"convoy" poems
Canned latte, water, fruit punch Rip-It
Gulp it, down it, chug it, sip it
In the gunner's sling, sway side to side
240B in the cradle, M4 right side
Talk of ***
Talk of food
It's all allowed
Nothing's too crude
Sometimes you talk
Sometimes you listen
Don't talk later 'bout what's said on mission
Check alleyways, balconies, traffic, rooftops
At five miles-an-hour, this convoy never stops
Red Bull, Gatorade, citrus Rip-It
Gulp it, down it, chug it, sip it
In the gunner's sling, sway side to side
240B in the cradle, shotgun left side
In the distance, flashes of white light
Watch them bloom throughout the green night
Was it dust lightning? Was it a bomb?
Don't matter to us, this mission carries on
Two hours to dawn, eight hours 'til we're done
Check balconies, traffic, alleyways, rooftops
At five miles-an-hour, this convoy never stops
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
there was no way I could sleep last night
traffic kept me awake all throughout the night
trucks trundled down my street in an endless convoy
they had no consideration for the noise they did employ
I finally got to sleep at ten past four
as the trucks ceased rolling past my door
this afternoon I shall catch a few winks of sleep
I shall curl up on the lounge and count sheep
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
My Estranged Dear
Why couldn't we piecemeal the past
The pieces that crashed
Over dinner and a cup of joe
Over the branches that glow
Why did the leaves fall from their limbs
Before the Autumn hymns
Before their time
Our days lost in chime
Why do two hearts sever alone
Confetti tomorrows falling to stone
Why my estranged dear do you dread
A benevolence served over broken bread
A posse of good nature willed
In fall of olive branches milled
To my estranged dears
Collectively over the years
I sat in front of the mirror
Farther away than nearer
Pondering the same sad old song
Of where golden went wrong
Was it being on the ruler of the river
With no catches to deliver
Being next to our campfire
Small flames freezing your heart's desire
Was the heat of the night
Dancing in plight
Were the words I spoke
Just a convoy of smoke
Was it sleeping in the restless tent
Your pent up passion spent
On black bears in others, you see
And not in me
To my estranged dears
My eyes were blind to your fears
I admit with regret
And knowingly I know my debt
Yet I can only wander on the past
In hopes that an ember is cast
A ruler I was not
Though vetted by such for naught
Logan Robertson
8/11/2018
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
We're out at a bar splitting a good night of cheers
Drinks and laughter flowing among peers
Double shots dance around the table
Tonight's the moment, tomorrow's a fable
We garnish the laughter with Halloween
What's your costume, how do you swing
A chorus of "I'll dress up as a cowboy"
Is met by a few rolling eyes, "I'll address their convoy"
Not to be excluded is the gay guy in back that chimes in
And competes with the rolling eyes, cowboys are mine
Laughter of reveries spills faster than the drinks
A 80's song, When Doves Cry, continues to play over the links
A women crashes the party and exhorts the group
Come on guys put your wings on, fly the coup
Halloween's around the corner, make a splash, make waves
Find your muse with a costume that stands up, and raves
Look out to the horizon, the rarefied air, and trick for treats
Find my tunnel of love with a costume that beats
After a pause, a coy smile surface on rolling eye's lip
Oh Melville come with me, come with me, and take a dip
Double shots dance around the table
Logan Robertson
10/19/17
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
I'm twenty seven years old
Not, old by any standard
But, in my world...I'm seven
Seven years removed from an IED
Seven years away from the day that changed me
Seven years into my new life
We were on a routine mission
If you can call anything in Khandahar
routine
Convoy escort, some press folks
A country singer and his band
And us....always us
We were Military Police
Bringing 'em in, taking 'em home
there we were,
Same trip, same road
same barren landscape
same potholes
same, same, same
Until November 4th, 2005
Nothing has been the same since then
I'm a Sargeant, Military Police
William Blankenship
Fort Hood, Texas...just a kid...until
We were on Operation Squire
routine....all routine
The first humvee hit an IED
flipped right in front of us
the bus of civilians, stopped
radio chatter like mad
Rocket fire took out the Stryker LAV
Blew it to bits
No survivors
We were pinned down
We didn't return fire
Couldn't....didn't know where to
And had to get the civilians to safety
We were only 2 miles from base
LAVs were on the road immediately
I don't remember much about it
Just, that it was routine
Started with the headaches
took about a month
Then, the nightmares
Sent me back home to get over it
To a Veterans Hospital in Texas
Still saw the humvee flip
Heard the screams
Saw the fire, and watched the explosion behind
And I wasn't sleeping anymore
Couldn't handle bright lights for a time
Still can't, but not as bad
Doctors said it was PTSD
I said, "you think?"
