"wwii" poems
What luxury to get mad
about last night's basketball loss
and watch the full moon descending
at the speed the earth turns.
Things could get worse
personally and for the community.
Bombings, killings, anomie
boiling frogs and witches cursing.
The changing climate,
typhoons in the Philippines,
volcanoes and tsunamis, WWII which I missed,
Thanksgiving nor'easter, Easter twister.
What abundance to fast or feast,
your choice, stay inside by the stove
or go outside, climb the mountainside.
Live in a city or small town.
So I raged at the coaches
for their lazy zone defense
like an alien in the bleachers
unable to affect the outcome.
When my sons came home
I yelled at them too. What opulence
to be angry about nothing of consequence
neither stopped by the cops nor slipped on the ice.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 6:13 AM UTC
Senses explode, WWII,
Nuclear warfare on this expanse of bare
Skin supposed to be closed at my age separates,
I let the saltwater seep into this,
Slick. Time passes, hardly passing,
But, oh, how well we move. Dance
Around our icy fire, escape from the pain
Constantly eating, feeding.
We are a buffet of things to harm
Come for another plate, fate.
Do us more harm? No. We will not stand, we can't
When we are in this state of mind. We have no state of mind,
Lust driven creatures, but we can speak. Command, tell me what
You want. You want a simple thing, but so complex.
And I want it, too, but simpler for me. A simple thing, unless thought of.
Believed in, felt deeply in ways not physical.
Arching and deepening, we will not be broken down by a measly
War outside of our windows.
Fire scorching the wooden figures, but we are sheltered by stone.
We have escaped and we are left with a heavy air and the smell
Only we can concoct. Nonexistent fabric leaving traces on my skin and yours, indent.
And your eyes are all I see, even in the dark. I know their color by heart, greenbluegrey-everchanging. But I can figure it out.
Your pupils dilate you know. You look at me and I see them. You seem drugged, dear.
Let me feed your addiction. There are many nuclear weapons left, buried
Throughout the world. We can travel and love,
Never ending.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
I had to run to the store today at lunchtime
we were out of paper plates
we had a party last night
and didn't want to have to do dishes again
While there and while moving quite quickly
although in the shape I am in, "quickly" is being very kind to myself
I came across a man
In a blue blazer
with yellow shorts and
knee-high yellow socks
in beige shoes
My first thought was
I need to get paper plates
my father-in-law is waiting for his lunch
he's eighty nine and flew over the Pacific
during WWII in a PBY Catalina
one of the most beautiful flying boats ever created
pulling pilots out of the water
who had come up short in a dogfight
or of fuel
I needed to get paper plates
This isn't Bermuda old chap
or a cricket match in Rhoorkee
the british invented great campaign chairs there
this is Connecticut but then
I realized that I knew the man
I had worked with him in a previous life
in a long dead company
that burst before the internet bubble did
He was a former British Sergeant Major
and as such took his colonial British very seriously
that attitude fascinates me
his office I recalled, looked like a colonial governor's office in India
So I said hi
and we talked for a bit
and wished each other well
and said good bye
as I needed to get paper plates
my father-in-law was waiting for his lunch
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
Biology TED talk, Ken Burns WWII
Multiple choice plus open response =
Teacher cares, out there among the English
Mathematics, fractions to imaginary i
Anything can happen any time, I mean
Mass killing--public school, movie theater,
Post office when every mother wears a gun
Yet happiness permeates like CO2 + sunlight
Photosynthesis + electricity = burning bush
Hot tea, hot shower pleasure perfect rest
Early to bed, no more lies, complexity
Poetry about history, i.e. Wolfowitz
As for non-fiction, most things qualify to know
Astrobiology, search for LUCA, FLO
Minerals on Titan, organisms on Enceladus
Divination on Iapetus, peace on Earth and Tethys
Volcanoes and tsunamis, Big Red One and Private Ryan
Don't stay up late, take your vitamins
Sin and crime being nothing more than
Mental malaise, imbalance. Love and compromise
Tolerance, practice worksheets, brilliance
Prejudice and superstition, Tha's a wrap
Nothin doin, ain't gonna happen, freedom's when
Yes is mostly a blessing and No is always an option
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 8:14 AM UTC
Oh Archie,
The Don speaks so kindly to our generation...
