If your happy hide it,
Like a rabbit from the hawk,
Smiling as you confide it,
On taloned stilts on a friendly walk,
Smile when they smile,
But don't let them take you far from home,
The vulture will self pity,
If he can't swallow an entire bone,
Don't let them guilt you,
That they and you are in league,
Don't let them blind you,
With a shining sea,
For that purpose,
The osprey's eyes have dark streaks,
But smile truly,
For the city above the pines,
That forms in the mist,
In the calm cool summer night,
Where every citizen is king,
And queen,
As it ever sparkles before the dawn,
Like many fireflies, with no dragonflies to prey upon.

-- Keith Joseph Collard
Godbless

Under the Georgian pines,
Outside a Georgian fort,
We throw our bayonets to make them stick,
Like the Downy Woodpecker on her course,
We also bayonet our feet,
And slice off blistered skin,
We hear the Tufted Titmouse peep,
Whenever we begin,
A Pewee grabs a fly,
Where those apical trunks column above,
As we stand in the chowline,
And pick the ticks off the men in front,
We can no longer smell,
Thank God,
And blend in with the clay,
If a scented woman came by,
We would worship her like the Yellow Warbler,
In this shadow glade,
Oh how we long for something sweet,
Taunted by the liquorice of Nuthatch and Chickadee,
For all our ****** meals are doused,
With the ****** juice of beats,
Now all night under the pines,
I know the Saw-Whet does not screech,
It sounds like an alarm,
Beckoning the Georgian heat,
And from on high those eyes,
Laughing at the night vision we have made,
As we stumble into our latrine,
That we didn't cover with the *****,
Oh how we miss some music,
As we endlessly gather,
We swoon all day from heatstroke,
And our gloomy cadence is mimicked by the Thrasher,
Under the Georgian yellow pines,
In the setting reddish glow,
From the color of her blue sky,
And the clay around her blue throat,
Walks a fellow Bluebird,
In official infantry color we now know.

I missed a spot shaving,
So I had to shave my head,
Blake failed the tape again,
A diet of insults everywhere he went,
Shelley didnt shine his boots,
Off to the mud was led,
Byron was late,
So they gave him a fifty pound concrete  watch instead.
First squad in the front,
Is always squared away,
In front of them is the platoon leader ,
who talks of " his sacred duty,"
All the frigging day,
I'm in third squad, with weapons squad to my rear,
They always smell of minty tobacco,
With a hint of beer,
They always win worst uniform,
And Today it's Poe who wears the badge,
1st squad threw his cap in the dumpster,
And he's swimming in the trash.

Now they have changed the regs,
But only if your dog tags say,
If you like turbins or small hats,
Instead of black berets,
" later suckah" says my squad member Frost,
Before he boards his plane,
They all take religious leave on Maui,
Where they drink and smoke all day,
Now we have girls in our formation,
Previously we had none,
Now Tennyson in 2nd can go goth with eyeliner,
And Keats can grow his hair in a viking bun,
The P.L keeps talking of his sacred duty,
As weapons squad vomits up the chow hall lunch.
Then one day we have a new PL
She only calls us numbers,
And rotates us like a clock,
All family and  religious leave,
She dutifully put a stop,
Said no one can marry,
And for the greater good we are a part,
She had the apes in first squad,
Inspect our barracks room,
And took down all illicit art,
In it's place she put up posters,
Of the President, or Chief of Staff?
But when she took the *****,
Poe took that very hard,
So he shot the posters through,
With his bar room darts,
She found Keat's ***** pump,
In the ceiling tiles with ***** tapes,
We were starting not to fear the muscle,
Of her 1st squad recon apes,
Then spoke Byron,
Still dragging his heavy block,
"My team- mates, we must fight,
Or they will never stop,
They are making me write an essay,
On the Farah Fawcett poster I bought."
So we started to act,
Like a shining brand new clock,
But assembled on a Saturday night,
by a drunken ******, at the navy docks,
When they said turn left,
We turned right,
Sing this, we sang that,
We whispered as the bishop,
And weapons squad farted as the rook,
We harranged first squad,
For all our property they took,
And they did smoke us,
Like fat and skinny fish,
Push ups and low crawls,
But our formation was tight knit,
Then, it was them, who caved,
religious and family leave was saved,
And much to their dismay,
We drank and smoked for the lesser part of the day.

Man not the less, but nature more,
Saithe not the lowly but a lord^,
And I not at all, and nature only,
Rather clutchest thorn of poison forb,
Then remain on path, and remain lonely,
And rather their canine tooth to absorb,
Prefer to stroll through ticks and toxin of
     hemlock forest,
And only the rat snake's diamonds I consider flawless,
Then their brownstones filled with horror,
Even the grey she wolf looks in scorn,
And with all creation wish their cities unborn,
Their mighty towers that mirror sky,
Only the lightning can afford,
Or the golden eagle flying by,
So let them mirror storm,
For their rallies are like rats under a hovering rough legged hawk,
Provoking much,
Or the swift^lawyer lecturing the rocks he stands atop,
Carving them away, until they split and gush,
Write a script, to heal thyself,
Better yet write a script for those you hurt,
Better to be a black bear licking your own wounds of dirt at least,
Than to listen to honking well fed geese,
And why do you boast on high, just because you can?
Look to the blue hills,
They will remain and you will never be again.

To think, this was once glacial till,
A million sabbaths to cure this ill.

Dearest, a fire warning just came out,
And the hills have columns of clouds,
The breeze does slightly sparkle,
And the curtains do twist in pain
Like before a thunderstorm with only lightning and no rain.
The pendants dim to nothing,
No matter that fluorescence,
Cause your neighbors shed is aflame,
It illuminates the odd decor,
But it is slightly not the same.
Especially the paintings on the wall,
The wind now is streaking,
And there is nobody to call,
The dry fronds light aloft, and send out to the brush,
In turn they send to more,
Stroking more exhaust,
The ambience inside flows and moltens,
And lightens up the paintings,
As if now the meaning is open,
And have been long in waiting.
The wind outside now streaks,
To a burning blur,
The rabbit in the yard, runs in circles,
From the fire in her fur,
How can this be, a painting of a future fever dream?
Activated by the wind,
That streaks so emberly,
And what is this, a man in a valley with skis,
Wrapped head to toe,
As the sunset burns the trees,
And he coughs on snow,
Now a man with a bycicyle,
Next to an unsaddled horse,
Who now looks in haste,
The mare frightened by reports,
This! a drink on the patio with my dearest  love,
At once it looks,
As if Im reclined and they eulogize from above,
Now a man trudging in a blizzard,
And disappearing so,
It's time,  it's time to go,

Looking at the street's burning palms,
Now so intensely a'glow,
The streaking, ever increasing embers,
Canvassing the soul.

Kevlar plates much lead,
  Night vision sharks,
And a ladder to ascend,
The raft pulls on a cargo ship,
The night sea rips a hand away,
In the flash-lit night sea spray,
The prowler finishes what it begun,
He disappears grasping bottom rung,
And not satisfied with only one,
His helper sinks forever to the ocean bed,
With much kevlar, and Navy lead.

                            *
Three stare at a tidal pool,
A sighing then dying foamy gown,
Two in thongs,
That the foamy dress wants to wrap around,
Like champagne off the rocks,
The sea toasts aloft,
He let's her jump in,
Why not they are quite fit?
Tho the surging waves beg to differ,
They press, dress, and grip her,
Finally locking her in it's awful room,
To his credit he jumps in,
The pool lowers,
Revealing him on a rock trying to cling,
They disappear forever with her hand in his.

                            *
A cruise ship in Bahama green blue,
If there parents only knew,
That blacktips love their children more,
When pushed off from shore,
Much drink, much youthful pride,
Scheming hearts when it's girls and guys,
Someone takes up a night time dare,
Being followed unaware,
A splash and the night green blue,
" Bye Bye"
Forever separated from party in view,
Then gliding forms, like ghosts,
Almost spectral,
Tries to swim back, disappears,
trying to board a vessel.
                 *
85 on a winters day,
With a price in Waimea Bay,
The surfers are out there,
So it's safe?,
Surfers are ****** brave!
Only up to knees,
girls stay on the beach,
Every six foot wave,
the surfer takes,
Crashes 30 feet high shore break,
A separated shoulder,
A crowd and"no swimming" tape
out of breath from sets of 5,
Once shallow,
Now a chasm to the other side,
lay behind,  float way out,
want to die without a shout,
No father on earth,
and no brethren beyond the tape,
Without love without hate,
Then something in the water,
something spectral,
" Hey bra ya alright?"
A pyscho surfer aboard his vessel.

Chica Baca laca maca....et cetera,
Where the lady sunfish are gold,
And  are truth tellers,
And the chain pickerals are bold,
And truth be told,
Those chains could not hold,
For Chaca Baca laca maca... whatever,
As Lake Unabash is known,
Was more humble when it was cold.

Baca daca lacka Baca Goo,
In the native or Lake Unabash will do,
The green male sunfish had electric gills,
Like neon lightning went up through,
But now wear a pumpkinseed coat,
So fall color is always new,
And the lady bass jump in the boat,
To tell the skipper where to go.

Shooka booka lacha nooka....
Or just Lake Trudeau,
The old catfish still fly their whiskers,
But only at night in bubble whispers,
For all the show is during day,
When a mother musky eats a duckling on its way,
Then to a fisherman turns to say,
I am a truth teller,
And you men have had your time!

Chaka ooka alla moola,
Or just Lake ****** truth be told,
Was more humble when it was cold,
Now the water recedes the lake,
And with summer lasting later,
"Hey how ya doing" from a stranger,"
And now new to Lake Annoy,
The alligator fills the void.