What else could it be
Two years they kept me in there
Two years I saw them die
Then...they hooked me up with a service dog
New program they said
He'd keep me relaxed
I couldn't take care of myself
And now, they want me to have a dog
I said, I'd try it...but no guarantees
Said his name was Squire
funny....I knew that name from somewhere
But, couldn't remember where
Big, oafish, Newf he was
Like a small fridge with hair
And big, brown eyes
Squire....
First day he just sat and looked at me
Waited until I started to move
And he moved with me
Came over, and pushed his head under my hand
It's been that way ever since
I move, he moves
I eat, he eats three times as much
We bonded pretty quick
I still get the dreams,
but, Squire knows and he's there
Under my hand, calming me down
That's all he does, calms me down
He doesn't take away the dreams
But, he helps
I don't know how
But, he helps
They still die, and I still scream
But, not as often
Just routine....
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
It ain’t too bad to be from there
Just ask my family and friends
But it’s too flat, ain’t no way out
The roads are all dead ends.
Sometime soon I’ll find a place
Where the music I’ll enjoy
But for now I keep on tryin’
To escape from Illinois!
There’s a river on the border west
That moves a lot of dirt
Mighty Muddy Mississipp
Drowns the pain and covers hurt
Yeah, I’m movin’ south to New Orleans
Maybe I can find employ
In a blues bar down on Bourbon Street
Escape from Illinois!
Well I stopped a week along the way
When I saw the Gateway Arch.
But the folks out by the airport
Were stagin’ up a march.
Seems a white cop fired a shot that killed
An unarmed teenage boy
Oh yeah, the teenage boy was black,
Escape from Illinois.
Kept walkin’ to the Landing
(Named for Pierre Laclede)
It has most every thing you want
But nothing that you need
Some travelin’ folk told me some news
That made me jump for joy
Memphis maybe had some work
Escape from Illinois!
Found the haunted house called Graceland
And the grave where Elvis lay
Where half a million go each year
(Fifteen thousand every day)
They all want to pay respects
To the rockin’ – rollin’ boy
Put their finger in the bullet holes
Escape from Illinois.
Went downtown, knocked on some doors
Once or twice I went inside
But Beale Street was broken
The travelin’ folks had lied.
‘Cuz there ain’t no jobs in Memphis,
Or maybe I’m too coy
So I hitched a ride to Nashville
Escape from Illinois.
Nashville’s a big old meltin’ ***
Lots of great ones started here
But most end up as tourists
Getting’ ****** and drinkin’ beer
So money’s at a premium
And fame’s a fake decoy
End up workin’ in a record store
Escape from Illinois?
From Asheville to Atlanta
From Austin to LA
From Biloxi back to Baton Rouge
Need a place where I can play
I’ll follow all the buskers,
Form a musical convoy
Livin’ day by day and town by town
Escape from Illinois!
I’m a minstrel, like a rubber band
I keep on snappin’ back
I’m gonna make it somewhere
Singing somewhere, that’s a fact
Got my guitar and my music
Gotta do what I enjoy
Find a place to sing my songs for you,
Hell, it may be Illinois!
