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SE Reimer Mar 2015
~

fallen…
heroes all,
saviors-in-training,
on mission repeat;
the service-giving,
life-giving,
members of
a fighting team.
existing solely that
you and i
can spend our time
consumed
with the art
of loving well;
their actions
no less impassioned
than our own,
no less worthy,
no less loving and
no less selfless.  

whatever we think
of war,
we must think
of the individuals
who move toward the fray
rather than away;
those to whom
we owe our very
everyday existence
be it extraordinary
or mundane;
to their daily efforts.,
to their repeated training,
to their daily sacrifice,
we offer
a prayer-filled salute!

and to these
who paid dearly,
to wives,
sons & daughters,
mothers and fathers,
nation with a
grateful heart,
a debt we cannot repay,
we humbly offer
our heart-filled
and loving tribute.
may you ever
rest in peace.

~

*post script.


serving you and me from Camp Lejeune, North Carolina,
these fallen Marine heroes are:
Capt. Stanford Henry Shaw III of Basking Ridge, New Jersey;
Master Sgt. Thomas Saunders of Camp Lejeune;
Staff Sgt. Liam Flynn of Queens, New York;
Staff Sgt. Trevor P. Blaylock of Lake Orion, Michigan;
Staff Sgt. Kerry Michael Kemp of Port Washington, Wisconsin;
Staff Sgt. Andrew Seif of Holland, Michigan; and
Staff Sgt. Marcus Bawol from Warren, Michigan

http://www.marinecorpstimes.com/story/military/2015/03/13/names-of-7-marines-killed-in-helicopter-crash-released/70277156/

(the four fallen Guard members remain unnamed at this time)

next month my son is deployed
to points classified to us his parents.
i can only think about his sacrifice
in terms of time, money, exposure to danger …  
and his safe return!
Staff Sgt. Joseph D'Augustine
a proud Jersey son
whom Thou hast blessed
laid in St. Luke’s ground
for his heavenly rest
April 4, 2012

1.

in a far off province of
God forsaken Helmand,
our dear son Joey
met his untimely end

an explosive crack
a most terrible sound
felled a beloved Jersey son
to the cold cruel ground

working the live wires
of a well placed IED
a deathly burst killed him
it was awful to see  

Staff Sgt. Joseph D’Augustine
in solemn duty fell
fellow brothers in arms
will forever reverently tell

of courage and character
of a dear fallen friend
and how the valiant warrior
met with death at his end

for he was always faithful
to his beloved corps
comrades couldn't ask
a valiant marine for more


2.

details of his death
are not the real story
selflessness and bravery
are but part of his glory

is it brash to
question why he fell?
in a useless bitter war
an embroiled senseless hell

a generation mustered
to fight in the war on terror
serving four tours of duty
in a lost decade of errors

two tours in Afghanistan and Iraq
could a nation ask a man for more?
for he was always faithful to the call
upholding pledges he hath sworn

3.

the burden of war
to a  few confined
it rarely crosses
an American’s mind

incessant war machine
drones on apace
the horror of conflict
so cleverly displaced

with afternoon baseball
and super bowl parties
big disco paychecks
and other selfish priorities

pay hollow tribute
to dear weary troops
when valor is mentioned
we gather in groups

we’ll raise the flag
sing stirring anthems
than its back to the party
pay it no more attention

self styled patriots
wave handfuls of flags
but ask them to contribute
the zeal soon lags

its left to the few
to shoulder burdens of many
fairness is lost
its a democratic calamity

four tours in a decade
an inhumane task
burdens require sharing
its only fair to ask

Joey was always faithful
to the task at hand
willing to step forward
to serve his homeland


4.

in the wake of 9/11
a nation deeply shaken
young patriots stirred
liberty’s call not forsaken

a call to serve answered
to quell the rise of terror
a clear clarion alarm
marks the nature of the era

Joey boldly came forward
to train and learn
the art of warriors
his bright patriotism burned

deployed to Afghanistan
to capture Osama
routing the Taliban
without much problem

but a pacified Afghan
not enough for Bush
he invaded Iraq
another military push

we rolled into Baghdad
adorned with victors garlands
Saddam’s statue toppled
our troops were honored

deposing a dictators
soon turned to occupation
a ****** mission transformed
to build the Iraqi and Afghan nations

once honored liberators
now a conquering force
bestriding broken nations
on a civil war course

military industrialists
stood to profit most
sweet protracted conflict
record earnings to boast

lives bartered for lucre
a region held hostage
the conflict deepened
hostilities hardened

America dipped into
a great recession
the war machine
bled money and
kept on ticking

scooping up contracts
rewarding investors
the dividends of war
heaven sent treasure

continuation of hostilities
preys on a nation's youth
as casualties mount
ill portents forsoothed

a fraction of citizens
bare heartaches of war
gulping measures of despair
to guard a nations door

a nation always faithful
to the holy pursuit of profit
a highest citizens calling
put money into your pocket


5.

our beloved Jersey son
gave a full measure of devotion
in dress blues they shipped him
back across the ocean

on the Dover tarmac
they received his remains
for a last ride northward
to his hometown terrain

repatriated body
bereft of soul saluted
solemn escort knelt
hearts trembled, tears muted

a hearse for a gallant man
flanked by state troop cruisers
to escort the funeral train
assure an honored movement

one last trip up
old thunder road
the storied highway
Joey often trod

the last detail legged up 17
reverent firefighters saluted  
from overpasses
to honor  the woeful scene

as the motorcade passed
the Garden State Malls
frenzied consumers
failed to notice at all

busy window shoppers
didn't to turn an eye
as Joey rolled home
to the sweet by and by

vets interred at the
Old Paramus Church
gently stirred in their graves
reasons for war they search

Channel 12 Chopper
circled its eye in the sky
televised the sad parade
captured many teary eyes

the early spring blooms
colorful petals displayed
maples and forsythias
a royal carpet laid

spring remains always faithful
as the new season turns
offer sunshine and glory
as our sinking hearts burn

6.

motorcycle escort
northbound lane clear
rolling homeward
Waldwick was near

leaves exploding
green shoots budding
****** white maple blooms
natures accolades stunning

the oaks yet bare
just waking from slumber
winters death passing
a sad day put asunder

the motorcade passed
Joey’s home on Prospect Ave
few  envision lifes endings
this woefully sad

red chevy pickup idles
in hoop crowned driveway
never to drain jumpers again
departed children can’t play

the eye in the sky
framed neighbors in mourning
welcoming back a fallen hero
unsettled emotions dawning

neighbors waved Old Glory
from painted stoops and curbs
unsure how this tragedy
visits this blessed suburb

green grass of home
always flush with spirit
tears welled in the eyes
most difficult to bear it

last cruise of the town
sad neighbors stand witness
paying final due respects
and ponder from a distance

what purpose is served
by this man’s passing?
the dead cannot speak
rationale is for the living

the terrible herse
death circles our town
moves through our day
hope of spring drowned

murderer of sunshine
killer of young flowers
budding trees breaking
our hearts an ashen pallor

we remember the beauty
of Joey’s stout face
as it looked on your finest day
exuding pure honor and grace

old vets gather
donning caps and pins
boasting semper fi jackets
jutting tear dripping chins

shaking hands, giving hugs
bearing tattered banners
the hearse ambles onward
we head home in solemn manner

good folks are always faithful
where beloved ones grew
the death of our children
we sadly cannot undo


7.

the bells of St. Lukes
called out from the sky
platoons of limping vets
marched in with pride

pomp and circumstance
requisite dress blues
family, friends, townsfolk
overflowed the pews

doleful bells resound
tolling a mournful reckon
the cost of war mounts
a family’s loss beckons

the casualties of war
falls upon a nation's youth
a seasons page not  turned
a flowing wound not soothed

the wistful cornet calling
floats on the fluted air
the bereaved ***** gently sounds
a congregations somber despair

an unsettling dirge
the parish grows uneasy
nationalist bravado wanes
in the forlorn sanctuary

both church and flag
draped in colors of war
mock stain glass windows
communicants adore

is it a betrayal of the flag
to offer enemies
psalms of reconciliation?
where does true loyalty lay
with God or a warring nation?

afterall this is a sanctuary
where peace and harmony reigns
are we not called to beat swords
into ploughshares as the highest
calling of our Lord?

we are always faithful
to the pathways to war
when the practice of peace
is what we should adore

8.

coughing and whispers
incessant low murmur
a baby cries out
we sit and remember

the crucifers process
in solemnity to greet
subtle ***** notes salute
a coffin draped in Old Glory sheets

the beloved child welcomed
to his eternal repose
priests splash holy water
within the sacred dome

an amazing grace revealed
lifted by marine pallbearers
dearly departed body presented
gently placed at the altar

a grief struck sister
lovingly eulogizes
recalls tonka trucks,
GI Joe’s and cool transformers

a punch in the nose
an approaching wedding
beckoning Eastertide
vacation plans left begging

my second grade class sent
Christmas cookies and cards
to dear Joey and warrior friends
he said it warmed stark winter hearts

he was raised in this church
taught trust and reconciliation
the comfort of the Lords peace
may it surely go with him

for he was always faithful
to sisters, family and faith
his resurrection service
imbues sacredness
to this space

9.

sharp in dress blues
Eddie T USMC Gunny
big 50 caliber smile
offers his eulogy

Bada Bing Jersey Humvee
we called him Joey Calzones
good mood, loved sausages
he tickled the funny bone

always willing to sacrifice
loved the Patriots Tom Brady
a women dominated household
gave him a way with the ladies

his calling explosive ordinances
he said he was livin the dream
March 6th last time we met
knocking frost off cold ones
man whatta scream

a gallant marine,
beloved brother,
a sure friend
he was always faithful
I’m deeply wounded
by his untimely end


10.

the gospel read
the homily offered
Ecclesiastes wisdom
a time for everything
proffered

God never turns
an eye from the beloved
though seasons change
we are not forsaken
never unloved

as loss arrives
surely grief grows
turn away not
wisdom knows

in resignation
love lay dead
diligent intention
banishes dread

our rekindled hope
we rend and sow
our beloved Joey
knew this was so

our favorite son’s
example taught us
now rises on eagle’s wings
to claim his divine justice

Jesus faithfully tramped
the path to an awful death
Joey too fought the good fight
a warrior now gratefully at rest

The Lord holds him close
to the ***** of sure love
a cantors beatific voice incants
Joey’s spirit that forever enchants

The Lord is always faithful
to the bereaved and  beloved
no one ever forsaken
all unconditionally loved

11.

the Holy Eucharistic cup
affirms everlasting giving
tasted to nourish evermore
a libation for the living

singing the Beatitudes
praising peace makers
mercy filled voice and song  
pallbearers lift Joey’s coffin

off to seek his final peace
an earthly occupation ended
he’ll suffer worldly hate no more
down the aisle his coffin wended

the family closely followed
a mother haltingly sobbing
faithful marines came forth
to steady her wobbling

there is no sudden waking
from this terrible dream
the pungent incense rose
to the chapels sacred beams

the stained glass murals depict
the passion of Jesus’s story
illuming a consuming sorrow
in all its grace filled glory

the ***** of death slinks on again
we search for consolation
the recompense of honor blest
leaves a hollow heart wanting
no answers offered to quell the dark
of these terrible life’s moments
only the desperate need to hold onto
beleaguered treasure that sustains us

for we are always faithful
to the things we know
always faithful to the
things we refuse to let go

12.

the color guard and funeral detail
assembled in front of St. Luke’s
the cemetery right next door
the procession a short troop

the living will stumble through
the darkness of separation
seeking elusive answers
of poignant uncertainty;
all gave some, Joey gave all
nothing more required for his
journey through eternity

