"responders" poems
We Are The First Responders
We are the first responders
The many in the blue
We protect you from the fires
And from those who would harm you
We heal with a helping hand
And respond to all who call
We are the first responders
The ones who see it all
You ask us to protect you
And you call when you're in need
You get mad if we're a minute late
To a crime we cant forsee
You run quickly from the fire
We run toward the burning flames
You take the drugs to harm yourself
Still we treat you just the same
We see a fear that's in your eyes
Yet we stand straight and true
We are the first responders
And we do this all for you
Carl Joseph Roberts
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 5:00 AM UTC
From 3 p.m. Monday to 3 p.m. Tuesday
<h2>Police calls
<h3>LA CROSSE
3:39 p.m., Hit-and-run, 4400 block of Hwy. 16
4:11 p.m., Theft, 3700 block of Hwy. 16
4:41 p.m., Hit-and-run, 1100 block of State St.
5:37 p.m., Domestic disturbance, 1000 block of Charles St.
5:42 p.m., Theft, 2100 block of Liberty St.
5:59 p.m., Fight, Fourth and King sts.
8:08 p.m., Theft, 2400 block of Rose St.
8:08 p.m., Domestic disturbance, 400 block of Sixth St.
8:37 p.m., Domestic disturbance, 1000 block of Fifth Ave. S.
10:14 p.m., Domestic disturbance, 1600 block of Adams St.
11:32 p.m., Domestic disturbance, 1400 block of Avon St.
2:38 a.m., Domestic disturbance, 900 block of 16th St.
8:25 a.m., Theft, 3300 block of Rosehill Place
8:25 a.m., Theft, 1000 block of Ninth St.
8:26 a.m., Theft, 500 block of Main St.
8:26 a.m., Theft, 1400 block of Johnson St.
8:34 a.m., Theft, 400 block of Seventh St.
9:24 a.m., Entry to dwelling, 1600 block of Caledonia St.
9:51 a.m., Theft, 400 block of Liberty St.
11:01 a.m., Fraud, first block of Copeland Ave.
12:16 p.m., Entry to dwelling, 1000 block of State St.
<h3>ONALASKA
6:06 p.m., Animal bite, 2600 block of Midwest Drive
<h3>WEST SALEM
7:40 a.m., Vandalism, 3400 block of Hwy. 16
12:13 p.m., Theft, 900 block of Hwy. 16
<h3>BANGOR
9:24 a.m., Theft, 1800 block of Commercial St.
<h2>Fire Calls
<h3>LA CROSSE
3:01 p.m., Accident with injury, Fourth and Mississippi sts.
4:11 p.m., Accident with injury, 4500 block of Hwy. 33
4:26 p.m., Accident with injury, Hwy. 16 and 157
5:45 p.m., First responders, 700 block of Oakland St.
6:18 p.m., First responders, 1800 block of Pine St.
6:40 p.m., Accident with injury, Main and Fourth sts.
9:27 p.m., Natural gas odor, 700 block of Ninth St. N.
10:16 p.m., First responders, 1600 block of Adams St.
10:20 p.m., First responders, 900 block of Vine St.
1:54 a.m., First responders, 4100 block of Velmar Court
8:34 a.m., First responders, 400 block of Seventh St.
9:01 a.m., First responders, 400 block of Seventh St.
10:41 a.m., Accident with injury, Ninth and Vine sts.
10:45 a.m., Carbon monoxide report, 1500 block of Main St.
10:46 a.m., First responders, 400 block of Gillette St.
11:04 a.m., Accident with injury, 1300 block of Rose St.
11:10 a.m., First responders, 1500 block of Rose St.
11:14 a.m., First responders, Fourth and King sts.
11:31 a.m., Accident with injury, 16th and Main sts.
12:05 p.m., Accident with injury, 200 block of Pearl St.
1:12 p.m., Accident with injury, Hood and Miller sts.
2:26 p.m., Accident with injury, 21st St. and Park Ave.
<h3>ONALASKA
3:30 p.m., First responders, 1000 block of Westview Circle
5:09 p.m., Accident with injury, 1200 block of Hwy PH
8:02 p.m., First responders, 300 block of 12th Ave.
8:43 p.m., First responders, 300 block of 12th Ave.
8:50 p.m., First responders, 200 block of Oak Forest Drive
9:47 p.m., First responders, 200 block of Carol Lane
6:12 a.m., First responders, 1000 block of Frances Court
10:41 a.m., First responders, 7200 Northshore Lane
11:27 a.m., Accident with injury, Grant St. and Hwy. SN
11:35 a.m., Accident with injury, Commerce and Abbey roads
11:53 a.m., Accident with injury, 300 block of 11th Ave.
12:14 p.m., First responders, 5500 block of Commerce Road
1:08 p.m., First responders, 400 block of Kimberly St.
1:42 p.m., Accident with injury, 600 block of Second Ave.
<h3>HOLMEN
9:59 p.m., First responders, 1500 block of Viking Ave.
10:50 a.m., Accident with injury, Sand Lake Road and Laurel Place
1:32 p.m., Accident with injury, 1400 block of Main St.
<h3>WEST SALEM
8:53 a.m., First responders, 500 block of Elm St.
11:09 a.m., First responders, 300 block of Franklin St.
<h3>MELROSE
1:21 p.m., First responders, 9700 block of Hwy. 108
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
I almost died the other day
And I came back to this place just to say
That you never know when it all can get taken Away
All your life's lessons suddenly play
like a highschool production through your mind's electric grey clay,
a mind managing to keep itself oxygenated enough to operate even as consciousness fades
A body lying there, blue as a mid summer's day, gasping
For breath, and for a chance to stay
Alive.
I woke up, having almost died the other day,
To a room full of strange faces, whose eyes all aimed my way.
A room full of strangers,
My vision regaining clarity,
I see equipment of many types, lying around a well decorated living room, it seemed out of place,
devices dreamed up by engineers a few hundred miles away,
At an elite institution, of mechanical engineering and science, engineering devices that now lay about my horrified friend's living room,
Then the puzzle regained its shape, and I was graced with the understanding that it was all going to be okay,
this time, anyway.
the first responders,
My saviours.
Real heroes,
Who wear no capes,
Nor spandex,
But who know their job well,
And do it without delay,
And these people who saved my life today
Are out of my life now forever, and onto saving another fragile life, on some other street,
On some other day.
I saw people in blues, reds, and greys, yellows and oranges, and then the light of the day.
The light of the day on which I did not die,
But I could have, had it been another time,
Another place.
My stretcher was bright yellow, by the way...
I almost died the other day, and its implacable oncoming rush scared me.
The fear of not having lived a worthy life, an unobserved life,
Of dying too soon, with things left to do
Of leaving people behind,
Of wrongs left to right
Of lying here blue
On my dear friend's plush carpet,
And her child witnessing it as he comes home from school. Innocent as day, then scarred for life.
Luckily I have a few friends and modern miracles on my side.
I almost died the other day, and I came back here, having missed all the poetry, that makes life worth living, day after day.
Beyond the biorhythms we must feed
In order to stay
Alive.
Peace.
Love.
Breath.
Focus.
A good enough mantra,
Wouldn't you say?
I almost died the other day,
But I didn't. I breathe
in with gratitude,
And I exhale with relief,
that I still got the knack
for it.
Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 10:52 AM UTC
When the Costa Concordia met with a reef,
it was certain some lives would be lost.
As she listed to starboard at eighty degrees,
Her Captain was first to get off.
Captain Schettino was schmoozing some blonde
when his ship began veering to shore.
He was unwilling to go down on his ship,-
The blonde? yes, but hold the encore.
It seems his chief waiter hails from the Isle,
the Isle with the ship eating reef.
They drew close to shore so he’d wave to his wife
an excursion that beggars belief.