I wish you were here to hear,
To lament, with me...
Oh Archie,
It seems so difficult this modern life.
This place of no rewards,
...no one knows what started it all,
how life was great once here in America.
Oh Archie,
They've taken over your favorite past-time, television!
They're everywhere nowadays my love...
You can't get away from them; like cock-a-roaches.
I see them out in the marketplaces and wonder;
"Can these people understand English?"
"Do they remember that white people saved the world in WWII?"
"Do they care that someone else built civilization?"
Oh Archie,
...my love,
I miss you.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
mass culture is designed for complacency [ ];
the Great Depression of the 30's ended the Roaring 20's;
as radio brought WWII & TV Vietnam into homes
where easy-chairs & TV dinners reigned in cartoon
silence; Bud sneaks off to the garage to smoke bud,
when the innocent stoner gets a draft card,
turning radical, Bud grows his hair long &
giving the middle finger to some, peace
sign to others [decades go by when hideous was fashionable];
9/11 breaking our post-grunge
neo-70's-80's haze [for what, like a week - - -
then came the hoax of Islamophobia
spreading paranoia & nervousness in case
the terrorists missed anyone; the 90's
were already nostalgia by the time of the invasion
of Iraq; mass culture is designed for sedentary complacency
but when society is in upheaval
the media just has to wait
until it's all over to start promoting expensive baubles again - - -
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC
Won boxing matches with Lewis , Lasky, Corn Griffin, Swiderski,
Then many more titles with Griffiths, Farr, Stillman, and Levandowski,
Jackson, Caggiano, Darnell and Dobson
Something he could tell his grandson
His greatest match of all was the title he earned against Max Baer
The fight was the ultimate win at Gardens of Madison Square
A very passionate man for his wife and children he went to great lengths
To keep his family together during the depression, even in times of brink
Served honorably in WWII as a 1st Lieutenant
Owned a surplus supplier of marine equipment
Helped to construct the bridge Verrazano
It was the proud city’s beautiful Picasso
Gone is Jim Braddock, a movie about him, CINDERELLA MAN to be sure he’s not forgotten
His Granddaughter Rosemarie Dewitt played his neighbor Sara Wilson, who was downtrodden
Copyright 2014
All Rights Reserved
Biopoem
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine,
Air, space, land and sea;
Sailor, Corpman, Airman, Soldier,
Pilot, Ranger, Medic, SEAL,
or Merchant Mariner;
Barbary, 1812, American Revolution,
Civil, Spanish, Texan and Mexican,
WWI, WWII,
Korea, Vietnam,
Gulf, Iraq and Afghanistan.
Khaki, green, white and blue,
Ship, tank, plane... all boots.
Knife, pistol, bomb or rifle,
Weapon, bandage, or Bible instead,
Each one’s veins filled with red.
Hostage rescue, protect and shield,
Capture, conquer, overcome, never yield;
Freedom, heartbreak, loss and grief,
Foreign, home, border, sky,
Ocean, desert, mountain, plain,
Water side, hillside, bedside, grave.
Parent, child, father, mother,
Auntie, uncle, niece or nephew,
Sister, brother, spouse and lover.
May your sweat on furtive brow,
Rouse our tribute, take knee and bow.
Buried, missing... wounded all,
Respect, endure, honor, release,
Forever may you rest in peace.
*To each of you
Who’s paid a price,
With years, with limb,
With blood, with life,
For each of these,
Oh, warrior ferocious,
Wrapped around
A heart that’s precious;
My voice it sings,
Let freedom ring;
My heart, it bleeds,
My eyes, they weep;
My hand, it rises in salute;
And my soul is filled
This day for you
With pride that swells,
With love that beats,
A song of deepest,
Heartfelt
Gratitude!*
Oh Warrior, you this day I salute!!!
