to be cut down
For so many good young men
It's how the nightmare ends

In these once tranquil foreign fields
Skylarks sing and blood-red poppies grow
But now the only harvest here
Is pain and death and sorrow

We lost some men but gained some ground
In a dawn attack
By sunset we had lost some more
When they took it back

All night we listened to the wounded groan
Out in no man's land alone
God in heaven make it stop
All we want is home
--------------------------------------------------

Been reading the 1st World War poetry of Siegfried Sassoon
 Mar 2014 JA Doetsch
Raphael Uzor
She wins...
She always does

After a long busy stay
From missing her all day
I go home to her
And she's there, she's always there,
Patient, soothing and tender
Luring me to bed...
As I fight her charms,
Trying to stay up; workaholic impulse raging!

I win...
For a moment or so

Daring to focus
For a couple more hours
Desperate not to give in
At least not without a fight.
She peeks out from our bedroom
Sneaking up from behind,
As I snooze momentarily
But I can't win this fight, there's no use trying!

Accepting defeat, I embrace her
Letting her caress me

She entraps me all night
I'm lost, against my will
I know I'll wake up guilty,
Wishing I could send her away
But I'm stuck with her for life
And she takes so much of my time
Time I could use for work
But no, she won't let go; not when I always yield!

And no, she's not my wife
She's not even my girlfriend
Not some girl from across the street
Just a nobody, named Sleep!


© Raphael Uzor
What were you thinking?
 Mar 2014 JA Doetsch
RSV
Life
 Mar 2014 JA Doetsch
RSV
Laughter, giggles, smiles.
Tears, heartbreaks, pains.
Success, failures, mistakes.
Loves, bodies, unions, partings.
Births, deaths.
Life keeps moving on,
even when we don't.
Time ceases, moments stop...life goes on.
Life got to do, what it got to do!
It begins, of course, in the Spring.
The evenings grow lighter
The air sweeter
and all the world is filled
With sweet optimism.

It continues through
the long hot summer
Humid evenings
and long hot afternoons.
It is a marathon
not a sprint.
Only one team each year
wins the ultimate game

It leaves us in the Fall
as Winter’s first foul
Imprecations
chill us to the marrow.
Days darken
and the sun seems absent.

It is both a faith and
a fixation.
Even in winter’s depths
It speaks to us of spring
and the hope
of redemption.

Unless you happen to root for the Mets...
 Mar 2014 JA Doetsch
Raphael Uzor
"Don't!"
I reached...
"Hot!!"
I touched...
...fire became less attractive!!!
10w
The strange attraction of babies to fire!
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