Joey will always be with us
his stories forever retold
as long as the machinery of
great nations engage
the gears of wasteful war

Joey’s spirit lives
in a peoples desire
for freedom, only if
our hope of peace
is greater than the
need for conflict

Joey’s lifes work
is sure to bear fruit
if those remaining
fight the good fight
by taking up the
task to protect and
expand the values
of liberty we
hold most dear

like our good
friend Jesus
Joey wears a crown
bejeweled with
a ring of thorns
hoisted on a
terrible cross
the sweet
incense of you
meets our nose
we inhale your
earthly presence
beholding beautifully
adorned crucifix,
a reminder of
unjust persecution
and a perfect
resurrection
yet this wretched
coffin remains

pledging allegiance
we rationalize our
stories, articulating
our small parts
in  heroic sagas,
reciting myths of
ourselves, recording
the grim history of
a young marine
surrounded by
a smart color guard,
feasting on todays
eucharist, this
days sweet taste
of  the daily bread
of human sorrow

The priest finishes
his graveside
commendation
of Joey D

Taps conclude
a wind rises
crows take flight
winging over
a stand of budding
Sugar Maples
exploding in white
blooms, reveling
in the glorious
sunshine of this
magnificent day

St. Luke’s stairway to
God Country and Home
smiling portrait of you
forever young

we surround your grave
to bless the earth
you've returned home
to your place of birth

our flowing pride
and salty tears bless
the anointed ground
that you loved best

a proud Jersey son
whom Thou hast blest
laid in St. Luke’s ground
for his heavenly rest

for he was always faithful
to the blessed land
forever at peace
in the soils sure hands

Charles Ives
The Unanswered Question

Oakland
11/10/13
jbm
Universal Thrum Jul 2018
I'm leaving Carly's place after an all day ****** that had me convinced that paradise lay in the legs of Nate's sister wearing a unicorn onesie, and as they put on Sgt. Peppers and lay there the ****** freudian passion play overcame my capacity for archetype observation and I proceeded to walk around the room thanking everybody in that space and time for the gift of starting the **** with Nate's sister, the beat changed and they turned on me and said I needed to give her space, they all became timeless aliens traveling through time to **** and I was one of them coming online in a loop, and as long as I stayed awake I would remember and not be *****. I sat cross legged holding my friend sams hands, looking into his eyes, saying aloud we're creating the universe constructing all as the three smartest people of all time, forever throughout we died but never died, as long as we could stay awake, they all wore red and I couldn't trust any of them, I fired off mad questions and demanded to know the secrets of the universe and why woman wasn't the answer, I called up to nate to bring her down to me, and generally became a raving lunatic
      after some time of sam being soulmate and accepting him forever as my lover self same image, and also calling him ugly as im ugly, then channeling Brittany through him and countless other regressive exercises, we started inhaling nitrous gas, and the world became one stretched out moment
       and I kept calling out before, all the way up, as it were the secret spell with a handshake to fool the devil
         I thought Nate a mad spirit habituating this plane as a long gone failed hero plagued by the madness of wanting to **** his sister and forced to watch all his friends be aware of their own lust, so that pushed him into clowning, which he is an expert, that primal lust took me up and id taken a holy mandate to **** this beautiful creature and ascend to paradise,
when they slipped her upstairs they left her rainbow onesie, i felt heaven become another step remote and my faith tested, I resolved to be the last awake and never die, I walked up to the attic, and saw the light beaming from the window


            Sam dropped me off at the press grill so I could eat some grub,
then I met up with Tyler for a drink somewhere while he told me his story of meeting a guy in a skyline chilis bathroom drunk at 3 am, he said the guy was standing at the ****** but wasn't *******. Ty asked him if he was done and the guy put Ty in a chokehold with his pants down, according to Ty the cops came in and he was putting clean shots into the guys mug, he is contemplating leaving town before they can indict him for felonious assault, I told him Canadas nice but Venezuela doesn't have an extradition treaty, come to think of it neither does Cuba, but Ty is too proud for that probably
   anyways we meet Carly being a dancing beauty in a high falootin joint with string lights called Julep, the only reason to mention it is because as we were leaving a guy was bent over the rail vomiting and looking wretched he noticed us watching him as we smoked our cigarettes off to the side and immediately decided that he wasn't some kind of side show freak to be gawked at, he became threatening in the most base and pathetic way a human can, and his bride came to tell us to ******* with her father, father of the bride shaking my hand, we eventually left that scene and walked to Oddfellows where I saw Sam Cohan and he bought me a beer, good chap, we talked until I stepped toward Carly, Tyler and a fine looking strange *****
I touched Carly and received an awkward unmemorable introduction to the strange *****. She walked away but lurked and locked eyes with me as the evening rolled on
later Carly told me that the girl demanded to meet the guy who looks like Heath Ledger, a sure fire ****, so Carly is grinding on my **** and my backs to the bar and Tyler already got me a beer, and there I was, a pirate king
I took Carly out after the lights came on, and was going to give Tyler the run of my place, he disappeared into the night and I showed Carly my favorite smelling tree, a pink mimosa still in bloom late July, we almost ****** on my car, until I went back to her place and we ****** until $430, rising at noon, I left telling her we had an hour to get ready to journey to Findlay for Jim's wedding
I showered and brushed my teeth and collected my suit and put it on without a tie
I picked up Carly and set out upon the road, but made a quick stop for a bite
two deaf guys ordered in front of me and the kid working the register said my glasses were cool, along the way I was telling Carly the story of how I wore make up for the first time to a middle school dance, and she said she had to *****, I didn't believe her at first until she tried to stick her head out the window half way rolled down, I managed to get it down all the way and wet streaks of human gut waste caught the wind and splattered my window
we pulled over and I went to get her some napkins to clean herself off as I squeeged the car, she tried to wipe the window with the napkins, sweet girl. The wedding started at 3:30 and we didn't have more than five minutes to spare, she found her vape pen 20 minute out as Heather started to send me worried messages, as I was set to read a passage, little did I know that I was leading off the whole affair, I arrived and was quickly rushed to meet the mothers and have a boutonnière pinned to my lapel , the women all looked stunning and I congratulated each in turn as they shoved a program in my hand, Tiffany took me through the drill, we walked up to the stage and took our places on the bench, looking out at the beautiful shining faces,


I was the only one not wearing a tie, but thats not important, I saw Jim and embraced him with all the love I could muster, he looked at me and said that he knew I would make it, that he knew that he just had to trust the flow, and I would appear in the nick of time, the pastor threw his hands in the air and welcomed the families, the mothers lit candles, and then Tiffany looked at me and said that it was my turn, I stepped up to the Beema and gazed out over the crowd, trying to summon something clever, nothing good came to mind and so I opened my mouth and said, "a reading from Genesis" and then put every fiber of my being into reminding the room that it is Gods will that we be fruitful and multiply. I'm told I slammed my hands down for emphasis and let out a hearty amen, a man's man's amen, and turned and took one giant step off the podium with two baby stairs, I gracefully flowed into the bench having averted a complete embarrassment, and then tactfully left the stage with Tiffany after her read.   Jim looked at me after mine with a nod, and I said the word strong, that read cemented my status as a star of the party, and the mojo flowed, I was called the cash guy by the hotel, for checking in as Atlantis Grosshammer, $200 depost, we drank and danced and an old lady came to me to say that I have a beautiful soul
I thanked Jim's father for helping to create my friend, and danced around bottles
the cake was good
I told Carly I always catch the brides garter, at every wedding I've ever been. I saw Jim's men assemble for his toss, I let the men come and put myself in the mix, Jim turned his back and had a misfire,
the temptation to collect it passed all of us by thankfully, and he was set to fire again, it came to me and I snatched it out of the air, cold as ice I walked off the floor only with eyes for Carly not even saying a word to Jim, I put that thing on my head and went back to Jim threw him on my shoulders and swung him around like we were in a broadway musical
two kids playing in the street,
he said its the best moment, and so it goes
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
12 Monkeys
17 Girls
127 Hours
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2001 A Space Odyssey
360
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*******
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Could be I’m on a mission:
Convince the entire world
I am the World's Greatest Living
English Language poet;
Of course, genius such as mine
Goes generally unrecognized until
The posthumous crowd weighs in.
And yet, wouldn’t it be nice?

• BEACH BOYS LYRICS-Wouldn't It Be Nice-A-Z Lyrics www.azlyrics.com /lyrics/beachboys/ wouldntitbenice. Wouldn't It Be Nice Lyrics-Beach Boys www.lyricsfreak.com›Beach Boys

Yes, wouldn’t it be nice?
(The Nobel Prize,
Tribute at the Kennedy Center,
A MacArthur Grant,
The Presidential Medal of Honor,
Reverent BJs from hipster groupies . . .
The Poet Laureate in his vicarage,
Enjoying my sweet twilight celebrity.)

(Cue “Guys & Dolls” soundtrack: “What's in the daily news?
I'll tell you what's in the daily news.”)
23: Beheaded at Nigerian Election Rally!
Amanda Knox Gets Away with ****** Again in Italy!
Kung Pow: Silicon Valley Penisocracy Crushes Ellen Pao
German Crash Dummy Co-pilot Flies Jet into the Alps!
Hilary’s Emails Are *****!
Sierra Leone Ebola Lockdown!
Iran: Kooks with Nukes!
Sri Lankan President’s Brother Dies from Ax Wounds!
Saudi Diplomats Evacuate Yemen!
Stampede at Hindu Bathing Ritual, Bangladesh Kills at Least 10!
Simply put:  THE WORLD IS IN A STATE OF ****.

Perhaps it’s time we turn again.
Seek solace in poetry—
“Yeah, chemistry,” insists my Sky Masterson,
My “Guys & Dolls” alter ago.
Surprised? You shouldn’t be.
All poets are gamblers & moonshiners.
We polish our chemical craft,
Sweet-talking the distillation apparatus,
Getting us, getting at linguistic essence.
Cunning linguists are we.
(Colonel Angus, are you back?)
Oyez! Oyez! The gavel raps:
“The Curious Case of Sam Hayakawa.”
We open this hearing to determine
Whether or not S.I. Hayakawa—guilty of
Numerous crimes against humanity & other
Professional Neo-Fascist “entrechats.”--
Whether or not he merits a kinder, gentler
Wikipedia BIO.
(Wikipedia ( i/ˌwɪkɨˈpiːdiə/ or  i/ˌwɪkiˈpiːdiə/ WIK-i-***-dee-ə) Wikipedia)
We open this forum, focusing on his
Courageous stand against the
SDS & Black Panthers, part of
An unlikely coalition: The Worker-Student Alliance
& It’s rival, Joe Hill Caucuses.
Da Name of the Place:
(“I like it like that!” Hot Chelle Rae-“I Like It Like That” lyrics| Metro Lyrics www.metrolyrics.com Lyrics to 'I Like It Like That' by Hot Chelle Rae. “Let's get it on, yeah, y'all can come along/Everybody drinks on me, buy out the bar /Just to feel like I'm.”)
The name of the place: San Francisco State,
1968-69, the longest student strike in U.S. history,
Led successfully to the creation of
Black & Other Ethnic studies programs
On campuses across the country,
And, one could argue,
Gave the green light to
Osama Hussein Obama,
Our first Uncle Tom President.
But I digress.