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
"i am very particular about who i expose myself to,"
we say to 3 million strangers every day
i shut off everything and everyone
just to listen for a while
then i start talking and do not stop ever
imagine yourself vividly
darkness goes like this
tell me one war since wwii that the united states has "won"
tell me one war where we have not been the aggressor
he told me that
burning down the house was the only logical thing to do next
unknowing how much of a literal person i am
start the car and leave this nowhere behind
things i used to admire from afar seem so much closer now
oh dear
i think i've lost myself
could you call it
(i left it on silent)
i don't have any data to back up my opinions
i think gravity and love are that of the same force
i don't like associating with people who complain about the length of songs
i wish i was strong enough to lift both of our souls simultaneously
you are constantly defining beauty with the way
you bite your lip and flutter your eyelashes and grasp your left arm and stare at the ground
while speaking to me
you are drunk and you are sad and i am broken and lets kiss
wow here we are
kissing
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
They're a normal family
As normal as they can be
The father is a veteran of WWII
He runs a tight ship
but one can tell by
looking into his eyes
(the one that works)
that he loves his wife and children
The mother isn't a homemaker
because she's forced to
she actually loves the challenge
of keeping a household in order
it gives her something
to take pride in
The daughter is sweet sixteen
bright as the stars in the night sky
She wants to be a concert pianist
drawing in crowds of thousands
to listen to sweet melodic
sensations
The son is naught but an infant
slowly learning the benefit
of moving in order to get places
his eyes constantly wander
in wonder at his surroundings
innocence in its true form
They are a normal family
But they're not.
Look closely at the father
You can see the mangled remnants of his chest
Where he fell on top of a grenade
He is, indeed, a veteran of WWII.
His name is on the large memorial in Washington D.C.
Just another young man willing to sacrifice
for something he believed in
His wife died in 1926 from complications during pregnancy
She never got to see her daughter's face
as the doctors carried her from the room
The mother's pale face and unliving eyes
staring at a nondescript hospital ceiling
The daughter's crushed skull is the byproduct
of a drunk driver who is still haunted by
the vision of teenage dreams sliced
apart by windshield glass in 1985
He drinks alone at home now
The child has a gunshot wound through his neck
a stray bullet from a gang fight that found flesh and blood,
just as the man who pulled the trigger intended it to
every time the infant giggles, one can hear the gurgle shortly after
This family exists somewhere outside our consciousness
They don't go on vacations to Disney World
You won't see them at the corner grocery store
They don't Celebrate the Holidays
They don't have
a favorite sports team
a favorite pair of shoes
a favorite band
What they have is eachother
four random souls that found one another
lost in the ether
living their afterlife
the best they can
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 10:19 PM UTC
Any brighter and
streams in the ditches
would look like Cuyahoga River
across Cleveland during the 1960's
There is no fire, only flies
who make bright their bellies
and flash for show like the perverts
in metropolitan inner city parks
Enticed to the flies, like moths
to the ceiling globes,
we gather jars and lids
with air holes hammered hard
No walking as we streak
along gravel roads built after WWII
when rationing was lifted
and road speeds jumped
Flies caught one by one
are smashed on white tees,
luminous signals for drivers
alert to the folly of our play
Our madness endures
until Ball jars become
dim lanterns of joy for us and jail
for the bugs doomed
to die before daybreak
until swept from the garage
floor as we plot our assault
on airborne glimmers along
tonight's roadsides
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
Please come over. I’ll have a tea set, my clavinova dusted off, Apples to Apples, Bananagrams and a fireplace for philosophical talk. You can keep telling me how the regions of the body have different tones and pitch different notes, and how the ridges of your bones show like ripples in a desert. I’ll wallow in your catalogues: all the warcraft of WWII, the chemicals that preserved the cats we dissected, and the steps to dissolving the puzzle of calculus. You will master the Rubik’s cube over and over again just to amuse me. And deep inside, I hope your poetry isn’t as good as mine. But I’ll still dance better and I’ll still cuddle with you in our home theatre, and I’ll pay you a piece of my mind once I’ve made it up.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
Fighter jets in formation
Above Ekeberg Hill
Remind me of years
Spent on airbases
During my time in the
Royal Norwegian Air Force.
I was stationed at NATO's
Northernmost base during 9/11.
Minutes after plane #2,
I was upgraded to
NATO Top Secret
Clearance.
