Through silky darkness, with
Whispers of twilight tearing at
The fringes of a forsaken veil.
I kneeled before the crown,
With tainted adoration.

For once, I fought between the bleed.
Betraying the rot of time against flesh.
Drawn to a broken throne of dead gold.
Eyes awoken to the fabric of her majesty.

A curved sword, a jagged dagger,
Quick to slip, slit and seep.
Armed assassin, of her corrupted right hand.
The pleasure, mine for the taking.

Dearest Queen, sing of death most damning,
I'll abide, leaving none standing.
Drift onwards, lightless legions,
Abandon hope and all your reason.

It was a hot summer Georgia morning.
The fresh smell of pine
The sounds of marching solders
Reveille played over the loud speakers

As cooks, we started our day early
Everything seemed normal
Normal for Army life, that is
Life that I got used to

I put on my uniform
Polished my boots
Walked over to the dining facility
Expecting to fail inspection, again

"Report to HHC Immediately!"
24th Infantry Division (mechanized)
"First to Fight"
This was serious

What was going on?
Confusion afoot
Kuwait was ambushed
Sadam must be stopped

We marched over to the gymnasium
There were stations set up
Line up for innoculations
Fill out your Last Will and Testament

March over to the barraks
Pack up your gear
Only what you can carry
Sneak in some comfort items

What about the rest of my stuff?
Someone will look after it
Don't worry, it's safe
Soldiers are a bunch of thieves

March over to the National Guard barraks
They look like the did in WWII
50 double bunks in a row
they smelled moldy

This was our new home
until further notice
I haven't slept
in 48 hours

No communication
to your family or firends
I snuck out
to the pay phone

Not sure what to say
other than don't worry
I love you
goodbye

I am one of
the first one hundred
soldiers to depart
Single, no close family

We board the ship
It is massive!
USNS Capella (T-AKR 293)
In the Savannah Harbour

Tanks, helecopters
Trucks, supplies
One hundred ARMY soldiers
Ready to disembark

We stand along port side
at parade rest
A tear rolls
Down my face

Thousands of civilians
Waving flags
Cheers of goodbyes
Crying children and wives

The ship leaves port
slowly pulls away
the cheers fade
into the ocean depths

First day afloat
The ship rocks slowly
Hard to get used to
Motion Sickness kicks in

I worked in the galley
T-Ration for breakfast
MRE for lunch
T-Ration for dinner

I ate with the Marines
A-Ration meals
Privilege of being
a Food Service Specialist

Trash accumulated
Throw it overboard
Alongside the bow
Death to the oceans

Many days pass
I read a book
Hyperion (Dan Simmons)
The only book I had

I sit on the deck
the sea in all directions
mystifies the soul
we are alone

I wake up to discover
Another ship next to us
USNS American Explorer
(T-AOT-165) Refueling ship

We reach the Suez Canal
Egypt looks beautiful
To the east: lush greenscape
to the west: barren wasteland

Egyptian Militants
watching intensely
along the shoreline
they saw my camera

Merchants come aboard
"Good deals for you,
American G. I."
I bought some batteries

I get to phone home
satellite communication
ten dollars a minute
worth every penny

We reach our destination
Twelve day journey ended
time to unload
organized chaos

All hands on deck
mechanized disembark
crash course
on driving a tank

Transported to my unit
in the tent city
they got there first
flown by commercial airliner

time to roll out
loaded my gear
WRONG TRUCK!
Ruck sack gone forever

Lost my walkman
lost my camera
lost my book
was in the ruck sack

to be continued.........

The Monster With Blue Hair
Jeers as I cower in the corner
But she’s coming
He’s won
I’m done
The Other will be happy
They’ll be fine and dandy
But she’s coming
And she has her Blue Shield
And a Sword forged for intense war
War on a Blue Field
The Monster With Blue Hair
Will die
Someday
Like His wicked brother of Red
She’s here now
He’s fled
She saved me
Now it’s time for bed

I write to clear my head.
I write the sad thoughts I think in bed.

I try to release my feelings on paper, using ink, wielding a pen as a sword,
To slash the pain I feel inside with every word.

I use it as a shield against the raging attack of depression.
It takes a lot to make even that small confession.

The ache in my head recedes as if the ink is on the small table pen is taking the pain out of my fingertips, flowing on to paper, that I use as a shield.
I look at the paper, that holds the words I use to protect myself against the evil that is pain, I smile at my new poem to wield.