Phil Lindsey 6/4/15
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
HAPPY HAPPY FELLA, HAPPY HAPPY TOO
I AM THE HAPPIEST DUDE AROUND
I PROVIDE FUN FOR ME AND YOU
I AM ******** TO BE A ***** CAUSE I HATE FIGHTING AT THE BAR
I REMEMBER WAY BACK WHEN I SAID, I AM NOT INTO DRIVING CARS
THESE OLD MATES SAID TO ME, I AM NOT A COOL KID ANYWAY
BUT I STILL GO OUT AND ENJOY MYSELF, YEAH YEAH YIPPEE I AY
I AM HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY, HAPPY ALL THE DAY
I AM THE ONLY COOL KID IN TOWN, YEAH, I AM A HAPPY DUDE ANYWAY
OH HAPPY. BOY AM I SO HAPPY, OH HAPPY, HAPPY ALL THE DAY
ME AND MY MATE, WE ARE WALKING AROUND LOOKING HAPPY
ME AND MY MATE, ARE HAPPY ALL THE DAY
OH HAPPY, I AM VERY HAPPY, OH HAPPY THE HAPPIEST DUDE IN TOWN
HA HA HA YOU AND ME, I AM THE THE PRINCE OF EVERYONE WHO IS HAPP HAPP HAPPY
I PLAY WITH MY IDEAS, FOR CREATIVITY, DUDES
I CAN EAT A AWFUL LOT OF FOOD
OH HAPPY, I AM ALL VERY HAPPY, OH HAPPY I AM HAPPY ALL THE DAY
ME AND MY BROTHER, ARE SPREADING THE WORD OF BEING HAPPY
ME AND MY BROTHER ARE HAPPY ALL THE DAY
I AM HAPPY, VERY VERY HAPPY
I AM HAPPY, RIGHT INTO THE DAY
BUDDHA WANTS ME, TO BE VERY HAPPY
BUDDHA WANTS ME TO BE HAPPY EVERY DAY
OH HAPPY, YEAH DUDE I’M HAPPY, OH HAPPY, CARN DUDES, MAKE ME HAPPY HAPPY HAY
ME AND MY DAD AREVERY VERY HAPPY
WE PARTY ON DUDES, WE’RE HAPPY ALL THE TIME
YA SEE I LOVE PARTYING, TO THE GREAT ANGRY ANDERSON
LAST SUNDAY AT CONVOY, I PARTY EVERY DAY
I AM HAPPY, VERY VERY HAPPY, I AM HAPPY, EVERY SINGLE DAY
ME AND MY MATE PAT ARE VERY VERY HAPPY, IN OUR LIVES WE DON’T **** ANYONE OFF
CAUSE WE’RE HAPPY, OH HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY, CAUSE WE’RE HAPPY
ALL INTO THE DAY
HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY DUDE, I AM HAPPY TO BE ALIVE YEAH MATE YEAH
HAPPY LIKE AN AUSSIE, AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE, OI OI OI
I AM A VERY HAPPY BOY, OH YEAH DUDES
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Mind worries as sun blazes
dwindling up water sources
held so close like precious treasure,
As earth spins, yearning for change!!
Soil waits in anticipation
Longing for monsoon’s gentle touch
and to hear stories from heavenly sky
gathered by collective clouds!!
Leaves stretch out their eager hands,
While roof tops become willing recipients
To embrace the raindrops
As convoy from the sky above!!
Mind dances as if on cloud nine
As celebration of renewal
Of dried-up life and leaves...
Waiting for the splash of rain
across every breeze in its way...
Of lone long walks with no barriers
between soul and heaven!!
Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024 at 7:33 AM UTC
Around a big glass table reflecting chandeliers
suits, oxford knotted ties, long tongues gathered
to move an anti-aircraft division across the western border
straddling two different opinions.
at dusk under the silk of darkness
the satellites zoomed in on the convoy
of green dressed camouflaged trucks,
Slinking down the back roads
under infra-red eyes six hundred kms
across the mountains
to take up new positions.
At dawn the satellites spoke to each other
and defied opinions made at the round table.
The longest tongue now hanging out
in sheer delight at operation well done, like steak!
Without discussion the satellites ordered the trucks
back to where they came from!
When the war began the anti-aircraft guns
were ready and waiting for the enemy
in the wrong location.
A flock of geese migrating from Canada to Kazakhstan
were met with missiles attracted by the metal tags
researchers had strapped around their ankles.
As the feathers settled into the waiting valley
two satellites in outer space
laughed at each others games
And switched off.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
Everyone is odium to empty space
Because,
It doesn't have anything to convoy!
Everyone is disgust about empty space
Because,
It doesn't have anything to perturb!
Everyone have repulsion to empty space
Because,
Everyone is dithering to talk with self!
But I am searching for that,
But
Incapable to mark out
The empty space
To talk with self!
Searching for empty space
For
Departing from everything
Searching for empty space
To
Verify my sin and accomplishment!
If you have any information
Please intimate me
With its boundary information and
Milestone of air, water, soil and life!
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
sing me a story
sing me a song
sing me old country
it's where I belong
so sing me a story
and I'll come along
sing me a story
an old country song
Are the lights still out in Georgia?
Is the man in black in jail?
How are things in old El Paso?
Sing a song and tell a tale
Did the devil win his fiddle?
How's the Harper Valley PTA?
Did they ever stop that convoy?
Is he loving her today?
sing me a story
sing me a song
sing me old country
it's where I belong
so sing me a story
and I'll come along
sing me a story
an old country song
Is there a red headed stranger?
What went off that bridge in June?
Did the gambler ever fold them?
What was howling at the moon?
Is Donna Fargo still that happy?
Do you smell whiskey in the air?
Is the circle still unbroken?
Is there an angel hiding there?
sing me a story
sing me a song
sing me old country
it's where I belong
so sing me a story
and I'll come along
sing me a story
an old country song
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
travelling caravan
this convoy
is not stopping soon
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 7:24 AM UTC
*
Since you illuminated my SOUL
Since your light pierced my being
Since our LOVE happened...
I am not eager for a journey
I do not desire a caravan
I do not yearn for a convoy
I do not belong here
I do not belong there
I do not fit in a family
I do not jell with friends
The only thing that excites me is "YOU"
BELOVEDZ, Belovedz, belovedz...
The blessing of LOVE within me
Desires "me" living in "YOU"
The reward of seeking inner soul
I desire to live in your being
If there is ever any cure
Of the good longing of my LOVE
It is nothing but merging within YOU
It is nothing but dying for YOU
That's how and why "Nature"
Presented YOU to my soul
The divine healer for my devil LOVE
Your eyes are medicine I drink
The same medicine poisons my heart
Becoming one with you is the only desire left
It is my honor - our LOVE HAPPENED
It will be a BIGGER honor
I annihilate in YOU and YOUR LOVE
I give my breathe in your LOVE
I give my heart, my body, my life in your LOVE
Though I've not decided to hold-on to your LOVE
There is no way I can let go of your LOVE
It's YOUR LOVE that beholds me and my being
YOUR LOVE is the final destination of my LIFE
YOUR LOVE was the thing Buddhists sought NIRVANA
Yes, this is what your LOVE is all about
Only those who LOVE
Will understand the plight of my LOVE
The sorrow, grief and misery of a LOVERz
The one who stands tormented
Without flinching in the "live-fire"
Will understand what it is to be in "LOVE"
My poem is for the flame - BELOVEDZ
My poem is for the moth - LOVERZ
No one else can even understand
The depth of these poetic words in LOVE
"The LOVE story of flame and moth"
*
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 10:49 PM UTC
The Italians dreamed of glory
Italian tacticians made many mistakes
The british surprised them on Dec. 9
British armor raced along the Libyan coast
Coastal towns had been turned into fortresses
They proved to be no match for the
Highly mobile British forces
One after another the towns fell to the British
The Italian army was trapped
By 1941 the British occupied the eastern half of Libya
Feb 12, 1941
Rommel took control of the Africa Corps
2 armored divisions
8000 men and 135 tanks
Plus the light infantry division
On April 1, the Germans
Mark III and Mark IV tanks
Outranged the British
The British were pushed back into Egypt
However one division remained in Tobruk
The infamous and stubborn rats of Tobruk
Tobruk held on at first
Barely enough food and water to stay alive
Tobruk was needed by the Germans
For their supply chain
Rommel said he would finish Tobruk for good
It fell on June 1 1942
Montgomery took control at El Alamein
Lend lease supplies came in
Axis shipping was badly damaged
By Allied air strikes
Oct 23, 1942
The British forces moved to the assembly areas
The First Battle of El Alamein began
The British halted the Axis forces from
Advancing into Egypt
Oct. 24, 1942
A vast troop convoy
Set sail from American ports
The next day, two convoys left Britain
El Alamein was the first great offensive
It coincided with the Battle of Stalingrad
And the Battle of Guadalcanal
The narrator said,
"El Alamein had been the end of the beginning.