Given live ammo for my P80.
Witnessing the colonel's
Marlboro Light shake in his
Usually steady hand as I
Approached; MSO briefcase
Handcuffed to my wrist.
There were papers inside
I was expected to
Die for.
I was 22.
Not even the police carry
Firearms in this country.
Not even the police are expected
To give up ghost over information.
For a nation of such ******
History, we maintain a mellow
Attitude.
We choose peace over "piece".
Gun-sense over violent nonsense.
Naïve? Maybe.
There are nearly no shootings here.
We've had one lethal act of
Terrorism since WWII.
We can live with that.
Literally.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
. *and today's prime concern of the day? i can't access the recipe site for Australia's master-chef... maybe it's Australia, and their restrictions, or it's the ******* E.U... but... come to mind... last year i could access Eliza's triple-fried tamarind chicken... my god! they're going after restricting access to food recipes!*
could i ever think any woman as being, "ugly",
neglected, yes,
but... "ugly"?
please...
all manner of things become beautiful
around the mandible zenith upon
the grinding wheel of the big O...
nothing quiet like deathly screaming
in the hollow of the night,
but some drunkard loser -
speaking in tongues and recollecting
a myth of a patriarch
akin to Abraham...
'it's just the moon, you shit-face!'
'yeah, and my grandmother sees
a Herr Tvardovsky in it from
time to time, riding a ******* cockerel!'
which equates to a banality of
two things (well, three):
1. she shouldn't have been given
opiates during WWII to shut
the **** up, as a baby, so my great-grandparents
could hide in the Polish countryside,
i.e war zone....
2. i shouldn't be drinking and reading
religious text /
listening to Finnish folk songs...
3. about that Hollywood thing...
how movies are getting ******** and
******** by the day...
see... in philosophy there's this point,
not a Hegelian dialectic crap,
a Kantian coordinate,
a starting point,
zee: res per se...
a thing in itself...
blah blah... noumenon...
i hardly think t.v. shows will reach this
level of "self-consciousness"...
i.e. will be making t.v. shows about
making t.v. shows...
English soap opera tide barrier...
but movies have certainly turned
to focus on this, "vantage" point...
the disaster artist for starters...
birdman?
eh...
and like any cascade of falling
down from an airplane akin
to the opening image from
Salman Rushdie's the satanic verse...
mighty fine looking up
and cackling while flapping your hands
in imitation of a Canadian goose.
ha ha ha... ah... **** never gets old.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
My mind is racing again
At 4:37 am
I wish my grades were as heightened
As my inability to sleep
I’ve been having nightmares
But they don’t scare me anymore
Sometimes
I find a comfort in knowing
That the monsters I’ve dreamt
Are a lot more pleasant than the monsters
I have left to dream
I don’t mind it
But I mind you
Only because you’re always on my
Mind
I pretend that I’m a solipsist ,
But I could have just made it up
Your love wasn't as real in my heart
(As it was in my head)
I am a shy little flower
Somewhere behind the trees
“There’s really no way to reach me”
But there is.
No one has taken the time to
Explore
I once met a girl
A traveler in that moment
She told me a story about her grandmother
Who was shipped to a boarding school in Germany right after WWII.
At the age of three
The first sentence she ever understood was:
"Everything is broken"
And she lived a whole life
With that silly little thought
Echoing.