ACTING SFSU President, Dr. Hayakawa—
Perpetual audition, the pressure on,
Feisty, independent-minded & combative,
Screaming at that skeevy student mob:
(Skeevy as in “He bought the thing from
Some skeevy dude in an alley.")
Declaring “A State of Emergency,”
Calling in the SFPD, whose
Inexplicable slogan says”
“Oro en Paz,
Fierro en Guerra.”
Archaic Spanish for
Gold in peace,
Iron in war, by the by,
For you holdouts,
Those of you who still
Think the “English First Movement”
Breathes life still.
I’ve got more news for you:
That crusade died long ago,
Locked up, dark & shuttered,
Bank Repo thugs, their thick
Neck muscles flexing from side to side,
Sashaying across the parking lot,
Like John Wayne on steroids,
Right up to the front door.)
The SFPD: San Francisco city fuzz,
(As they were known at the time) &
The California National Guard, as well,
Obstreperously, generously catered by
Governor Ronald Wilson Reagan,
(Early stage, Alzheimer’s at the time.
But still very much “The Gypper,”
Still chipper in Sacramento.)
Ronnie--keenly interested in
The Eureka State’s congressional clout,
Lassoes a seat in the U.S. House of Lords:
AKA: The U.S. Senate, SPQR.
It’s still hard . . .

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Still hard to believe that California was once
Rock solid in the clutches of the GOP,
Gripped tightly in the Party’s
Desperate talons. But the grip slipped,
Slipped in the slip-sliding 1970s.
It got harder and harder . . .

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Harder and harder to remind
Leroy & the rest of his ebony posse,
That it was Abraham Lincoln—
“The Great Emancipator” himself—who was,
Our first Republican President.
The Emancipation Proclamation:
That toothless rhetorical flourish,
Based solely on Abe’s
Constitutional authority as
Commander-in-Chief,
Not on a law passed by Congress.
It was just Abe blowing smoke
Up their ***** again,
Just an egalitarian blast from
His Old Kentucky past,
A youth spent splitting rails,
Busting his *** just like
Any plantation ******,
A stark plebeian commonality,
Too deeply etched to be ignored.
Poor Abraham Lincoln:
Probably a **** Creek crypto-Jew,
Neutered by the opposition:
His very own Republican majority Congress,
Another example of the GOP
Shooting off its own foot, right up there
With Mitt Romney’s "47 percent of the people,”
The rhetorical gaffe which cost him his
Second & final shot at the White House.
But I digress.

Senator Sam S.I. Samuel Hayakawa:
That inscrutable Asian fixer, is now U.S. Senator,
Republican, California, 1976-83
Pulpit-bullying his Senate colleagues,
Fiercely opposed to transfer of the
Panama Canal & Panama Canal Zone to
Panama: a diplomatic no-brainer; Duh?
Their freaking name is on both of them.
Senator Sam, obstinate & blustering:
"We should keep the Panama Canal.
After all, we stole it fair and square.”
And Hayakawa, later the driving impetus
Behind the Far Right “English Only” movement.
His co-founding an "Official English"
Advocacy group, U.S. English;
Their party line summarizes their belief:
“The passage of English as the official language will help to expand opportunities for immigrants to learn and speak English, the single greatest empowering tool that immigrants must have to succeed."
That’s how they sold it, anyway.
In sooth: just old-fashioned nativist
Anti-immigration hysteria.

Hayakawa: always the high achiever.
Hayakawa: The Great Assimilator,
Preaching his xenophobic Gospel:
“Immigration Must Be Reduced!”
Aryan rhetoric, of course,
A bi-product of radical authoritarian nationalism,
A movement with deep American roots.
Senator Sam: a Japanese-Canadian-American,
Always tried too hard to fit in.
Sam, comfortable in Chicago during WWII,
Not personally subject to confinement,
Advocated that Japanese-Americans
Submit to FDR’s 1942, Executive Order 9066.
“Time in camp, will eventually work to Japanese advantage."
Later, during the Congressional debate over
The Civil Liberties Act of 1988 . . .
(Passed the House on September 17, 1987 (243–141)
Passed the Senate on April 20, 1988 (69–27, in lieu of S. 1009)
Reported by the joint conference committee on July 26, 1988,
Agreed to by the Senate on July 27, 1988 (voice vote) and
By the House on August 4, 1988 (257–156,
Signed into law by President Ronald Reagan 8/10/88.
He opposed $reparations for WWII internment:
“Japanese-Americans should not
Be paid for fulfilling their obligations."
Some guys, I guess, would say, or
Do anything for Bohemia Club membership.
Plagued by night terrors, nonetheless,
His Manzanar nightmares, his vivid
Imaginary experience at other Japanese
Internment Sites: Tule Lake & Camp Rohwer.
Stalag (German pronunciation: [ˈʃtalak])
Stalags, infamous still,
“Stalags ‘R Us,”
Still palpable memories for
Issei ("first generation")
& Nisei ("second generation").
See: 323 U.S. 214. Korematsu v. United States
(No. 22: Argued: October 11, 12, 1944.
Decided: December 18, 1944.140 F.2d 289.
The opinion, written by Hugo Black,
Chief Justice Harlan Stone, Presiding.)

Hayakawa: a strange duck, of course,
But we mustn’t ignore his strong credentials,
And I’d like to disabuse anyone here
Of the notion that it was anything
Other than his academic record
That got his case to this Forum.
Oyez! Oyez! The gavel raps:
“The Curious Case of Sam Hayakawa.”
So begins this fractured Pardoner’s Tale,
This petition for forgiveness,
The Capo di Tutti Capi,
Presiding: the original Italian mafioso,
His Eminence--the Vicar of Jesus Christ,
The Supreme Pontiff
Pope Paparazzi of Rome!
Roma: the only venue large enough to
Dispense dispensation of this magnitude.

Hayakawa: everyone says his C.V. is “impeccable.”
But did anyone ever freaking Google it?
Just where did Professor Sam go to school?
Undergrad? The University of Manitoba,
Truly, by any Third World Standard
A great bastion of intellectual rigor;
Grad school? McGill and U Wisconsin-Madison.
He was a Canadian by birth,
His academic discipline was Semantics.
(As in “That’s just semantics,”
That all-purpose rejoinder in any argument.)
Professor Hayakawa, The Semanticist,
He taught us: “All thought is sub-vocal speech.”

•  The Use and Misuse of Language: S. I. Hayakawa: Amazon ... www.amazon.com/The-Use-Misuse-Language.../B000... Amazon.com, Inc. The Use and Misuse of Language [S. I. Hayakawa] on Amazon.com. FREE shipping on qualifying offers.
  
Hmmm? We think in words.
The medium of thought is language.
If you grok this for the first time,
Let’s stop to celebrate our enlightenment,
With a cultural nod of respect,
We salute our Islamic brethren.
Radical Islam: the new bogeyman,
Responsible for keeping lights on in Alexandria,
Paying the defense & intelligence bills,
Sustaining that sinister
Military-Industrial complex
Ike warned us about.
Hang in there, Mustafa, old buddy.
Like the Cold War, this insanity
Will eventually blow over.
Orwell’s Oceania will reshuffle
Its deck of global grab-***, and a
New enemy will suddenly appear.
Big Brother, as always,
In the full-control mode,
Simply put: on top of the situation.
So Hurrah!
Allāhu Akbar. “God is Great!
The Takbīr (the term for the
Arabic phrase: usually translated as
"God is [the] greatest.")

“All thought is sub-vocal speech.”
What a simple, yet profound insight!
Just a short hop, skip & jump to the
Realization that, perhaps, the clarity
& Power of our minds can be groomed,
Improved upon by mastery of—
In Sam’s case, anyway--the English Language.
Was this, perhaps, the germ of U.S. English,
The political lobbying organization
He co-founded, dedicated to making
English, the official language of the United States.
Hayakawa: a wooly conservative of his own design;
No wonder Governor Reagan loved him.

Dr. S.I. Hayakawa, a colorful and polarizing
Figure in California politics during the 1960s and 70s.
Can we forgive his daily afternoon naps.
Asleep on the floor of the U.S. Senate,
Leaving California so pathetically,
So ostensibly under-represented.
Senator Sam’s comatose presence at
Washington-on Potomac; the
District of Columbia.
A long time ago,
In a distant galaxy . . .
Far, far away.

TEAR GAS.
Alas, long before he got to Washington,
Long before ever setting foot off campus,
He called for tear gas to
Disperse those pesky college kids.
I repeat myself for emphasis:
He authorized the use of tear gas at SF State.
Tear gas: a lachrymatory agent?
Actually, a potentially lethal
Chemical agent . . .
(Yeah, Chemistry!
To wit: Sgt. Sara Brown,
Referencing “Guys & Dolls” again.)
Outlawed for use during wartime,
Banned in international warfare
Under both the 1925 Geneva Protocol; & the
Chemical Weapons Convention;
“Tear gas:  a weapon of war against
The people. We believe that
Tear gas remains a chemical weapon
Whether used on a battlefield, or city streets.”

Thus, history will be your judge,
You unleashed tear gas on college kids,
So I wouldn’t expect a rep makeover
Any time soon, Ichiye-san, my ichiban friend.
The critical reviews are in.  It looks as though Socialist Heroes will not become a Broadway play.  The following comments concerning the desirability of socialism were gleaned from the Facebook page of the National Liberty Federation.  Group members indicate a resounding thumbs down on the idea of socialism.  

Popular comments from the Facebook group include:
Kool aid drinking
Semper Fi
Following Gunny to Hell and Back
Lots of Good Gunnys out there
Obama’s socialism must be stopped
I’d rather die than live under communism
Join the Infidel Brotherhood
Ted Cruz, just love that guy
Stock Up on Guns and Bullets
Greece invented democracy and they haven't used it for years
Jesus is coming to destroy the Anti-Christ
there are a lot of ******* out there posing as americans

The passionate posts and learned comments from the Facebook group members of the The National Liberty Federation follow in all its grammatical and misspelled glory.  All comments from the public group are posted verbatim….

(Editorial Note: The link to the Infidel Brotherhood was redacted.  The Editor wants no role in promoting neo-fascist vitriol. )

Thanks!


National Liberty Federation
Like This Page · 11 hours ago
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Top Comments
4,560 people like this.
2,627 shares

Eddie *******Where's MY koolaid!
Like · Reply · 9 hours ago

Charles Noftsker Semper Fi!!!!!!!!!
Like · Reply · 175 · 11 hours ago via mobile

Justin P. Emery Semper Fi, my Brother
Like · 13 · 11 hours ago

National Liberty Federation Semper Fi!!! 0311 here
Like · 9 · 11 hours ago

Justin P. Emery 3521 listed... but did whatever the hell my Gunny told me to do lol
Like · 5 · 10 hours ago

National Liberty Federation there are a lot of good gunny's out there.
Like · 2 · 10 hours ago

Justin P. Emery Yeah... Gunny's you'll follow through Hell and back
Like · 2 · 10 hours ago

Kathy Stephens Grant We have our future generations to think about!
Like · Reply · 172 · 11 hours ago
7 Replies · about an hour ago

Clint ****** I am on the right side which is I am an American and I do not want obamas socialism
Like · Reply · 11 · 11 hours ago

Joyce Tidwell Burns Backing Americans into a corner is never a good idea. Bad thing is both sides are ready and if this crap starts its gonna be very very bad...
Like · Reply · 9 · 11 hours ago via mobile

Jim Blackwell I may be getting to old to fight but I still shoot straight. Just set me on a bucket behind a bush on a hill and I will just pick them off one at a time until I get all of them or they get me. I would rather die free than to live under communism.
Like · Reply · 14 · 10 hours ago

William Slingo I"m with ya Jim. I'm too old and crippled to be a soldier but I never planned on dying alone if ya know what I mean........
Like · 1 · 8 hours ago

Susannah Fedders I'm 60yr.old female with 4 Grand Son's I'm ready to do what is necessary to take our country back,for my Grandchildren.
Like · Reply · 10 · 11 hours ago

Robert Haller To coin a phrase, I regret I only have one life to give to my country. I will give all that I have and until my last breath to defend this country. Semper Fi.
Like · Reply · 4 · 10 hours ago · Edited

Michael Knorr even some civilians will fight that!
Like · Reply · 3 · 11 hours ago

Adam Capi This generation of young voters and first time voters Proves americans are Plain Stupid
Like · Reply · 4 · 11 hours ago

Andrea Gardner Ahhhhhh....Social Security? How about we get past the labels and just do what's right for the people instead of the rich Plutocrats who have managed to take over our Government. Our Politicians are nothing more than prostitutes sold to the highest bidder.
Like · Reply · 7 · 5 hours ago via mobile

Alice Shinn I may be old, 67 years young. I am disgusted with our country. I know that I am not alone. My friends and family cannot believe what our congress has let laws pass, that are not equal under the law..
Like · Reply · 2 · 9 hours ago

Savi Braun Then get it back!!!
Like · Reply · 2 · 11 hours ago

Leslee C. Carles you can help too!
Like · 10 hours ago

Diana McGowan Nelson I totally cannot understand how many people don't see what this man in doing. By the time they open their eyes, it will probably be too late.
Like · Reply · 2 · 7 hours ago

Brian Chaline Please help us reach 900 likes.
(link to Infidel Brotherhood redacted)
Thanks!