For the Axis powers
It was now the beginning of the end."
Churchill said,
"It may almost be said, 'Before Alamein we never had a victory.
After Alemein we never had a defeat.'
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
They're setting up roadblocks,
And throwing down spike strips,
But I have a cargo that's gonna make it through!
Ain't hauling apples, chickens, or farm equipment.
I'm hauling one big honking load
Of energy and innovation.
Smokey's hot on my trail,
And he wants to" barbecue my *** in mollases"
But he ain't gonna stop me,
I'm gonna smash through those barricades.
I'm hauling a special load,
Full of wisdom and knowledge.
Passing car after car, campers and dump trucks,
But none are hauling half the load I got.
Intellectual assets weighing down my trailer,
I blow through the weigh stations.
Can't get anyone on the citizens band,
All I got is static.
So I keep on rolling down this lonesome road,
Hauling this heavy load.
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 7:02 PM UTC
This year we were not alone.
In convoy by car,
and now on a lower path,
past the ruined cottages
with their sagging brickwork
past redemption,
we had formed a line
hard on a hedged path
towards a distant wood.
And all the while a child,
a child we loved and cared for,
savaged anything in reach
with a pair of sticks.
As a delicate rain fell,
the aggressive shout
of wood on wood.
numbed the senses.
There seemed no end
to this wanton litany of
violence and aggressive hurt.
For an hour or more this child,
this child we loved and cared for,
had been denied the living world
of the backlit screen.
Was there really nothing worthy
of attention here? So dull and damp
and dreary were these empty fields,
this persistent woodland.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
A vehicle rumbled along a sorry excuse for a road,
A convoy trailing behind it
A soldier looked out his window
Watching the dust swirl up in clouds beneath the
Heavy vehicle's tires
He said nothing to his partner and they rode in silence
He, thinking of his perfect baby
Whom he had not yet gotten to feel the warmth of
In his arms
And his partner, he was sure
Had nothing but the image of his fiancée racing through his mind
She was all he ever talked about
They were close
As close as a pair of friends could possibly be
But rides were becoming increasingly more solemn
Unspoken yearning for home had become almost unbearable
These days the soldier missed home so much
And longed so badly for his wife's warm embrace
That he swore he could feel his heart aching
The solemn silence was broken as something caught the soldier's eye
"Stop!"
The convoy came to a halt
The soldier jumped from his vehicle
His boots making a hard thud on the ground below
He called to a group of Afghani children who had been
Collecting shell casings they would later exchange for food
In the middle of the convoy's path
The children looked up, alarmed
And scurried away
The rumble of the military vehicles again resounded
Through the desert
And the convoy continued on its way
Looking back
At the men in the strange uniforms
With the huge trucks,
A little Afghani girl
Caught a glimpse of the sunlight
Bouncing off of something
In the middle of the road
She rushed into the street to collect it
Thinking only of how pleased
Her mother would be
With all the money they would earn
From her painstaking hunt
The soldier saw the young girl
Dart into the path of the convoy
He shouted
And leapt from the vehicle
The girl looked up in terror
As she saw the big trucks
Getting closer
And closer
The soldier leapt into
The path
Of the oncoming sixteen-ton vehicle
Toppling the girl to the ground
As she sat up, out of the path of the convoy
Dusting her self off and
Trying to comprehend
What had just taken place
She looked into the road searching for her
Treasure
And saw it
Reflecting the desert sunlight
Just inches from the still form
Of the soldier
Who had just
Given her
His life
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
Youth who pelts stones at the convoy,
go get some drunk.
Dawdle up to a tavern.
Cozy up to the ladies.
Have some fun.
You feel great with the gun.
You want to die a martyr.
Yours is a dead cause.
Revolutions are past.
Revolutions don't work.
The baron you want out
is the hell back soon.
He's got the capital.
The dead die unsung.
Sloganeers rise
on ladders of the dead.
Youth who pelts stones at the convoy,
go get some drunk.
Fancy cars. Drive around the world.
Throw away the watch. Wear your phone.
4 am queues are so in. Dior, the who?
Thank god: Chrome can stand in
when Mozilla's bonkers.
Drown in likes and wallow in tweets.