The Coast guard responders where shocked and amazed;
They just couldn’t believe what they saw:
The Cruise liner Captain, paddling furiously,
beating women and children to shore.
Unlike Captain Smith, who stood at his post,
hearing “ Nearer my God to thee.”
The tune that Schettino will sing his bambinos
is “Nearer to Shore take me!”
He’ll spend time in jail, but the punishment pales
when compared to the scope of his sin
This sailor has fallen from grace with the sea
in his dreams let their screams never end.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
Father Mychal Judge bent down
to the woman on the floor.
His right hand made the cross in sign
like oft he had before.
Above him the North Tower Burned
like South Tower just next door.
The chaplain of the firemen,
Mychal was a Catholic priest.
Born and bred in Brooklyn,
He was no stranger to these streets.
When he heard word about the planes,
his safety he ignored..
He had to go be with his boys
His trust was in the Lord.
The people in the towers had
the choice to burn or fly.
So many that day took the plunge
preferring not to fry.
The raging fires melted steel.
South Tower started to collapse
The Bravest in her stairwells
never heard recall perhaps.
“Sweet Jesus, Make this end now! ”
Some heard Father Mychal cry.
Debris from the South Tower
Like a scythe came flying by.
It was blunt force trauma to the head
laid Father Mychal low.
His friends removed his body,
before North tower , too, would go.
Thousands passed that terrible day;
the mighty and the small.
When responders came with body bags
Mychal was first of all.
Zero Zero Zero One
A strange number for a Priest,
who rushed in where many others fled,
May now he rest in Peace.
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 6:43 PM UTC
We can never forget September 11, 2001
We will forever remember such a date
A date that will live in infamy
A date that has everything in it:
Sadness, fire, death, destruction and bravery
Heroism, sickness and resilience, except happiness
9/11/2001 is a memorable and a daring date
That changed the world. Things are not seen like
The day before. We have a different perspective
About life and everything under the sun
We learn new ways of mourning, sighing
Fighting, of course new ways of being absolutely resilient
No, we will never forget this fateful day where terrorism
Became a new word. Everybody is talking about the death
Of so many brave first responders: firefighters, policemen
And many others who wear proudly their uniforms
We shall never forget 9/11. We will never forget 9/11
The sacrifices made by the brave civilians who had lost their lives
Are priceless. The eternal flame in our heart cannot be extinguished
We know that everyone in NYC and elsewhere will always
Remember how the world got shocked, stunned by these egregious
And deadly actions perpetrated by a bunch of sick cowards
9/11/2001 is a monument engrained in our brain which will live there
For a very long time. The memories of the braves are metastasized
In our psychic, no one can suppress them without killing us cold
"911" is no longer three numbers but a historic symbol like Pearl Harbor
9/11/2001 is now 18 years old. 18 years of tears, fear, pain and suffering
We shall never forget 9/11. We will remember. We can never forget 9/11.
Copyright © 9/11/2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 8:29 AM UTC
sight smile
approach lifts
close tingle
eyes sparkle
yours
fields mesh
ours
hair stands
strands brush
wills fade
lips touch
lost
forms meld
blood flows
tongues search
breath mixed
perspire
wet
we float
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 9:44 AM UTC
The Hardest Forgiving Slant
<|>
9:19am Fri Sept 22 2023 ~ 8:02am Fri Sep 29 2023
commenced during the Ten Days of Awe
<|>
we debase our language daily,
robbing the spectacular majesty [example]
of awe with the common overusing
vernacular of “awesome”
especially forgiveness is degraded,
we utter “I’m sorry” trippingly,
costless, less than cheap, with even the
snap-on veneer (1) of sincerity discarded,
but move on to the next rudeness
but today I will not permit myself
an easy letting-off-the-hook, no shifting
of blame to anonymity, or fast forward to tomorrow,
when we can obfuscate our intrepid
dishonesty one more time…again
to forgive those who have injured us,
not that hard, or the judging deities,
who silently wink and nod, but offer
no certitude beyond trying, itself a
maybe, maybe not, truly tiring this
trying tacking the constant requests
so first an etymology explication on
the tension inherent that very word,
f o r g i v e
As a word, as a sensed,
intuitively-
it is a
Perfect Continuous Infinitive! (2)
to
forgive is
perfect,
to forgive is
continuous,,
to forgive is
infinite!
