#neverforgotten
“15000 Miles Between Heartbeats”
***
You missed my ship—
I shout into the distance,
half anger, half ache.
I’m already on my way,
and you don’t even know it.
The horn fades
into a thinning shore,
and I carry myself
fifteen hundred miles
toward something
I cannot yet name.
Tomorrow—
war.
Battles waiting
just beyond sleep.
Silence stretches wide,
too wide
for men meant to fill it.
My thoughts drift—
home,
where hearts sit warm
and untouched.
But here we stand,
shoulder to shoulder,
steady…
or pretending to be.
Night breaks open—
fire in the sky,
thunder tearing through bone.
Fear climbs quietly,
finding every gap
we try to seal.
Bravery—
a mask we wear well.
Because the truth?
The horror is loud,
sharp,
unforgettable.
Then morning comes—
as if nothing happened.
The storm loosens its grip,
and the sea remembers
how to breathe again.
Laughter returns,
fragile at first,
like it’s asking permission.
Still—
fifteen thousand miles from home,
and somehow
love reaches us.
I sail back—
toward familiar shores,
toward names I know.
But something stays behind.
Grief travels with me,
quiet,
unpacked.
Too many
do not return.
Their journey ends
where ours continues.
And maybe—
that is their peace.
Rows of coffins.
Flags draped low.
A bugle cries
soft enough
to break you.
And the questions—
they don’t leave.
What did they give?
What did they lose?
And who decides
what it was worth?
I still ask that question—
Old photos in my hands,
faces that never made it home.
And still…
I ask—why?
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 5:09 AM UTC
“The Ninety-Nine Remembered”
***
In the quiet of Ver-sur-Mer’s embrace,
Where waves whisper tales of valour and grace,
Ninety-nine names, once lost in the mist,
Now rise to the roll—no longer dismissed.
On Gold Beach’s edge, where history was sown,
They stand with their comrades, the known and unknown;
From blood-soaked sands their courage still calls,
Each name now remembered on honour’s proud walls.
Through darkness and storm, through fire and fear,
They gave all they had so others stand here;
A tribute to those who fate could not spare,
Their stories now carried on Normandy’s air.
Now families walk where their loved ones are named,
No longer forgotten, no longer unnamed;
With flowers and whispers, with pride and with tears,
They honour their memory across the years.
A memorial standing in silence and light,
We hold to your legacy, steadfast and bright;
Your names shall endure, your sacrifice true—
Forever remembered. We stand here for you.
Apr 19
Apr 19, 2026 at 3:34 AM UTC
I didn’t get to say goodbye.
No last words.
No final look.
No hand to hold while the world shifted.
Just silence —
where a voice used to be.
There is a particular kind of ache
for those of us
who were not there.
It isn’t loud at first.
It’s a slow burn.
A question that never fully sleeps:
Did they know?
Did they feel how much I loved them?
Did they leave thinking I’d let go?
But love like ours
was never built on endings.
It was built in ordinary moments.
In kitchens without much.
In rooms that felt safe
because they were in them.
Some people are foundations.
They don’t need wealth.
They don’t need noise.
They hold everything together
with instinct and steady hands.
They see storms before they form.
They read hearts before they speak.
They protect without announcing it.
And if anyone could read you —
really read you —
it was them.
So hear this,
whoever you are reading this:
If your love was real,
they knew.
They knew in the way you softened near them.
In the way you trusted them.
In the way your guard fell without you noticing.
Love that deep
does not depend
on one final moment.
The goodbye you didn’t get
does not erase
the lifetime
you shared.
Grief will tell you otherwise.
Grief is cruel like that.
It will whisper that you failed.
That you should have been there.
That you missed something sacred.
But love does not measure itself
by hospital rooms
or last breaths.
It measures itself
by the years of safety,
by the quiet understanding,
by the way they became part of who you are.
Look at yourself.
The steadiness you carry now —
that came from them.
The way you sense when something isn’t right —
that came from them.
The way you hold people together
even when you’re breaking —
that came from them.
They did not leave you empty.
They left you equipped.
And on the nights
when the ache is sharpest,
when you replay the ending
you weren’t allowed to witness —
Look behind you.
If in the hardest parts of your life
you only see one set of footprints,
it is not because you were abandoned.
It is because
the one who once held everything together
is still steadying your steps.
You did not get the goodbye.
But you got the love.
And love like that
does not miss doorways.
It finds you.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 6:56 AM UTC
it’s hard
not to feel
withdrawn
when the ones
you love
have crossed
to the other
side.
they’re
never gone,
but it feels
so wrong—
like a song
out of tempo,
out of place.
and you know
nothing can
bring them back,
but still
you do your best
to stay strong.
because life
never stops,
and the ones
you’ve lost
are never
gone.
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 8:36 AM UTC
Mom… I still can’t believe that you’re gone. As I sit in my office chair and stare.. I can’t even express my pain, I don’t even know where to begin. Everything feels so within – yes I know it was your time to spread your wings and fly; but yet at night I lay in bed and I cry & I find it so hard to breath, wishing I could stand up tall through this all.
This world is just not enough, I still feel so empty and lost… Your presence is no longer by myside – all I feel is summer wind blowing through my life.
I can still picture the day you left me & the sound of your last breath – a day that will forever live within me. You left so peaceful, I can still feel the smoothness of your fingertips.. Oh Mom… I can feel your last kisses.
As I walk, everywhere I go I still talk to you when I’m walking in the road. I might look like a fool but I know you up there listening to every word I say without a stutter in my mutter.
There is so much more that I’m longing to say but I think I’m going to leave that for another day. With tears in my eyes I long for you my darling Mother that was always by my side.
My darling Mother❤️
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
Red is for roses,
love,
hearts,
blood,
and ruby.
This poem is for my grandmother, Ruby.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
In eighty four,
when I was eighteen.
I joined the Navy,
so proud and so lean.
First day aboard,
my ship I laid footed.
An accident happened,
this guy was beheaded.
I witnessed it all,
a faint scream, now gone.
Blood everywhere,
I was shocked in stone.
Life is but different,
floating on the sea.
But darkness still lurks,
coming out of the deep.
They called it traditions,
it brought back my past.
The name callings, the torture,
How long will it last?
Hours turns days,
days into years.
Counting my time,
holding back tears.
We had risen the Shield,
another accident happened,
lost twenty one shipmates,
Never forgotten.
At one in the 'morn,
the ferry went down.
In the Bay of Haifa,
twenty one did drown.
They finally came home,
in a flag draped box,
Hearing taps on corner,
Home but not lost.
My demons continue,
to many deaf ear,
bring sadness and sorrow,
bring heartache and tears
One final vision,
that I can not erase.
my friend screamed horror
and the look on his face
The wheel of an aircraft,
rolled over his femur,
crushing and smashing,
Lost in a fever.
Blood and bones,
I'll never forget.
His piercing screams,
still gets me upset.
Twenty long years,
I lived on the sea.
Lost many great men
and their pain is still with me.
Onto my next step,
But what do I do?
These demons keep chasing me,
Can I **** them off too?
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC