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Brodie Corrigan Oct 2014
You ever stop and think that this place use to be beautiful
the plants,animals and landscape
I heard from my buddies that this was the place to visit
although i didn't plan on visiting in a uniform holding a rifle
I've seen the postcards of this place and man,
it was gorgeous
it was before the colonization
the expansion
the industrialization
the pollution
conflict
invasion
war.
I wanted to come here to glide over the mountains
not doing CAP in an BlackHawk
I wanted to relax by the ocean
not doing swimming drills at 5AM
I wanted to go on safaris
Not patrols.
Mmmhmm
Well, you know what they say,
You don't get everything you wan
There once was a man in Arvada
Who'd come all the way from Nevada
Wanted out of Vegas
Crook came to plague us
To Blackhawk for the whole enchilada

This chap had a thousand in his jeans
Like a cheap skate played nickel machines
He then put five cents in
Pulled bar back with a win
Cashed in, stuffed pockets bulging at seams

This gent was now sky high about life
Didn't care, left nine kids and a wife
Took chair to play Blackjack
Got chips, greased his hair back
The dealer sensed this fellow meant strife

The guy played, won, his streak unmarred
Counting Aces, kings, Queens, Jacks - every card
He raised some suspicion
From the owners position
They'd seen this before and come down hard

They escorted the cad out, such a pity
Got caught again, thought he was witty
So he drove far away
To the New Jersey bay
Was so close to Atlantic City
onlylovepoetry Jan 2017
losing you and it's effortless
redefining short and sweet,
a whiskey neat,
eight years, much shorter than the forever,
everyone's grand assumption feast,
wrongly assumed, love consumed,
making ***** of her and me
for believing,
and looking now,
as if it's almost
our own closing time,
the hour of our
just desserts

you lose yourself, asking yourself,
can a three legged stools
with two busted legs be
just merely rocky,
without another hand on the tiller~shoulder,
something

with haunting visions
of falling, failing, flailing,
down the stairs
victim of a stoning, or just ******,
gravity, the Blackhawk down,
the string puller, the no-reason reason

the slow descent,
so effortless, glassine smooth at first,
barely noticed, shrugged away like a small bruise,
then you cannot help to stop and forgive the incessant
wondering of how we got,
the confusion contusions,
now body bejeweled resplendent,
everywhere, in everything

you were once
a rock, a star,
with all the answers to the questions
she was about to ask,
your arm punched,
attached to an affectionate smiling,
for the perfection of our mutuality of
knowing

was her rock,
and now, quietly,
this last piece of jewelry consists of
a necklace of stones,
a choker of
glass pebbles in both our mouths

wry cry
realizing that the
darkness cracks of
busted and rusted,
are voluminous surround sound silences
breaking up,

either side of

*us
Ellis Reyes  Feb 2020
Autorotate
Ellis Reyes Feb 2020
Turning
Burning
Learning
Yearning
Blackhawk turning, HIT, cockpit burning
Troops learning of war, yearning for home
Continuing to experiment with poetic forms. My first in a series of Tyburns.
Ellis Reyes  Apr 2020
The Flight
Ellis Reyes Apr 2020
LA to Tel Aviv - 13 hours 45 minutes

Boarding: Why did I have to bring Avi’s Bar Mitzvah presents? It’s not fair.

Hour 1: I have no leg room and have to squeeze by two strangers to use the restroom. When will food be served?

Hour 2: What? No food, only a tiny bag of pretzels; mom the discount flyer strikes again.

Hour 3: Ok, settling in with my iPad. Rewatching “Stranger Things”

Hour 4: The lady next to me asked if I could watch something different. Apparently she finds “Stranger Things” disturbing.

Hour 5: The lady complained to the flight attendant. She found “Blackhawk Down” more disturbing than “Stranger Things”.

Hour 6: I get into the overhead bin and take out the bag of American candy that I was going to give to Avi. I’ll repackage what’s left into a Ziplock- he’ll be fine.

Hour 7: ***, WTH??? The woman dozed off and has the worst gas- I CAN’T BREATHE!!!

Hour 8: I motion to my sister to trade seats. She flips me off behind her iPad (so that Mom can’t see) and smiles.

Hour 9: Drink service, “Yes I’ll have a double ***** martini.”
“Sorry, you’re twelve.”

Hour 10: I take out a Sharpie and begin a game. I look up “Help Me” on my language app and write it in 26 languages in the in-flight magazine.

Hour 11: The pilot said that Turkey is below us. Are we still allies?

Hour 12: The bag of candy is nearly empty. I feel sick.

Hour 13: I spent the last 45 minutes apologizing to the lady for throwing up on her.

Hour 13:45: Finally here. Let the party begin.

— The End —