The Infidel Brotherhood
The Infidel Brotherhood is a group established to promote education,warning andunderstanding of the danger involved in the spread of Islam. The twisted Sharia Laws and Ideologies that Muslims are using against Non-Muslims, women and childern.
Community: 921 like this
Like · Reply · 3 · 9 hours ago via mobile

Dale Rumley I am gonna fight till death for it. I with Jim Blackwell. The longer the shot the better!!!!
Like · Reply · 3 · 10 hours ago via mobile

Bettie Stanley Amen
Like · Reply · 2 · 10 hours ago

Nancy Jacobson I am with you .
Like · Reply · 2 · 11 hours ago

Marino Fernandez I wish this was true, pray that America wakes up to reality, and the mistakes it has made in the last two elections.
Like · Reply · 1 · 50 minutes ago

Jule Spohn Semper Fi!!! Jule Spohn - Sgt- USMC - 1960/66
Like · Reply · 1 · 9 hours ago

Savi Braun Everyone needs to help get our country back
Like · Reply · 1 · 10 hours ago via mobile

La Fern Landtroop Praying that God helps America !
Like · Reply · 1 · 3 hours ago via mobile

Terri Britt Smith Read Senator Ted Cruz last post.... gotta love that guy!!
Like · Reply · 1 · 5 hours ago

FJay Harrell Yes it will. The Boomers will not give up their party.
Like · Reply · 2 · 8 hours ago

Vanessa Mason Be careful in Obama Care they come after your children because of your military training, read up on it, it starts with home visits. I salute all military, and Thank you too.
Like · Reply · 1 · 10 hours ago

Lois F. Neway Semper Fi ......We have our future generations to think about!
Like · Reply · 1 · 10 hours ago

Joe Riggio Nor will mine....Semper Fi!!!
Like · Reply · 1 · 11 hours ago

Michael Coulter oorah!!!
Like · Reply · 2 · 11 hours ago

Joyce Ballard I pray this is right.
Like · Reply · 2 · 11 hours ago

Billy Wells I pray that you are right!!
Like · Reply · 10 hours ago

Carmita Depasquale Semper Fi, indeed and thank you for ALL that you do..God bless and God speed!
Like · Reply · about an hour ago

Rose M D'Amico I pray not....the young ones must be strong & we seniors will help when we can!
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Nathan Gartee I stand beside my fellow americans to FIGHT for FREEDOM !!!
Like · Reply · 10 hours ago

Thomas P Zambelli oh hell no!
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Marvin Moe Mosley Let's hope they stand up and be counted
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Bill Yeater gonna be a near thing
Like · Reply · 11 minutes ago

Dante Antiporda Obama's socialism will never happen in the US, if only its citizen will use their PEOPLE POWER a mass action together without FEAR and gun fired and NO BULLET hurt anyone.
Like · Reply · 34 minutes ago

Diane Stevens Abernathy Too late.
Like · Reply · 44 minutes ago

Chuck N Marv Pelfrey AMEN!! AGREE!!
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Jane Garrett Amen
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Sandy Thorne You got that right.
Like · Reply · 5 hours ago

Jane Hanson GOOD FOR YOU.
Like · Reply · 10 hours ago

Buck Wheat **** near already there
Like · Reply · 3 · 11 hours ago

Carol Lowell Already happening,
Like · Reply · 14 minutes ago

Ellen Aaron I surely hope not, but it's not looking good, right now...
Like · Reply · 16 minutes ago

Timothy Tremblay It would be a cold day in hell
Like · Reply · 18 minutes ago

Peter Krause Not without a major fight...
Like · Reply · 25 minutes ago

Mike Beakley You are a stupid person.
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago via mobile

Anibal Gonzalez Jr. I hope. And trust.
Like · Reply · 1 · 2 hours ago

George P Palmer Well son you better get off your *** cause I am one of last of the grate generation..
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Steven Canzonetta I don't think you people know what socialism is, take a civics class. Not mention democracy has been around for thousands of years, and the country that invented it (Greece) hasn't used it in century's. Shouldn't that tell you something?!
Like · Reply · 1 · 3 hours ago via mobile

Kenneth Chartrand we sure hope but there are a lot of ******* out there posing as americans
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Ann Morse unfortunately, we already have...
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Robert Dixon Aim High and I agree with you

Steven Canzonetta I don't think you people know what socialism is, take a civics class. Not mention democracy has been around for thousands of years, and the country that invented it (Greece) hasn't used it in century's. Shouldn't that tell you something?!
Like · Reply · 1 · 3 hours ago via mobile

Kenneth Chartrand we sure hope but there are a lot of ******* out there posing as americans
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Ann Morse unfortunately, we already have...
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Robert Dixon Aim High and I agree with you
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Deb Siener I wish but think it is already too late to take our country back
Like · Reply · 4 hours ago

Code Jah Capitalism, socialism, fascism and all the other ism's have all failed. They're all corrupt and unequal. No sense using any of that crap anymore, its a round world with unlimited potential. Why not start something new that works well for everyone not just a handful of industrialist pigs?
Like · Reply · 1 · 7 hours ago

Marco Moore are future
Like · Reply · 7 hours ago

Lydia Perez-Cruz If we don't want this, Everyone better Wake Up and put a Stop to it!!!!
Like · Reply · 9 hours ago

Terry Maeker Thank you!!
Like · Reply · 9 hours ago via mobile

Gayle Wright I AGREE
Like · Reply · 9 hours ago

Glen Dauphin Too late! All we can do is take it back now.
Like · Reply · 1 · 11 hours ago via mobile

Ruth E. Brown It's never too late. We stood by and allowed this to happen, so it's up to us to fix it.
Like · Reply · 1 · 5 hours ago via mobile

Michael Therrien Socialism? Really you folks need a dictionary. Socialism is not the same as Communism. Socialism is not the same as Fascism. Most democracies in the world operate under the banner of socialism. So stop getting your patriotism mixed up with fighting socialism. It has NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. And you gunners yeah... Your JOB IS DEFEND THE PRESIDENT not the politics. How is that going?
Like · Reply · 1 · 5 hours ago · Edited

Kathy Williams What are you going to do to keep obama from turning this country into SOCIALISM ?? We and congress just sit on our hands and expect God to do the work ????
Like · Reply · 1 · 53 minutes ago

Nancy Anderson Makes me glad I don't have kids.
Like · Reply · 1 · 11 hours ago · Edited

RoyLee Clouse Jr. AMEN!
Like · Reply · 4 minutes ago

Cherrie Fields Collins United we stand!
Like · Reply · 5 minutes ago

Pamela Lowry we need to fight
Like · Reply · 15 minutes ago

Jorge Alvarado I challenge you all to write your representatives, and demand change. Make a promise, if you see no change to vote out those representatives. When you are finished writing, go out to the corner of your street and hold up signs, advising others to do the same. Change starts while on your feet!!!
Like · Reply · 44 minutes ago via mobile

Humberto Gonzalez never
Like · Reply · 45 minutes ago

Robert Wilkins You elected a Socialist loser as president, twice! So yes, you are the generation whose stupidity and intellectual sloth let America fall to a bunch of two-bit dictators. Hope you're all proud of yourselves.
Like · Reply · about an hour ago

ColleenLee Johnson Sure hope this is the case - we have two years or less....
Like · Reply · about an hour ago via mobile

Darlene Nelson Stand up America if you love this country.
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Jole Workman too late!
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Pete Johnson Our grandfather's generation already did it when they elected Woodrow Wilson.
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G Cindy Albe u are RIGHT about that!!!
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Lynn Stacey Amen
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Mary Labonte If we must go down it will be one hell of a fight!!!
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Emma Joyce Wolfe THANK YOU
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Charles Twentier Someone please tell our country is under attack from inside and we need them to do what thier signs before it is too lat for us and them .
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Patsy McMillian Hartley Hope so.
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Ron Hendrix Keep Communist Cuban Guerillas out of the Senate and the spotlight.
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Matthew Keenan We already did!http://www.foxnews.com/.../
Why ObamaCare is a fantastic success
www.foxnews.com
There are 2 major political parties in America.
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Maryann Del Giorno Avella amen
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Selena Ervin i think we are almost there
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Rhoda Dietz we better all do smthing to stop it
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Todd Mcdonald What about Fascism
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago via mobile

Steven Canzonetta Richard A Haines, I see you posted the Mayflower compact. I believe the constitution trumps the compact, especially seperation of church and state. Also " one nation under god" was added to the pledge in the '50s as an anti communism campaign after WW2. Its not an American value, because we are suposed to respect all religeon, and keep it out of social policy. Maby your not an American, since you cant keep your dogma out of our government.
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Harry Mundy Socialism is a rolling snowball gaining size and momentum as it rolls downhill! Let's hope it can be stopped or impeded, but as it is rolling, more and more people jump aboard to benefit from the free ride!!!!
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Gary Carte With you all the way.
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Isaac Tedford Pookey! Let's bring this mother down!
Like · Reply · 4 hours ago

Else Mccomb God bless you all...
Like · Reply · 4 hours ago

John MacDonald IN GOD WE TRUST
Like · Reply · 4 hours ago

Byron Lee you better hurry then ---the ******* are gainigng on us!!!!!
Like · Reply · 4 hours ago

Justin Klimas HOOAH!!!!!!!!!!
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Joseph Ball Hell yeah
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106 of 172
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David Patton Arm yourselfs now and buy plenty of ammo, you will need it one day.
Like · Reply · 8 hours ago

Lucretia Landrum Amen !
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Lucretia Landrum Amen
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John Payne that right!!
Like · Reply · 8 hours ago

Little Eagle ****** McGowan No you too busy falling TO STUPIDITY.
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Carol Pinard Ummmm what obama is doing to our country in not socialism..... it is awful and shameful but it is not socialism. Do research on what socialism is supposed to be and not just what it became in the hands of evil people.
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Tim Veach Too late.
Like · Reply · 10 hours ago

Pam McBride Don't want it to be.
Like · Reply · 10 hours ago

Kathryn Seelmeyer RIGHT!
Like · Reply · 10 hours ago

Kim Janics my mom would love you but we are slowly have been going toward that direction since the beginning of governments.....yes even america
Like · Reply · 10 hours ago · Edited

DeAnna Stone already happening
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Irene Lopez Nice
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Scott Puttkamer A lil late I think! Obama has already done it!!!!!!!!
Like · Reply · 11 hours ago

Jimmy Oakes 2nd that!
Like · Reply · 11 hours ago

Diane Kelham OORAH....
Like · Reply · 2 hours ago

Tami Stanley Perkins Amen to that!!!!!! From one vet to millions of others, we shall rise to the occasion and fight here on our own land to remove a dictator!!!!!
Like · Reply · 3 hours ago

Fran Gordon Benz Not if I can help it! I see people reaching a boiling point!! Something is going to happen! I'm sensing the anger and frustration!
Like · Reply · 9 hours ago via mobile

Bob D. Beach Right!
Like · Reply · 4 minutes ago

Annie Graham Which generation would that be.....the one that 'allowed' SS, medicare, Medicaid, fire, police, parks, roads, education etc...?
Like · Reply · 35 minutes ago

Kassandra Craig then we need to get rid of obama
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Tony Horton By Ballots or bull
A bicycle is the most efficient transportation machine.  A little input and I’m gliding, moving a useful measurable distance but more than that. I like going fast enough so the wind in my ears is louder than my thoughts.  On a tough day I like riding until I can be grateful again; sometimes that takes a couple hours but every ride is a good ride.

My youth’s independence was a banana seat Huffy pulled from an under-appreciated pile of rust in the back of St. Vincent’s Thrift Shop.  No school bus meant riding to school, the first 45 minutes of every day in all weather. Afternoons were exploring detours; summers were expeditions to the city limits, sometimes beyond.  I needed an upgrade for high school; I found a spotless antique 3 speed Raleigh, the cultural English workhorse collecting dust in an unlikely garage for $50.

I kept it through two foster homes. The first one kept me busy with farm chores, but the second was back in town. There, I had the bike back, and as an aside, they had a phenomenally sophisticated wall sized sound system: reel-to-reel and amazing headphones. I would forget myself in records: Sgt. Peppers, Genesis, Yes, etc, and another favorite. Just a guitar and piano instrumental album with a simple melody called Bricklayer’s Beautiful Daughter. Something about that one song in particular I heard faint glimmerings of contentment that was denied to me.  I would replay it to cling to this hint of a simple happiness I didn’t understand; that if it was in the song, it was somewhere deep in me.
Without a car for 10 years, one used 10-speed or another got me to various eccentric jobs.  

Fast forward to the life-changer, after a divorce. Needing to reconnect with myself, I searched for a decent bike. I found it hanging dusty in the back of a cluttered boutique shop smelling of tire rubber, quiet with racers’ confidence. They had a Lemond thoroughbred on consignment, assembled custom 5 years earlier to race. It was slightly outdated, but a dent on the top tube put it out to pasture. It was steel though, so rideable enough for me.  My entire $300 savings and it was mine. Then I discovered the special pedals needed special shoes, so another month saving for those.  I wasn’t going to wear those silly spiderman outfits, until I started to ride more than 10 miles and my **** demanded it.  And those pockets in the back of the shirt were handy.  I met a friend who taught me how to draft: my skinny wheel a few inches behind the bike in front at 20 mph, to save precious energy in the slipstream. Truly dangerous, vulnerable, and effectively blinded; but he pointed at the ground with various hand signals to warn of upcoming road hazards. I was touched by this wordless language of trust and camaraderie. This innate concern is essential to the sport, even among competitors, so it seems to attract quality people I liked.  My new life expanded with friends.

I discovered biking exercise could stabilize the life-long effects of brain injury, lost some weight, grew stronger, and started setting goals.  First longer group rides, then a century (100 miles in one ride), then mountain biking: epic fun in nature, unadulterated happiness.  Then novice racing, then the next category up with a team, then a triathlon.  It became an admitted obsession but I won a pair of socks or bike parts every now and then.  Eventually tattooed two bike chains around my ankle, one twisted and the other broken.  I loved the lifestyle, and had truly reinvented and rediscovered myself.

A 500 mile ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles with fellow wounded veterans helped dissipate the old shame from the military.  I had joined the ride to raise money for a good cause.  I respected the program and knew personally that cycling had changed my life.  They turned out to be inspiring, helping me more than I could have helped them.  Some had only just started riding a bike for only a few weeks, some were amputees fit with special-made adapters on regular bikes, some had no legs using hand cycles.  They all joined on to the task of riding 500 miles. No one whined, and helping each other finish the day was the only goal.  While riding with them, I began to open up about my experience.  I found a few others who also had TBI, and we could laugh about similar mishaps.  The other veterans didn’t judge me about anything, like when I was injured, the nature of my disability, how much I did or didn’t accomplish. I had signed up just like them, had to recover back to a functioning life just like them.  It was the first time in my life that whole chapter in my life was accepted; I wasn't odd, and they helped close the shame on that old chapter.  (Thank you, R2R.)  The next year I took a 1500 mile self-supported bike trip through western mountain ranges with my husband and soulmate, whom I had met mt. biking.

There was one late Spring day, finally warm after a long winter, when I just wanted to ride for a few hours by myself.  No speedometer or training intervals, just enjoy the park road winding under the trees. I had downloaded some new music on the IPod, a sampler from the library.  I felt happy.  Life is Good.  Rounding a bend by the river, coasting through sunbeams sparkling the park’s peaceful road, my earphones unexpectedly played Bricklayer’s Beautiful Daughter.  I hadn’t heard that simple guitar tune in three decades.  My God, time suddenly disappeared.  I was right back in the forgotten foster home, listening for the faint silver threads of the contentment I was feeling at this very moment on the bike.  The full force of this sudden connection, the wholeness of the life and unity of myself in one epiphany, brought me to tears. I found myself pouring my heart into praying hang in there, girl, hang in there, you’ll find it and I felt my younger self hearing echoes of birds singing in new green leaves.
Jonny Angel Dec 2013
Sgt. Jack came back
from overseas
and he didn’t give one.
He’d sit outside his backdoor
for hours popping caps,
swilling cheap beer,
smoking Camels
with his rifle at the ready nearby,
a forty-five in his belt.

He’d yell at his dog constantly,
expecting it to respond
in a friendly manner,
but the rocks
he had thrown at it
over time
had spooked it
into a submissive role.

He never said much,
just stared,
stared with wild blood-shot eyes
that darted to and fro into space.
He’d nervously look at the horizon
as if something was always about to happen.
His favorite line was,
“Lock and loaded, let’s move.”
And when a car would backfire,
he’d scream, “Incoming!”

His wife left him for his best friend,
his kids never came back around,
and his dog died without him moving a muscle.
The ****** thing decomposed
right out in the middle of his backyard.
I guess he was used to
the sweet smell of death.
A character poem based on real events.
Chris D Aechtner Apr 2022
(snottah poem)

In full disclosure that the following expressions are based on conjecture, I want to add my own COVID-19 mythology into the mix.

I will use method acting to become immersed in a mythological character who has the desire to thwart the Moderna & Pfizer COVID-19 mRNA SGT intramuscular injections with a multi-drug-resistant & COVID-19 mRNA genetic therapeutic-resistant SCoV2 variation that people label erroneously, as: Omicron.

Not only do I—the mythological character—desire to thwart the Moderna & Pfizer COVID-19 mRNA SGT intramuscular injections, I want to protect the "unvaccinated".
Within that hypothetical, mythological scenario, I know that the COVID-19 mRNA SGT intramuscular injections can cause specific types of immune white blood cells to become transfected & die, & that COVID-19 mRNA injected hosts shed extremely harmful, artificially-elicited SCoV2 Alpha B.1.1.7 variation S glycoproteins that can harm the "unvaccinated". The "unvaccinated" already have enough to deal with, as is, especially as many of the "vaccinated" seem to become more socially tyrannical towards the "unvaccinated"—& in general—with each new "booster" received.

Aside from causing "Omicron" to become multi-drug-resistant, & COVID-19 mRNA genetic therapeutic-resistant, in my interest to protect the "unvaccinated" from the more potentially dire effects of "Omicron" infection, one of my main points of interest with "Omicron" is to edit a non-linear sublineage "Omicron" variation progenitor in a way that disables its ability to infect immune white blood cells via their LFA-1 receptors in order that "Omicron" infection doesn't cause a form of AIDS in the "unvaccinated". The mythological character, that is I, desires for some **** sapiens to survive the Transhumanist COVID-19 Great Reset agenda with as much of their original DNA intact as possible.
Another main point of interest of mine is to design "Omicron" to be extremely transmissable.

After having successfully designed my Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley-inspired Frankenstein's Chimera, "Omicron" doesn't leak from my laboratory settings. No! I spread the sizzling-hot, gorgeous Promethean Flame. Lab leaks are for the reckless without a good cause.

Upon hearing that my arch nemesis, Herr Doktor Fauci, whom I've loathed since 1994, will be participating in a fake-science awards ceremony in South Africa in the near future, I get an accomplice to fly me to South Africa in his private jet.
During the flight, I lovingly caress the portable cooling box situated beside me, in which is stored my greatest design—the checkmate that will help topple the abomination: The One-Eyed Technocratic Tower of Moderna & Pfizer COVID-19 Synthetic mRNA Genetic Therapeutic.

After landing in South Africa, I arrive at the outdoor fake-science awards ceremony with 1 minute to spare before it commences. I stand at the back of the crowd that surrounds the open-air dias upon which stands my arch nemesis with a gloating, malignant smile on his face.
While focused on Herr Doktor Fauci's rat-like face, I release my beloved creation, with a blown kiss, onto the swirling warm air of South Africa.

The atmosphere works divinely for the release of "Omicron" in South Africa. When news of my creation's arrival breaks, a main group of the world's population leans towards theories, hypotheses, & narratives of "host variant spin-off", & another main group leans towards theories, hypotheses, & narratives of lab leak, as the particular area of South Africa in question is sprinkled with biolabs that are involved in coronavirus research. Perfect.

Another variable leads many people away from the Least Trodden Path that meanders between the extremes of science & religion:
There are known "Omicron" variations in North America that pre-date my greatest design.

Via the use of my accomplice's private jet, I spread "Omicron BA.1" (that I dubbed, as: Omegatron 7.2) throughout the continents. I begin to spread some misinformation & disinformation on social media, such as,
"The Omicron variant is a hoax, a mythological cover (which it often is) for the adverse effects & events that are caused from the COVID-19 mRNA SGT intramuscular injections."

I don't own a white hat. I'm a red magician.
March 29, 2022
Vidya Jul 2012
Last someday I told him you know soldier you gotta stop saying please. You gotta pull the punches like get off your knees and onto your head and roll away laughing in cartwheels. Get your shoes shined your collar pressed your dogs walked, your **** ****** by women who will tell you they think you’re a riot sort of. Gotta stop counting the ghosts in the hall and the pills every week and the calories burned and the blessings. Eventually you will learn to tie your own **** tie but you’re proud of rolling your own cigars, you’re proud of remembering to water the calla lily on the windowsill. You’ve forgotten most of what you’ve read. You can’t remember the news from yesterday or was it the day before did one of the neighborhood kids get shot or did we go to war again, maybe it doesn’t really matter. Haven’t had a fruit juicy enough in six years and you gotta find a tropical country where the papayas and the sunshine make you melt into puddles and you are the rainy season, you roll ominously overhead. You think you’ll stop staying at the Ritz-Carlton on business trips, you think you’ll check into the Super 8 at three forty-two a.m. and when you open the door the ashtray’s full and there’s *** caked on the wall. When you go to the bar you keep forgetting you want a shot of bourbon or maybe a double of Scotch and you order a g&t; instead. The clouds stay grey and the sky stays tearstained. You remember playing tennis and skinning your knee when you were seven, you remember grinning the widest when you had lost your front teeth. You don’t own a single photo album. In spring when the flowers start to bloom you think you ought to have a daughter so you can read her Maurice Sendak. You’ll get shampoo in her eyes and she’ll be cross, and she’ll only forgive you when you tell her that story your college friends are all tired of by now. You have those thoughts and then you remember to wash your hands. But I said yes gotta stop being a yes-man because that turns into I do and then where are you, on the altar with the sacrificial lamb and a woman and when you slip the ring onto her finger and say this isn’t funny she says you’re a riot sort of. You wanna make it here, then you better learn to eat the locusts and ride a camel and not get angry with the scorpion in your underpants. You don’t get angry, you gotta squish his head between thumb and forefinger before he manages to jab your pecker. You are fifty-two. You don’t feel fifty-two. You don’t feel anything other than maybe an intense dislike for carob bean. You were told to be on the lookout so I said to him I said.
Sa Sa Ra Sep 2013
The Beatles - I Am The Walrus (Freaky Rare Version)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIXEUcrUCtI

Strawberry Fields Forever
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9r4mJ3aEhHo

Magical Mystery Tour
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqb_fJd-GVs

We Can Work It Out
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g--Vlij1X1Y

MLK's Last Speech
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aL4FOvIf7G8

The Fool On The Hill
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDtK7xUIDxk

How Long? Not Long!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAYITODNvlM

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I Have Been To The Mountaintop
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nL5vJKXzOrI

Sgt Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xj2bmQ4P4cM
Steve D'Beard Jun 2014
Tethers that prevent flight
from shaken swollen tears
feathers spent in woeful plight
and a snipers cross-hair sight
amid muffled explosive cheers

Brothers in Arms
never lost to forgotten years
and the sound of a distant gunshot
is all that he hears.

R.I.P. Sgt L.J.
ode to a good friend killed in combat
Iraq 2004
Today would've been his birthday
Johnny Zhivago Jun 2013
mr moonlight
mr nowhere
maxwell edison
mr jones

dr robert
sgt pepper
mr kite, bb king
edgar allen poe

walter raleigh
mat busby
the hendersons
and maggie mae

mr mustard
captain marvel
rita lucy jojo
vera chuck and dave

mother nature
polethene pam
mr heath doris day
and buffalo bill

loretta martin
**** sadie
hey jude eggman
my michelle

rigby            and pilchard
or elenor      and semolina
took father  mckenzie
too see a dancing horse

henry       his name was
rocky       raccoon was there
prudence rode elephant
to the i me mine waltz
---
There gonna crucify me
the way things go
christ it aint easy
the next day dont know

you know the walrus was paul man
johns bird can sing
george was a genie
ringo wore a ring

but paul is dead now
george stole his soul
john is alive though
ringos in a hole

her royal highness the tax man
commit the perfect crime
she asked for more
with a belly full of wine
In a desperate attempt to  save hello  from near destruction the evil man ****** but yet charming in all togather strange way.
Elliot had a moment of true brillance   To get the anchors of hello togather  in a nice beach house.
Okay it  was a soon to be condemed rat trap hotel  on the Jersy shore and film it.

My worries were alerted already  for I was  really  wasnt up for making a **** .
Who am i kidding  sure i am.
But like when momma  gonzo told me that fat *****  in the red suit
wasnt really santa  just a child  molester.
I was wondering why santa  was  giving out candy in july
And why that candy cane was never in his pocket .
So the **** thing was off  it was to be a reallity show.

Freee ***** a chance to act up like a three year old hyped up on cookies    and crystal **** or whatever the kids were into these days.
They had me  sold so like a flock of segulls we ran   we ran so far away  eventhough  probation  said no my    gonzo sense said yes hey  lindsy lohan told me it sounded like  great idea  and who can argue with a crazy coke head.  

So we gathred in the bleek hope of saving hello from total boredom  and thoose hiku  writting nazis   from poetry soup.
Jack, Baths, Chris,Eileen,Gary,Paula,And that ***** Gonzo  
really  im so insecure  must just be that time of the month.

The rooms reminded me as a cross between the bates motel
and something outta the shining yes charming indeed.
We had the top floor  I always liked being on top but enough with the
forplay children.

The rooms  were picked  okay guys over there   girls come with me it was worth a try.  
The rooms were picked the honey moon suite  
going to me and Jack   ahh ****    there were strobe lights  stripper pole heart shapped  hot tub   jesus it was like  elton john had thrown  up in here  at least it smelled like it.

elliot had made it clear the bar tab was on us but knowing what a true sweetheart  he was he had somehow  left me his credit card
in my wallet maybe without knowing it.

One thing bout  are weird kinda umm  well  funny smelling digs  
there was a true blessing there  a bar   for what is a gonzo without his bar   much like a samuri  without his sword or a mean twig model without her cellphone  to throw  and finger to put down her throat to puke   memories   all alone in the moonlight dam you cats.

With some simple calls  the party was in full swing  and are shuttle bus slash   pinto had us at the hotest club slash retirement  home.
The music blasting so low as to not cause   bowel problems.
Me and Chris showing the old farts  how to play beer pong.
Missed shot  drink up grandma and please put your clothes on
****** you gravity.

Jack  kept the dance floor jumping  with his  fake mustache  little captians hat   and some other leather gear  once told me one thing that ****** was fahasion forward  you go girl.

Paula, Baths and Eileen   worked the newly  started  card game. You dont know how to gamble?  
Well are girls are happy to show ya gramps
Gary had disapeared  to the rest room  for some odd reason.
How he did put a smile on thoose  old ladies faces  seinor care
aint it grand they were were just glowing  what a odd place to be giving reading.

After we had hustled i mean  helped thoose old folks outta there life savings  it was time to party  really  they were almost dead  anyways
and a  funeral plot is overrated   just do what my  uncle did with his ex wife  tell everyone  one she went on vacation and bury her in backyard.

I'll never go tressure hunting again.
We hit the club like  like a hurricane that was laced with wild turkey   and   and a few rational thoughts.

The night was magic   for the money dissappeared   in seconds so like  any broke ***  writers  would do when facing  a fifteen thousand dollar bar tab.
We got the **** outta there.
Thank  god for a restroom window never mind me miss
im with security  and may i say you have a great rack.

The hotel reaked of mayhem and  a old winos ****  and maybe a dead
corpse or two.
HaAHahaha they'll never find you Drew.

It was like the cover of Sgt  Pepers lonley hearts club band  you know by   that classic group the backstreet boys.  
Yes drinking it doesnt effect the mind at all   now who the **** are you?

Dwarfs  junkies   men wearing sailors hats and **** straps did Jack have a dance  troupe?
Hookers drag queens  holy bat crap wonder woman   Lady Ga Ga.
Seems she had crashed into are pinto parked in the the street ******   Chris  i told you park it on the side walk  like me.

Jack  as  if  in a trance  was on stage with the  space alien ******
known as Ga Ga   it was a match made in a state   thats probaly filled with crazy people  like  Utah  or Canada.
Okay im kidding i love Canada  and i just learned it's a country
oh no wonder they hay have fences  I just thought they was a gated  community.  

Paula hit the floor after her third drink   and would probaly question   why somone  had written this space for rent  on her forehead
But like a true man that i was i would  blame that on Gary.

Chris and Eileen  danced laughed I had this odd feeling they were close   as Baths replied no **** sherlock  now pour me another  wine
befor i kick you in the *****   she is a charmer.

The crew fliming are madness  as togather we all danced apon the bar  but for some odd reason the ground had tilted and only effected me  dam UKs and there ninja abiltys and Garys knack for floating  on air.
I went down like a cheerleader on prom night hitting my head apon the floor.

Out like a stripper at a frat boys party after she had   beer and roofie
cocktail.
I was taken to a magical place  were  whiskey  flowed  like water
and you didnt have to pay for ***.

I awoke  in a hospital bed   head taped up  surrounded  by friends
the doctor asking many questions puzzled I made no sense.
Dear Lord this man has   brain dammage the doctor said.

The nurse leaned over  her  low cut top hey it's my write okay.
Brought a gleam to my devilish eyes   hey i mouthed   to Chris
I can see her *******.

Well  Gonzos fine  Chris replied.
As From the restroom there was a clatter
so i did turn my hungover head to see what  the **** was a matter.            

Jack appeared from the rest room Ga Ga in arm.
naked as bald eagle   void of feathers.

Gary.  Hey  i always herd  she was a .

Chris  Thats just ******* weird.

Paula. Who's the ***** who wrote on my forhead?  

Eileen.  it wasnt Chrisey poo.

Baths. Jesus  Gonzo your   long winded  crazy   and good looking
yeah i added that       hey don hit me i just had a near sober experience.
dam gaga is really a.

Jack  yeah and im in love my my my  poker face

FIN
The first season of the gonzo shore is now out on dvd   vhs   and eight track although that kinda *****.
Look for next season when we actully have film in the camera.

And if you were offended by my crazy semi sober crap then
balme it all on Gary cheers my friends
    STAY  CRAZY  

VIVA  LA  GONZO
Jonny Angel Sep 2014
Sometimes,
it was so quiet
walking point
on patrol,
all you could hear
was the
occasional
shooting star,
guitars
screaming
in my head.
Mike Hauser Feb 2014
I want to make a groovy movie
Like Sgt. Pepper did
When he was in his younger days
With his Lonely Hearts Club Band

I'll hire a psychedelic painted bus
To film my groovy movie in
Then I'll fill this wonder up
With all my family and my friends

Of course you know I will invite
The Walrus to ride along
And if I play my cards just right
He'll sing for us a song

We'll wear Shiny Silky Suits
And brightly colored Feathered Caps
Patent Leather High Top Boots
All while wearing Animal Masks

We'll  play this out to the crowds
As our Paisley bus it passes by
Waving while saying Paul's not dead
As Lucy juggles diamonds in the sky

A day in the life you'll see I'll make that groovy movie
Just like Sgt. Pepper did
When he was in his prime
With his Lonely Hearts Club Band
I've never believed.
I mean truly believed.
Not even
when you and I
sat through Sunday school,
but I'll admit
that there are worse things
then the possibility
of getting to see you again.
I'll see you there
if I get to go
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
Two strapping squadies sat on a tank
Both just been for a sly ham shank
One called Peter one called Paul
Both rather partial to the others smalls

Along came the Sgt he didn't want to play
Went and told the CO he thought they were gay
Along came the MPs in their red hats
Dragged them to the guard house quick as a flash

Now a court martial and public ridicule
The Sgt said the showers where not safe at all
A dishonerable discharge for being a ***
Being a soldier was all that they had

Twenty years latter we now go to war
You love a man or woman even three or four
The Army doesnt care if you play the rear flank
So long as you can shoot to ****
Or drive a Tommy tank

Well that was then and this is now
Many came back from another gulf war
Hounded like prey by the lawyers of today
For doing exactly what the CO says

So sign up Peter sign up Paul
Do what you like with you best friends smalls
But for heaven's sake be you John or Jane
DON'T SHOOT ANYONE IN THE GOVERNMENTS
NAME!!
The mad  Military
Fifty years ago this week
Sgt. Pepper he began to speak
Hidden deep just like a motley fool
Inside four boys from Liverpool

It took four lads as inspiration
to bring hope to a crying nation
After November's assassination
They grabbed us...we held on

John, Paul, George and Ringo
on Ed's Sunday Show
We sat back and watched them go
They grabbed us...we held on

They came and held the hand
Of a still in mourning land
A little skiffle band
They grabbed us...we held on

We were brought back from the dark side
We were on a rock and roll ride
With four young lads from Mersey Side
They grabbed us...we held on

They grabbed our hearts and souls
They expanded musics goals
They all had different roles
they grabbed us...we held on

In times...things were changing
The band was re-arranging
No more tours were staging
They grabbed us...we held on

Soon, they all went on their way
McCartney sang "Another Day"
John, he had a lot to say
George and Ringo...just played on

John was shot at decades start
It shocked the world and broke apart
Those who held him in our heart
The Beatles were no more

George died too, all things must pass
He always had a silent class
The parts aren't greater than the mass
The Beatles were no more

Is there anyone out in the land
Who will come and take us by the hand
I hope that you will understand
They grabbed us...we held on
He tapped me on the shoulder
Before he had to go
Said I'll be your Guardian Angel
I just wanted you to know

He said he knows no one who went
That came back and then complained
So he guessed the place was pretty nice
And was sure he'd want to stay

He knew he'd see my grandma
Who had went three years before
She'd been waiting for him patiently
To walk him through God's door

Then he asked us not to worry
Said he knows what is in store
He was pleased with the life he lived
And knew God would show him more

Spent his last three weeks with family
Where he said his sweet goodbyes
My final memory of this man
Was the brave ending to his life

He would give to me this passion
But to the world he gave much more
The life he lived was one of love
He was the gift I most adored

In Memory
Sgt. Harold Addison Yates
My Grandfather

*Carl Joseph Roberts
A true story written with tears.  I miss this man who fought in two wars, was a prisoner in World War 2 then came home and served as a Sergeant with the Columbus Police Dept.  My Grandfather gave to me my Love for poetry. He passed several years ago but is missed every day.
On Christmas Day we wake up
We've no stocking on our bed
We've got a plastic kit box
taking up space there instead
You see, we aren't at home with you
Even though you wish we are
We're celebrating Christmas
Over here in Khandahar

A big Merry Christmas to friends and family
of Cpl. Mike Cannandale of St. Louis, Missouri, USA

We have our turkey dinner too
Stuffing, taters, pumpkin pie
We all sit here telling stories
And it's hard just not to cry
so, we do, because we're not back home
Having Christmas like you all
But, we're over here in Khandahar
Because we all answered the call

Merry Christmas to all friends and family of Liuetenant James Mc Caskill
of Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire, England

We have a snowman by our tent
He's made of plywood, painted white
Thank god, we made no snowballs up
We'd get splinters  in a fight
We go to church and pray for peace
And wish we could go home
But, over here at Christmas time
There's just no where to roam

Merry Christmas to friends and family of
Captiain John Watson, PPCLI, in Greenwood, Nova Scotia, Canada

We made our videos last week
To send you our best wishes
We'd all love to be back with you
Washing up those Christmas dishes
For now, we are one family
Joined in heart, and soul and mind
Having a Christmas meal in Khandahar
The best meal of it's kind

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to friends
and family, of Marine Master Sgt. Tim Wilcox, Plano, Texas, USA

Next year we will be home with you
Having Christmas as we should
Praying for peace, hope and prosperity
And all things that are good
for now though, we are over here
missing you this Christmas Day
We just hope you're thinking of us
As we keep the foe at bay

Merry Christmas to all the friends, family, co-workers and supporters
of all the soldiers in War Zones everywhere, who can't be at home this Christmas
May they all get home safe.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
Honored Man

A man who seemed so big
Yet would give the world to me
With hands made of stone
A life that you should know

He was a old time Cop you see
A Sergeant that walked the streets
In a time when cops just knew
How to enforced a law or two

A soldier in several wars
Americas worth fighting for
Those words I heard him say
When asked about those days

He was a prisoner of the war
But he would not say much more
We knew they tortured him
But they say he never gave in

At home he started hard
Drinking at every bar
But a family he still raised
Thats how it was those days

Then one day he just slowed down
And he put the bottle down
He became the man I knew
And tought me a thing or two

He was married for 50 years
To a woman he loved so dear
Till one day she left his side
To go to a better life

My grandfather was a gentle man
So calm when he held my hand
He gave so much in life
And he taught me how to write

By Carl Joseph Roberts (August 2013)



In
Loving
Memory
And In Honor of Sgt. Harold A. Yates ( Hank)
My grandfather who shared the love of poetry
Christian
Husband
Father
Soldier
Cop
Sergeant
Grandfather
­Great Grandfather

This Cross for him
If you are a follower of my poems and like many that you read, please know it is because of my grandfather that I write. My grandfather shared with me his love for poetry and allowed me to read his poetry books. It was from his love that I took up writing and it is in his honor that I put down my words for all to read.
Terry Collett May 2013
At the fountain
by Nelson’s Column
you met Julie
in mini skirt

and bright
red top
her hair hugged
into a ponytail

a copy of Sgt Pepper’s
under her arm
you in jeans
and open necked shirt

came across to her
standing there
looking into the fountain’s water
sorry I’m late

you said
missed my train
no problem
she said

bought my own Beatles' LP
and she held it out to you
friends say it's neat
and way out

she added
as you scanned
the sleeve
where we going?

you asked
drink I must have a drink
she said
how’s things

at the hospital?
usual stuff: treatment
drugs to get me
off drugs

therapy
psychiatrists
nurses
and so on

you?
she asked
I’m ok
you said

ok is crap
ok is boring
is mediocre
life either *****

or it’s exciting
and over the top
she said
the Square was crowded

people
and pigeons
and water
and sun

and sky
and mixture
of perfumes
and bus fumes

let’s get that drink
she said
and so you went off
to a bar off

Trafalgar Square
and ordered two drinks
and sat outside
in the sunshine

I think the fat nurse
on my ward suspects us
she said
suspects what?

you asked
you and me
and that small room
o that

you said
she took out
a cigarette pack
and took out

two cigarettes
and gave one
to you and lit
them both

think she’s jealous
or envious
Julie said smiling
free love

makes some women angry
Schopenhauer said
somewhere
that wives and ******

despise women
who give ***
away free
it undermines
their contracts

how’s Jamie?
you asked
still locked up
she said

they claim
he was supplying
but he wasn’t
they ******* him up

she inhaled
and searched
your eyes
you still playing

your saxophone?
yes
you said
I practice everyday

annoys
the neighbours
sometimes
but got to

keep up with it
and hone the skills
she sat legs crossed
her thighs exposed

her footwear bright
her fingers holding
the cigarette
the lips red

her eyes
like small mirrors
small **** pressed
against the red top

the memory
of that small room
off the ward
she and you

and brooms
and boxes
and such
and kisses

and ***
and on edge
for the door to open
but not overmuch.
NickBlockOneLove Jan 2013
Whats your problem with the way I live?
The story of man is always never ending
me n hastings just dropped some acid
here I go again
like sgt. Peppers I’m just experimenting.
Were lighting up the grass
here comes the world through eyes misunderstanding
But we’re just a generation misunderstood
Occupy all streets *****
this is our revolution
They say its all just evolution
uprising is just a way to stop prostitution
But ya no were all just part of this revolution of evolution
its always in season
the mass media fixation
on the problems of obamas nation.
You kno I say whats your problem with the way I live?
They say get an education
open your eyes to the beauty of a nation
We’re all just problem children
only stuck inside the hate of our lives left broken
So we drink a lot of beer
smoke a lot of ****
I’m not obamas footman
Ya but Were young and that’s our excuse
Don’t be a ******* hypocrite
your just like great britain
Whats to say its not just part of who we are
We’re all ****** up man
why can’t we all see it
I guess you have a problem with the way I live
You kno it doesn’t even exist
so I’m not getting in
nick armbrister Mar 2018
Tarac Ridge Warplane crashes February 8-10 2018 write up by Nick Armbrister



I have had an interest in aeroplanes and history ever since my dad got me into planes back in 1980. He took me up to air crashes on the Pennines/Peak District/Manchester/Yorkshire/Lancashire area of England in the early 80s. There are over fifty crashes alone here ranging from the war years and later. We also went to wrecks in the Lake District and Wales.

In 2014 in the Philippines I went to more wrecks. I Googled Bataan warplane crashes and found out about the LT Stone P-40 Warhawk and Sgt Kurosawa Ki-27 Nate dog fight and subsequent crashes. This read like something from a Battle or Warlord comic.

Over the coming weeks I put together an expedition there. I talked to Kevin Hamdorf who was one of the group who found the P-40 wreck. He gave me much info and introduced me to the guide, Noel. Without his help the trip wouldn’t have been possible.

We went to the crash area at Tarac Ridge on February 8-10 2018. This was the 76th anniversary of it. We went to the P-40 on Feb 9 and the Ki-27 on the 10th.

The crashes are over a kilometer up altitude wise. We had to hike many hours through the forest/jungle and mountain to the area. We camped at the lower campsite. There is an easier site at the top of the mountain near Kurosawa’s Nate which is less than a hundred feet below the area. Because we never camped there we had to ascend the final hour to the summit each day.

The Warhawk site of Stone is hundreds of feet below Kurosawa’s in the forest on the mountain side. Little remains today but bits of alloy, Perspex, glass and other small fragments. We found these. Lt Stone is still listed as MIA Missing In Action. One of our group, Mike, searches for MIAs. We took hundreds of photos of the area and of our search.

I ventured up to the Nate site of Sgt Kurosawa on the last day of our three day stay. It was at the summit. We had to go through thick brush/jungle to the location. Kurosawa hit a rock face and his plane was fragmented. The engine used to be there but has since been removed. There is less at this site than at Stone’s P-40. We found bits of metal, Perspex and bits. Looking at the closeness to the summit, I realized that Kurosawa almost made it.

Nobody but God and the pilots know who shot down whom and who was on the other’s tail that day. The result is the same: two warplanes wrecked and two pilots dead. Maybe more answers will be found on future expeditions. It was a great experience to go there to Tarac Ridge, Mariveles, Bataan. In time I hope to return. This was my first international warplane trip. I want to go to a Grumman F-6F Hellcat at Capas next.
Alexa Sz May 2010
I am the walrus walking, with Lucy in the sky with her diamonds, talking about going to Mr. Kites show tonight and then we'd have dinner at the Octopus's garden in the shade with Father MacKenzie. She said that Rocky raccoon was going to be at the show too and I remembered that Lady Madonna will stay for a bit if she earns enough money. I bet you didn't know that Sgt. Pepper's lonely hearts band will be there to play a bit. They are going to arrive in the yellow submarine with the nowhere man. then they are going to strawberry fields to play. I am going to meet up with them tomorrow at Abbey road and then go visit Jojo with them. From there we'd go to play for the Blue meanies and their bulldogs. What a wonderful place Beatle world is, but I have a ticket to ride the Magic mystery bus back to reality. Too bad I can't stay awhile longer!
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
/                you sure that there's an actual vinyl
revival?
   it's stirr-frying my testicles
back in england
   and vinyl is on the comeback?!

**** yeah!
   i tried interpreting an ancient egyptian
concept of a fanning / ***** police
for days on end...

  newspaper? no...
    saturday nespaper magazine?
no...
          c.d.?!
             no...

              impromptu napkin
"loophole"?
             nope...

    vinyl?!

             oh **** me!
i own a vinyl sgt. peppers'...
don't really want to listen to it...
but, vinyl, within
the framework of a revival?!

   july sunday pants...

                you can fan me back and
forth, back and forth that
elongated into circular *******
           liquorice...

finally! vinayl has a secondary,
degenerate purpose...
      fanning equippment!
spread the air...
  unless you're me
lodging a ******* imitation of
a ball-sack with
ice-cubes dangling in front of a fan:
spreading nothing,
but hot air...

   honest to god, in this weather:
the beatles' vinyl?
    means as much crock-****
as i'd really love for a
  nefertiti:
                   "woof"...
   or a...
                           wave of air...
     a bellowing bull
                      with rotten breath...

but at least we found out that
vinyl is useful afterall...
way past the newspaper...
   or a pigeon flapping,
or the comment section
that's coorporate...

        vinyl?
       perfect flapping equipment!
disperses the air...
      like sinatra disperses
bad singers...
                   drunk and...
  'opely 'opefully on to "it".

   is that like: the dead come (back)...
and then we hit karma redemption
with reincarnation?!
   limited contra dough-dough-deep
state affairs?!
       new delhi ***
                           new york?!

no wonder i can't stop laughing
as if that could even be translated into
slavic languages!

                    you pompous
anglican-integrated-******...
   ****** english women...
  you?! you?! you?! you want
to dictate, rules for me?!

               ******: now i want
to fight your side's resemblance of goliath!
i've petted an alsatian and a dobberman
up to the age of 8...
         i think i'll manage...
****-******* your granny's egotism
rooting for: ahmed no. 1.
Marcus Logan Nov 2010
I have stood in a thousand formations
and beared witness to the greatest men
who've recieved the greatest honors

I have stood in few formations
where i have cried
tears for my fallen brothers

I have stood at attention
as the casket was loaded
and away they flew

I have flown the heroes
no longer here
and cried every minute

I have rendered a million salutes
but the ones i remember
are for the fallen

With flag draped casket
etched upon my memory
never to see another golden sunset

Lost but never forgotten
the heroes, my brothers, my comrades
for as i breathe you'll never be forgotten

Rest In Peace
Shadow Brethren
SSG Powell And Sgt Silk

May you sleep with angels
on the wings of doves
to the pearly gates at ST. Peters Steps
Aditya Roy Sep 2017
I bet you think you hate that muzak in your ears
Three men on the run
Sgt. Pepper confirmed all your fears
All the crazy fans kept screaming his name
Jesus had stopped that all in vain
His face still remains
As the applause should now start to sear
The one only musician
Billy Shears

Well how do you sleep at night
Oh Yoko how do you stand beside
As he weeps in his derisive stride
Your luck he hasn’t beaten your pride

You better keep it in your head
You can’t compete with Shears since you sing like the dead
The folks who told us Paul had sunk like lead
John was the balloon and with a pin ***** he’d lose his head
Too bad he never told you that your art was only good in bed

Oh how do you sleep at night
Knowing that pretty Paul has died
Oh I wonder how young Julian felt tight
When you couldn’t keep the bed bugs out, right
And when John left the two
You two purist virgins didn’t even have a fight

Well if Sgt. Pepper took him by surprise
Billy had still found a way to rise
You just had to ram it in his size
When you heard Band on the Run you knew it wouldn’t fade
Imagine all the tears that had been shed
When you made those two the critics from the first left you in the shade
Since the only mistake you made was in your head

Oh how do you sleep at night
Knowing that Billy’s took your wife
I don’t mean Yoko I mean the night
But you millionaire you still fight for your own rights
Whilst after Jesus you learned to scorn at the raucous sight
Keeping peace in your heart and peace in your mind sending peace afterwards with the tide
Paul McCartney is Billy Shears. If you've heard of the hoax that was popular before Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, the album. This song parodies How Do You Sleep? by John Lennon. How he and Yoko Ono derided Paul. This poem considers his death a possibility asserts guilt on the other Beatles and of course Yoko Ono.
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
the old tale forgotten, whispers
I imagine.

Slow slow
Cali-ing an imp's pulse, a life's response to my
spondaic plea

Hear me.
Fret not, the game is afoot. Real life
has ridden the wind
to catch us up

we win again
and set us round this flame to teach us
past the games
past the practice

craft has prospered in wisdom's embrace.

taste, and see.
The story on one tongue tastes bitter, while

I always find it sweet.
The blind leader has an old horse
who always makes it
home, I have a promise I follow and

the horse is far behind, keeping pace
with the game afoot,
far behind.

When this tale is told,
may you be the first to tell it true.

--- each line I think ends the trail
--- but I think wrong

the tale and the trail are seeming symish,

here we be in this book of life, whence, if we find our name,
we remain forever.

Can you imagine? In a word realm, we may remain.

The secret is we live. That's the tale I tell.

===
it's all ish or isha, isn't it It, the nameless
missing wished for thing,
the
exact which one,
we all feel we lack.

A touch never felt, but hoped for
through the pain,
oh, the shame.

Yours, the blame.

---- old man not so old
---- all the lies that you were told
---- were told to all since Cain, these are the common chains.

The mission, the quest to bher the blame away in phors o'shame,
while holding all the truth

a word may logically hold ina reasonable realm,
a word realm

whence, in the be
gin or gen ing (on going ing ing ing)

Genius ginning seed from fibers fit t'make threads
fine as spider webs,

watch, chile, watch this bobbin spin and spin and spin

soon be baby sleep in full-on gamma state,
while gran'ma spin the cotton wit' no thought of a wheel.

By and by, we see things beginnin' better, from seed up.

Sgt. Why-**** calls me, from the VA hospital, in MIami,

why you interupptin me , Why-****? He say

stroke-slow, y'know

I -- a whole next word duration twixt each tongue-lip config
and some repeats due to ram slips

He got it out, said he had to tell you (me) to remember,
All things work together.

Incredulous me, I ask, really,  you called to tell me that?
No,
he said
you said you would call, from time to time,
so I figured you forgot. The mission is to live true.

No lie, I replied.
Sgt. John Wikel, USMC, is real. He is history alive, and my friend. Wounded within weeks of boots on ground, his life is the kind of life legends form from.
Edward Fairley Mar 2018
Yes you heard me
I hated this toy
I hated it with a passion
That was fastened
To my chest with seat belts
And burned onto my heart
With a hot branding iron

This toy was a teddy bear
One of teddy roosevelt's passions
With a patent owned by a name
I'll never know
Given to kids who are just beginning to grow
So that they have something to talk to
To let everything flow

My brother named him sgt.grizzly
And he was always busy
Telling this little teddy
The secrets of his life

I kid you not
He told this bear his world
He entrusted and unfurled
Everything to this inanimate
Object that couldn't even answer back

By now you're trying to figure out
Exactly why I hate a thing
That I don't even own
Well when that thing sits on the throne
Of a brother you wish you'd known you'll
Understand

Because everytime my brother and I fought
He brought up this stupid teddy bear
And how it did things I did not
How it listened to him
And didn't try to advise him and it sickened me


What disgusted me more than this
Was the fact that he told a toy
More about himself
Than I will ever know in a lifetime
He told it secrets I've been trying to learn
Since the beginning of his time
He gave that toy more of his heart
Than I have ever seen in him within the 13 yrs I've spent with him

And while he threw at me nothing but ****** and pins
He gave this toy an inside look on his many opinions
And while he tested me constantly
He gave his stupid teddy
A degree in justinology
The study of my brother a study in which I wish I wasn't struggling

While my brother threw me worksheets
Sgt grizzly got a free pass
Even though he did nothing in class
Justin let him pass
With an A
While I struggled to hold a D
While i fought hard
He handed grizzly a security card
And as far as I was concerned
All he ever did was put me on blast

I'll admit it I was actually a little jealous
I still am at times
That a stupid toy
Managed to know more about a boy
Who I spent majority of my life living with than me
And honestly it was insulting

Everytime grizzly got lost
I was the first to blame
Just because I was cursing and speaking negatively whenever I spoke that dreaded name




Honestly I have never before admitted
This to anyone
After all being mad at a toy
Isn't the best way for a teenage boy
To be seen but oh boy
I’ve lost the will to keep this in
So I'm simply going to sit down
And write about the hate I have
For this little stupid toy
betterdays Apr 2014
there is some
uninvited thing
living in our kitchen
gus the little greycat
waged a hissing yowling
war against it at 3am
to no avail
and now sits as sentry
eyes intent.
as i walk past
his snipers position
at the fridge
desperate for coffee.
i know i will
have to don
rubber gloved armour
and go on a recon mission placing snares and bombs but an army of me
needs coffee
to face the tiny terror
in the tupperware.....
and at least
a few more hours sleep.
.....hold your position
sgt guscat.
turned out to be a baby feildmouse
returned it to the wild ....over the road.  
cat not  happy but resigned and bribed with  best lamb mince.
we can all rest easy  now
war averted.
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2018
good god a gaggle of girls

read the dispatch thrice; the hierarchical lines some straight and some dotted but all I know they got a genealogical baseball team femi-nine
and maybe an NFL eleven when the twins get older

(husbands and sons ride the motorcycle bench and
back up if necessary, and good for musical accompaniment)

~oh yeah,
for Medusa~

this megillah message team meant for  me to assauge my
mother hubbard accusations  only partial reveals the player’s names:
but if you google a
gaggle of strong women you become informed there is a:

Queens Esther, Miriam, an Eve, four matriarchal outfielders, Batsheva pitching and only Ruth, can catch her **** curveball

in between an occasional poem gig whose costs are covered
under the mental health clause of a health care plan
but only in
California  

too cavalier, get it, you prefer this perhaps

sinewed strength in arms that can
carry three children at once,
age is not a factual issue,
for there is an army of
women soldiers who are a troop contingent,
everyone’s back is covered always-full stop-
they curve like the Earth’s crust,
magma formed strong and mineral rich,
curved to better resist
the comets the heavens cannot resist
to send & test the mettle
of a gaggle of stronger women sinewy arms entwined
reenforced

alas

the grandpa must here resist and rest,
lunch prep before Sgt. Stubby movie at noon,
in reclining chairs they ride like wild horses
and all our shushing noisier than their giggles
just google a gaggle of strong kids,
you’ll see what I mean
in this, we do possess a giggle of expertise




sunday 10:15am
written to the 1812 overture
Mitchell Nov 2011
The censors are in
And the mad houses
Have been unlocked
For the carnival

Friends and former
Lovers embrace your
Bodies and watch the
Clouds billow in the distance

For the background is
Always more beautiful
Then the horrid
Foreground

Not in this hour
But the next there
Will be social
Justice!

There will be a fire
To be put out that
All the masses of the
World can see and
Truly understand and
Articulate!

As of right now,
SGT. BECHER is
Blasting his horn in my
Right ear, causing
Blood hemorages of
Every type and sort

But what of love!

What of pure hate!

What of a human race
Born into INHUMANITY

Legions of snarling dogs
Licking their chops for
The next fix that will COME
But not
SUFFICE

Consumption is a word
No one
Will's to understand

Small has always
Equaled weak

And the born strong
Will never back peddle

In evolution

It just

Isn't

Done

So to abide the wealthy
Warmongers piling
Ammunition on top of
And inside their
Grandmother's brazers!

Is to let them win a
Game they were meant to
Win ANYWAY

Roads were meant to be walked on
Mountains meant to be conquered
But people,
What were we
Meant to do
With

Ourselves?
Micheal Wolf Jun 2013
"Don't fire till you see the whites of their eyes"
He said to me as Zulus came across the drift
What if I keep mine closed I said
Pretend there all at home instead

So what if their eyes are red after a late night out
Or Yellow" jaundiced and unwell
All the thoughts went through his head
As the soldier held his gun up high
As screaming warriors began to die

What if the others shot them all?
So I didn't have to get involved
Sgt Major is rather cross as as he's just been shot in the ***
It's all becoming quite absurd
I watched a film and fell asleep
Mad now I'm there in my dreams

Some solace? If there can be just one
I watched Zulu and not "What dreams may come"....

— The End —