Stay drugged. Stay unconcerned.
Pack up your rage and light a bonfire.
May be the smoke will
plug the holes in our skies.
It's all over.
An unmarked grave is all you get.
Gun or some fun.
Whose cause do you want to benefit?
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 11:54 AM UTC
Caravans carefully cross empty mesquite desert
between howls from creatures too small to produce them.
There is a slight bump and the convoy tips.
Tips, tips, tips, like snapping fingers, tipping over cauldrons filled with molten magma. They laugh a maniacal laughter as they slip through millenniums of sand, counter intuitively freezing.
Long gone Pharaohs, oil drums and abandoned spare tires.
Once was lost, but now I've found.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
"Oh yeah? Did you **** anybody?"
Is what people ask when they see
smeared across my past
like a bloodstains on a white sheet
US Marine
Iraq
twice
And they cant understand the answer
because they cant understand the question
“I really think you got that guy man!
We should radio back and get you
a confirmed ****
“Im pretty sure I shot that guy in the back.”
"Holy **** Miller and Johnson are dead."
And I never knew what to say to my friends
Because I was busy doing mental math
Emotional equations
In their eyes
How many more times they could be blown up
Before they were unreliable
Divide the fear with rage
Because you had a job to do
Someone had to get in the truck
And push the fragile blindfolded bodies back
With his boot so he could sit down
below the armor
away from the snipers
And one of them was shaking
it was cold
And his cowering skinny teenage body shook
It was like mine had been not long ago
For the whole convoy
three hours
And I carry these memories in the same tissues as the ones
that carry my sleeping infant son
nuzzled against my chest
under a blanket
warm
safe
Some of us let them spill out of our veins
Onto bathroom floors
In ditches and alleys
car wrecks
shaking
Any good devildog prefers the screams of the dying
to the screams of the living.
And the math keeps coming out negative
When I equate the cost of our
cell phones candy wrappers
vibrators golf courses
with
https://www.amnestyusa.org/pdfs/sscistudy1.pdf
And I subtract the dark areas of my mind
From what can be filled with love
And am still at war.
Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 10:42 AM UTC
The time to wail has always been here
Every day we suffer the consequences owned by the heirs
Not for once have they worn our shoes
They have refused to please our clues
Yet they devise new means of sitting on the throne
Without giving in to our daily moan.
Hypocrites
Meetings upon meetings
Agbada upon dansiki
Designer upon latest trends
Convoy upon macho guards
Yet they proclaim it’s all vanity.
Hypocrites!
In the end of the fashion rally at the house,
Worthless Nothing of importance is established
But the cake is diminished
And then they blame it on poor rats. Hypocrites!
Blame them and no one else!
Because it’s their selfish interest they fight for and not us.
From the doom by boko haram
To the slaughter by herdsmen.
Hypocrites!
Don’t we see it!
The people get to die
But they live to see their greatest grandchildren
While their billion dollar ready made coffins rot in the backyard.
Hypocrites!
God is the ultimate judge
Only God can make the evil one right in his sight.
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 4:08 PM UTC
Room 14 with the starfruit tree and pink blossoms out front and a Sala perfect for dances
Stargazing and rain dances
In the shadows of mother in the hearts of others
i found the beat , the movements of time and space co - create
I am part of the convoy to welcome in the rains of spiritual nourishment , for myself included
What better place than black sanded temples of resistance and Art Cafe's with deep sea explorers as their musical accompaniment
Searching for secret beaches only to find temple forests , vast cliffs of vast air and vast sea playing with the light that rains down in sheets to the ocean floor , refracting into golden hues of deep blue , white froth and aqua
Finally a beach , packed to the brim
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
I have bad dreams.
They come, unbidden, into my room at night.
They pass through the maze of my alcoholic daze;
They take me back,
Back to a dusty desert road;
Our convoy is headed towards Mosul.
But we never make it there:
The Humvee is upended by an eardrum shattering blast.
I am falling.
I see you are screaming but there is no sound..
Blackness.
I died three times on the medivac copter
But the Corpsman kept bringing me back.
I have bad dreams
In them I see the faces of the dead,
They are the faces of my friends;
My friends, for whom I mourn
Until this heart becomes a stone.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC