"snelling" poems
In Loving Honor of Joseph Wulf
R.I.P.
Christi Michaels 8-31-2015
☆●♡●☆
Tonight my friend could not breathe
Lungs ravaged from long ago
Served our country as a young man
Shoulders, hip and leg bones
broke by the jungles below
A Harley Man through and through
JFD's became his Corps
Never wavered in his allegiance
to his country or his force
One of the smartest men
I have ever known
Could recite passages from long ago
abreast of topics from far and wide
a history buff so knowlegable
A brother to many, a father to one
Devoted to all he loved
A truer friend could not be had
So very popular he was!!
Joe was my protector
as I was a wild young thing
Was my confidant and
chaperone starting at just 17
Accompanied the first date with
my husband 30 years ago
Gave his blessings that first night~
To my children he was Uncle Joe
The older brother I never had.
Blessed to love him 40 years
My whole being trembles at the
thought of losing him
I weave Love within these tears
☆●●♡●●♡●●☆
~Christi Michaels~April 2015~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
♡●♡●♡●♡ Ode to Joe ♡●♡●♡●♡
This poem was written upon Joe entering
Hospice. His sisters provided
Constant Vigil and Loving Care.
Joe passed on 8-15-2015
This was read at Joes Military Burial
Fort Snelling National Cemetery
Fort Snelling, Minnesota
8-31-2015
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
In Loving Memory
Joseph Wulf
R.I.P.
8-31-2015
☆●♡●☆
Tonight my friend could not
breathe. Lungs ravaged from
long ago. Served our country as a
young man. Shoulders, hip n' leg
bones broke by the jungles below.
A Harley Man through
and through.
JFD's became his Corps.
Never wavered in his allegiance
to his country or his force.
One of the smartest men
I have ever known.
Could recite passages from
long ago. Abreast of topics
from far and wide
a history buff so knowlegable.
A brother to many, a father to one.
Devoted to all he loved.
A truer friend could not be had
So very popular he was!!
Joe was my protector,
as I was a wild young thing.
Was my confidant and
chaperone starting at just 17.
Accompanied first date with
my husband 30 years ago.
Gave his blessings that first night~
To my children he was Uncle Joe.
The older brother I never had.
Blessed to love him 40 years.
My whole being trembles at the
thought of losing him.
I weave Love between these tears.
☆●♡●♡●☆
~Christi Michaels~April 2015~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
☆●♡●☆ Ode to Joe ☆●♡●☆
This poem was written upon Joe
entering Hospice in April 2015.
His sisters provided
Constant Vigil and Loving Care.
Joe passed on 8-15-2015
This was read at Joes Military Burial
Fort Snelling National Cemetery
Fort Snelling, Minnesota
8-31-2015
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
Scene:
The Number Ten, Wednesday Night,
Going over the Central Avenue Bridge,
Passes four MPD cars, one with a boat attached;
Five men in blue uniform huddle together, arms crossed, casually speak into shoulder mounted radios.
As their faces illuminate, blue shadows red highlights,
The passengers erupt in an echoing chorus:
"Jump?"
"Jump."
One little girl, thick braids framing innocent curiosity:
"Jump?"
Her father, hesitating:
"Sometimes the world is too much for one person."
"Jump." "Jump."
The refrain continues the expanse of the bridge,
But has faded to no more than a whisper by the University Avenue Stoplight,
Escaped from your chapped lips:
"j u m p."
Scene:
Two years prior,
You, finding yourself twelve hundred miles from home,
Face the Hudson River.
The surface of the water such a bright blue
But you can't see the riverbed underneath;
Nothing but a waist-high stone wall between you and discovering
Just how deep the bottom is.
Smoke a few more cigarettes while you keep asking yourself,
"Jump?"
Two weeks later,
Fly back home, stand on the Snelling Avenue bridge looking over the train yard.
Here, it would be messy.
Here, you wouldn't disappear.
Here, you would create something far more beautiful in your death than you could ever be in life,
Organs splayed out across the tracks like a brand new ******* painting.
Take a picture on your phone,
Remind yourself of your canvas, save it for later.
You aren't quite ready to jump.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
Riding the train to Mall of America near Minneapolis. Fort Snelling National Cemetery lies East of the tracks. Outside the windows pass these gravestones. Stark marble markers in the place of heros. Rigid rank and file, monuments on parade in mimic memory of the command to "Attention!"
And there are thousands. Row after row, column upon column, they march into the distance
Until finally, I closed my eyes and listened to the rumble of the train, wheels upon tracks, and to the conversion of a young family seated behind me as they talked about all the fun they will have at the mall. The Mall of America -- found out past the tombstones, beyond the graves of the fallen brave.
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 1:52 PM UTC