what a marvelous, perpetual
past, present and always futuristic
word (alas)
The Hardest Forgiving?
to forgive oneself
so nearer to impossible,
the first responders doing triage,
leave people like me for last,
as it a unconditional condition
with no cure that can be effected
indeed, by our very affect,
they instant diagnosis seeing our
very gestures, body language, or ****** expressions,
all reveal the hopelessness of
the never-to-be-given-grace,
among us
for a thousand years,
I have tried and failed to forgive myself
for the worst I’ve done,
and there is no sword or club,
blood-letting,
that can dispatch the onerous burden I carry
so I write poetry,
a salve that offers
temporary relief,
while I write,
imposed a
momentarily distracting,
a kind of dusting of self~spin,
that chills myself
just until
the, this!
poem is finished,
the slant is drawn
<§>
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
Sep 29, 2023
Sep 29, 2023 at 8:12 AM UTC
Five thousand Pounds of steel,
rising from the ground,
in a rusted, twisted state
at the center of our town.
The names of us who died
are inscribed around the base.
Our names are spoken yearly
and have been given pride of place.
Yet please don’t call us victims-
People taken unawares-
Recall us rather heroes
for we chose to climb those stairs.
We were fire and policemen
first responders, one and all,
In the war waged against terror
we were just the first to fall.
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 9:29 PM UTC
.
Father Mychal Judge bent down
to the woman on the floor.
His right hand made the cross in sign
like oft he had before.
Above him the North Tower Burned
like South Tower just next door.
The chaplain of the firemen,
Mychal was a Catholic priest.
Born and bred in Brooklyn,
He was no stranger to these streets.
When he heard word about the planes,
his safety he ignored..
He had to go be with his boys
His trust was in the Lord.
The people in the towers had
the choice to burn or fly.
So many that day took the plunge
preferring not to fry.
The raging fires melted steel.
South Tower started to collapse
The Bravest in her stairwells
never heard recall perhaps.
“Sweet Jesus, Make this end now!”
Some heard Father Mychal cry.
As Debris from the South Tower
Like a scythe came flying by.
It was blunt force trauma to the head
laid Father Mychal low.
His friends removed his body
before North tower, too, would go.
Thousands passed that terrible day;
the mighty and the small.
When responders came with body bags
Mychal was first of all.
Zero Zero Zero One
A strange number for a Priest,
who rushed where Angels feared to tread,
not fearful in the least
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 8:43 PM UTC
In a dream I wandered through the cathedral of death
the dust and smoke catching me in my throat
as I counted myriad of souls that flew past me
Amazed, were they, at how they now were, lost and bewildered.
And some so fresh, not of the first to die, responders
so called, who came to help, to rescue and became
part of the event, surprised in the act of dying
desperately trying to contact their loved ones
even in death, and the white dust covering all
even those who, in their mistaken belief thought
that they were martyrs and in some spiritual world
for heroes and deservedly so, looking, for virgins
but all they found was disillusion as they wept for
those whom they had dispatched to oblivion with one
fell swoop and through a trick of fate and time they
saw the future and what it would bring and were ashamed.
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 12:28 PM UTC
in the High School cafeteria
there was horror on the menu;
A loner with a pistol
seeking victims and a venue.
Three times the pistol fired
and kids began to fall.
It might have been a massacre
if not for old Frank Hall.
Frank Hall was the football coach
with a short and stubby frame.
While others fled, he charged towards
this criminal insane.
Frank Hall didn't stop to think
he didn't have the time.
As he charged towards the gunman
His life was on the line.
The gunman fired once at Frank,
the shot rang high and wide
It caught a fleeing coed,
put a flesh wound in her side.
The gunman turned in panic
as the first responders came
He fled into the nearby woods,
just some kid named T.J. Lane.
Three teenagers lay dead inside
one more would never stand.
Many more lives had been spared
by the courage of one man.
He comforted the dying
as the ambulance came late.
The moment found the man-
was it providence or fate?
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
I know I invite reproach
When I speak aloud in wonder
Why boys are the first to approach
And girls are mere responders!
It’s the boy that discovers the chance
In the girl next to him in school
For a courtship and steady romance
Though the girl must play it cool!
If the girl eyes him just once
That’s enough to make him bolder
Just one look puts him in trance
Though the girl must give him cold shoulder!
The boy so oft reads the signals wrong
Cavorting buck with wildly beating heart
The girl cautious doesn’t fall in love headlong
Makes sure the boy is good to make a start!
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 5:05 AM UTC
Who can stand against the wind
That Tornado Ally blows?
What is within a people,
Who naught but hardship knows?
A force like an atomic bomb
Has visited again-
The great Plains own apocalypse
in the roaring of the wind?
Moore is, more or less, destroyed.
No stone upon a stone.
Amidst the wreckage, children’s toys,
That none will claim to own.
I have witnessed as the fires burn
among the fallen walls.
as first responders sift through stones
in search of living souls.
A playground, where no children laugh,
Now a bleeding open sore..
Mothers, weeping for their children,
Because they are no more..
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
I.
The night sky cantillates a tune
only sobbing icicles can hear
A redeye flight soars
with a defunctive plot aboard
Supposedly Pluto planned it
News reports the next morning
said responders found a suicide note
along with residue from a melted
block of ice in the wreckage.
II.
Some millions of miles away
pocketing silence in his palm
Neptune’s tears freeze
on the green tips of pine trees
Frozen leaves sleep beneath
glaring Great Horned Owls
Black eyes bend in the back,
ground stiff as their spine.
III.
There is nothing scary about
a sad bedtime story
without crows or ghosts
or a cat’s empty cradle
When the pages turn
the night sky descends into
its deepest sleep before dawn
and closed eyelids fantasize
about tomorrow’s morning.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 12:52 PM UTC
returning from a social meeting
lightly stepping on a deserted street
there is no streetlight to guide my feet
though bundled up tight for a cold night
my face feels the crispy wind is making the skin flake
as an intense blowing shear takes a bite
wasn't this the short cut i used to take
i tell myself there is nothing to fear
but my monkey mind is pumping hard
asking how i got here
a winged shadow appeared when i stopped
i nearly peed my pants doing a side step dance
but reason held out as it was just a concrete molding
in the moon's trance
from a building on the right - up top
i hear a single, solitary, solo drum in the distance
maybe someone to help identify my last mindless turn
lightly stepping on this deserted street
attention is paid to the increasing beat
is the brain asking for faster feet
then when i focus
it's my own **** heartbeat
i tell myself there is nothing to fear
but my monkey mind is amping and freaking
asking how i got here
a dislogded, free minded, loudly rolling can
rattled my lunch
breathe breathe breathe
follow that black and grey two toned cat
surely it has a hunch
three echoing shots
followed by a gut level scream
now i am completely locked in
is this a dream
to reconnect and find my way home
i vow to never ever again
forget my phone
it seems much colder
as i turn another corner
following the sounds of the sirens
i tell myself there is nothing to fear
but my monkey mind is hurting now
asking where are these environs
blood was everywhere
the street, the windows, the walls
first responders were in slow motion
but at least they answered the call
i tell myself there is nothing to fear
but my monkey mind is out of control
asking how i got here
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
There are many "you's" out there, on the highways, byways, freeways. Those that put others in harms way, excercising their egotistical need to be "first in line", "head of the class", so to speak; **** the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" is their rallying cry.
It makes no difference what "YOU" are driving, old vehicle, new vehicle. Perhaps an overly powerful pickup truck, or an SUV, that makes YOU feel IMMORTAL. Ice, snow, rain, dark of night, makes no difference to YOU. Inconsiderate, rude, careless, makes YOU, dangerous. Today is no different, its "all about YOU." Speeding, weaving in and out of traffic, no need for signals, tail-gating, trying to get that vehicle out of YOUR way, because YOU are being "INCONVENIENCED!" YOU, don't care! For this morning, like any other morning, "its all about YOU."
The lights are a bit glaring, as you begin to emerge from that state of unconsciousness, laying in that hospital bed, wondering where you are, who, and why, are those strangers standing around you.
They are the doctors, nurses, first responders, investigators, preparing for your reaction when you're told that the brains of your spouse and children had to be scraped off the pavement with a snow shovel.
You should be proud of yourself. For today is truly,
"All about YOU!"
copyright: richard riddle April 03, 2015
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
The Blast of wood and glass
Erupts Like Blooms of Flame
The First responders Arrive
Purely for the Clean up and Blame
It Came from the Kitchen
Investigators search debris
Hot ash and Smoke hover
Embers glow and Flare over
A woman rushes up
Begging a Fireman
Please tell me...
Did my mother Live?
There were no survivors
I am Sorry to say
She began Crying away
Sobbing Through tears to say
Mother Texted me today
Cancer... they say
I just want one last cigarette
Before I go Away..........
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
startling images of earthquake destruction
mangled bodies strewn hitherto
charred flesh of orphaned infants
lie motionless on the partially uplifted
hospital/ monastery floor
trying to lift and remove rubble
in a desperate attempt to locate
the sobbing baby
which I can hear, but not see –
34 train cars piled
twisted metal sitting
in an oil and chemical spill
hazmat teams stare blankly
at the massive carnage
overwhelmed by the mayhem
and poisoned by their presence
within hours the first responders
have passed,
the last moments..
chocking and gurgling on their own blood
creeping up from internal damage –
wide-eyed militants stand armed
at the entrances to FEMA camps
angrily shouting and pushing American citizens
into places of detainment
while laughing about failed democracy –
night after night
I wake from terrible dreams….
Mt. Hood major eruption
ending Portland
and impacting the Columbia,
Juan De Fucca slippage
Oregon and Washington coastline in shambles
thousands dead and bodies lost,
rogue asteroid smashing headlong
into the Atlantic seaboard
leaving near ½ of our 308 million
washed away
like the Atlanteans
or the Egyptian Kings of old,
sweat coated sheets have become the norm….
nightly visitations of misshapen faces
poking and prodding,
looking at the Cascades
as harbingers of radioactive derbies
and witnessing the physical decline
of its natural inhabitants,
the ever propagandized
deadly threat of extremists
bent on killing innocents,
my tired eyes only wish for peace –
It is not kosher to refer
to oneself as a prophet or
seer or the future,
but those of you who choose
to blindly accept that everything remains
the same
will only be remembered
through songs and tales
yet unwritten –
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Entrusted with sovereignty they set sail,
Prepared to face the threats that lie beyond the horizon,
Responders to the call of the weary are they who defend our fortress,
Mystics and heroines hoisted to battle at the drop of a flag,
An alliance to marvel by all in the land,
Legends are they whose sacrifices sustain our livelihood,
Its power vested in communion.
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 11:29 AM UTC
Because of recent fatal accidents that have occurred recently in the Dallas area, I felt it appropriate to repost this piece.
There are many "you's" out there, on the highways, byways, freeways. Those that put others in harms way, excercising their egotistical need to be "first in line", "head of the class", so to speak; **** the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" is their rallying cry.
It makes no difference what "YOU" are driving, old vehicle, new vehicle. Perhaps an overly powerful pickup truck, or an SUV, that makes YOU feel IMMORTAL. Ice, snow, rain, dark of night, makes no difference to YOU. Inconsiderate, rude, careless, makes YOU, dangerous. Today is no different, its "all about YOU." Speeding, weaving in and out of traffic, no need for signals, tail-gating, trying to get that vehicle out of YOUR way, because YOU are being "INCONVENIENCED!" YOU, don't care! For this morning, like any other morning, "its all about YOU."
The lights are a bit glaring, as you begin to emerge from that state of unconsciousness, laying in that hospital bed, wondering where you are, who, and why, are those strangers standing around you.
They are the doctors, nurses, first responders, investigators, preparing for your reaction when you're told that the brains of your spouse and children had to be scraped off the pavement with a snow shovel.
You should be proud of yourself. For today is truly,
"All about YOU!"
copyright: richard riddle April 03, 2015
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
At least for a day
At least for a day America came together
At least for a day , no one cared what color our skin was , or where we came from.
At least for a day we honored law enforcement and first responders in the like, as they charged toward the unknown danger to keep the rest of us safe.
At least for a day we let our military do what they were trained to do , instead of sit on their hands .
At least for a day we could do whatever we had to , to keep the country safe from further attacks.
At least for a day their was no partisan politics , where the government worked together for the greater good and put aside the petty bickering and said “ what do you need Mr President “.
On a day where the enemy tried to break America , we stood together as Americans , one body ,not identified by skin color , religion , or preferences , we all cried together, we all brushed off the dust , built a taller building , even though that is not the symbol of who we are , it was a symbol of what we aren’t .
At least for a day , we couldn’t be broken .
17 years later ..... we are fighting against ourselves , being encouraged to disobey law enforcement , divided again by our skin color , or religion , or preference , for a while , I couldn’t even say Merry Christmas without potentially offending someone.
Hatred is spewing on both sides of our government , we are being told to “resist “.
What happened ?
Do we need another tragedy to show us all we bleed the same color ?
The Bible says “ a house divided against itself can not stand “ Matt 12:22.
I will never forget the sorrow of that day , all the souls lost then , and the ones still recovering , I cried that day , and I cry now , because at least for a day , we forgot about all the other ******** and fought back as Americans , mourned as Americans , re built as Americans .
At least for a day , we stood together !
At least for a day!
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
You were slightly delusional from handfuls of sleeping pills with
high amounts of diphenhydramine which led to hallucinations.
I tried to reason with you but when you punched the wall,
I felt my entire body contract out of empathy and
my fight-or-flight kicked in and for once,
I chose flight.
Your phone number popped up on my screen,
I answered, ready to tell you that I’d never come back
to this complex to give you another chance,
and you threatened my worst fear.
I panicked at first, then matched your threat with my own,
but mine was calling first responders to take you themselves
so I forced you into my car and you screamed until the vocal folds
across your larynx couldn’t produce anymore curse words.
You stared at the bleached tiles and refused to talk to the nurse in triage;
I muttered key phrases to get you admitted
intermittently between sobs that caught the waiting room’s attention,
especially when I whispered “ex-girlfriend”.
Protocol called for an observation period and the sitter
in charge of watching you for the moment looked up
from her chart occasionally, slyly listening to you
harshly hissing that you didn’t want me there anymore.
I flinched towards the curtains and I slinked along the walls
until I was able to walk out the door and leave you behind.
When I talked to the nurse privately, he ensured you would be evaluated,
that I did the right thing by taking you in, that I might have saved your life.
He promised that we were both safe now.
Except, I am not safe.
It has been two weeks since I left through those sliding hospital doors.
I am terrified that every motorcycle I hear on the road
could be you tracking me down or I will see you every time
I walk out of the class on the same campus as yours or
that I will never be able to open up the walls you made me build
around my secrets that you used as ammunition against me
to validify your anger in arguments that you started.
I imagined a life for us so different from this and now,
I’m not even safe in my own thoughts because
they’ve already betrayed me so much.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 4:02 PM UTC