Someday
I will find an ocean breeze
Worth calling my home
With sand as soft
As my tinder
Beating heart
Good night
Is a formulation of words
Whose meaning I am still
Unfamiliar with
As I walked along
Your art stricken walls
I wonder if I’ve ever really been capable
Of creating
But hardly ever do I strike an inspiration
I can call entirely my own
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
It seems to have spontaneously combusted, but it didn’t. The disease struck long ago, brewed in the petri dish of Depression, WWII, and convergent technologies. Well before that, really, but that was the point of critical mass. By the 1950's, it was an epidemic. The independent Republic of individuals, small towns, coherent communities, distinct cities, local diners, shops and stores tied together with two lane blacktop was crumbling. Things only got worse faster. It was a disease of toxic, lulling dreams. American Dreams. And standardization was its crushing foot that flattened everything and left a homogenized wasteland in its trail. The old gods vanished and the new became despots. Go anywhere in America, Boston or Biloxi. You can’t tell where you are. Most shop at the same stores (real or virtual), eat at the same chain restaurants, wear the same clothes, gulp from the same Internet, swallow similar information, and think (within acceptable variations) the same thoughts. Even sin has become tediously consubstantial. Knowledge has been supplanted by content. Words are squeezed of meaning. Everyone is an expert and no one knows anything. Except Siri and Alexa. The Dreamtime of consumerism, consumption and conformity dominates. All that remains to come is the dominion of AI. Then we will all be watched over by machines of loving grace, free to graze in bovine bliss in the cybernetic meadows of bland utopia.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 6:54 AM UTC
Midway- Surprise! We saw them
Coming from a mile away.
Japanese aircrafts and ships try and attack,
And they get their butts whooped!
And then we got the idea to island hop!
Hop to Iwo Jima- Slowly.... Slowly.... Don't scare it,
It's like a nest of bees!
And we got it! Two air bases captured
And one step closer to the mainland!
Japan may be fortified, but we
Have tons of muscle!
Hop to Okinawa- this one was a doozy...
The biggest amphibious battle of WWII,
And contained the most casualties! Pretty harsh.
Maybe you they shouldn't have attacked us in the firs place!
We only meant to invade and use the island as a
Springboard towards the mainland, but the
Battle took too long.
Just weeks after the fighting ended, Japan surrendered
And we bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki!
We never got to invade...
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Tell me how love killed grandpa
when nothing else could.
How he was blasted into the after-life
by a grenade while trying to save another.
How they were sure he'd died,
and even issued his death certificate.
How they sent a folded flag and stoic soldier
to tell my great-grandma her son had died nobly.
Tell me how the morgue attendant
saw him cough and twitch.
How the shrapnel ripped him to shreds,
severing the blood supply to his brain.
How doctors told him he'd never walk,
or talk, or even sit up again.
How they gave him a Purple Heart
to make up for his broken body.
How he was too willful to be beaten by WWII, Korea,
or a doctor's grim diagnosis.
Tell me how I'm the daughter
of a dead man's son.
How grandpa refused to be crippled
by the forgotten war.
How he taught himself to sit up and walk,
at first with crutches and then unassisted.
How he learned to tie his shoes using only one hand,
and talk through damaged vocal cords.
How he conceived you 6 years later,
and the newspapers called him a 'True American Hero.'
Tell me how he finally died
of a broken heart.
How young and full of life grandma was
when Alzheimer's disease took her.
How quickly she forgot everything,
even how to swallow and breathe.
How you were orphaned so early in life,
no older than I am now.
How grandpa's big courageous heart could lose anything
but her.
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 9:04 PM UTC
Dear underclassmen,
You will learn so much.
You’ll learn that when seniors tell you the main stairs are only for upperclassman they’re lying, that freshman Friday isn’t a thing, and elevator passes aren’t actually real.
You’ll learn WWII started in 1939 and it was the bloodiest of them all.
You’ll learn that sometimes, things don’t have to be ****** to be painful.
Sometimes sterile wounds heal the slowest.
High school will teach you to love with a vigor you didn't see coming and to hate with a passion you never saw possible, and you’ll find that after feeling them both so deeply, it sometimes becomes impossible to tell the difference between the two.
You’ll learn about drugs- that they don’t always come in little ziplock bags or orange pill bottle.
You’ll learn that often times, they don’t come in powder or pills at all- they come in words on a page or in blue eyes staring at you through wayfarer glasses that are so clouded you find yourself wondering how they can even see the world around them.
You’ll find your drug- everyone does. You’ll know you’re addicted because to you, it's what keeps the earth spinning on its axis; it's what puts the stars in the sky; it's what you see when you hear the word love.
You'll get addicted to something, and you’ll lose it, and you’ll move on.
You’ll learn that things can change in the blink of an eye, which is just as fast as we are to post our emotions in 180 characters or less, just as fast as we are to scrutinize others for who they love, what they wear,
and what they’re addicted to.
Things change as fast as the speed of sound: 186,282 miles per second.
I learned that in chemistry.
I also learned that Fleen Dog wasn't kidding when he said if you lean in too close to a Bunsen burner your hair will catch on fire.
I've learned that if you don’t stay in the inexhaustible realm of school dress code, you’re a delinquent, but if you wear hoodies everyday, you’re a scrub. If you don't, you're a try-hard.
I've learn that for some reason the word try-hard is an insult.
I've learned that stares can be so heavy you can physically feel the weight of their eyes pushing down on your back as they watch your every move, but more importantly I've learned that those stares only matter if you actually let them.
You’ll learn that often times- there is no correct answer and sometimes you just have to choose what you believe is the most right option because it’s better to guess than to do nothing at all.
You'll learn that even in science, not everything is black and white,
that sometimes the best way to learn is by diving in head first, and if you feel your skull crash into the bottom of the pool, know that you will resurface.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
I have no clue what Krshna taught Arjuna
but I like the name Atman a lot.
Atman. Atman. Where a man is at.
At all times. No matter what.
Gita, get in the action, gorgeous girl,
god is the answer, keep the meter.
Wisdom, none.
What Krshna tells Arjuna makes no sense.
I prefer mathematics.
Knowledge of how things are made and done
more than meditation on the Self
as a manifestation of the One.
I’ll never have to leave this comfortable planet.
We have this asset but can we sell it?
In Paradise Lost, Satan executes his plan
but God already knows all about it.
Still, whether it succeeds or fails is up to Man.
Same here, when it comes to nuclear armaments,
a distraction from the work of making life permanent.
It is all premised on the mystery
of invisible but sentient particles—
little Krshnas and Kachinas
nesting inside one another.
Meanwhile life goes on outside all around you—
WWII, the Napoleonic wars,
the Civil War which we’re still fighting.
Krshna says behead your brothers
without prejudice or justice.
So it transpires in the nuclear fire.
Whatever forever.
The poem has gone to glitten.
Teacher, teacher—tiger!
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 9:08 AM UTC
Every one tells me I'm smart
But I'm not
I am not intelligent I'm just observant
I see why X=Y
I see why America faught in wwII
I see why people make fun of me
And I remember all the **** you've said to me
No I'm not a genius but I'm smart enough to see though you
You thank your better than me
Keep on thinking your fashion makes you better
Keep on thinking that your life is more than mine
I'm smart enough to see that when you rag on me
You alwow your self to believe if you diss me
That the you see in me
The you that you hate to see would not be thair
I can see all the hate in you
I see all the pain in you
Say all that **** about me
Make it seem that I'm the imperfect one
I use to be like you
Constantly denying who I am
Never allowing me to be
Always thinking what they think of me
Only knowing what they known of me
Only cairing what they wishted for me
But I'm not like that any more I see who I am
Not what people cair to see
But who I am
Who I want to be
Every aspect I hid befor
All that i wished for no one to know
I do not deny them eny more
I am not who any one thanks I am
I am not what people want me to be
I am not even what I want to be
I am me
Nouthing more nouthing less
I am who I am
No reson to deny this
And just like I am who i am
You are who you are
No mater if you deny it
No mater if you hide it
Fact is you was made to be who you are
No amount of friends can change that fact
And you will see this like I did
You will make friends that do not size you up
No mater how ****** up you seem to be
They will be their for you
It's just a mater of time before you see who you are
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
National WWII museum,
New Orleans,
summer.
Somehow
we have ended up here.
1,387 miles from home.
Here,
where war is so close
yet so far away.
I look at this boy
and for a moment
I swear his smile looks just like v-day.
And his laugh sounds like peace.
And when he calls my name through this crowd,
It feels just like a homecoming.
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC
I was watching
"The Pacific"
An HBO series
On WWII
It was pretty well done
I just don't really much care
For the violent scenes
Although I know its realistic
Then I went to a chatroom
A christian chat I joined
It's fun sometimes
Now I'm eating kidney beans
And maybe I'll look for another
Show to watch
If not I'll watch a
Documentary again
It was a full moon tonight
I thought of Elsa Angelica
I hope you are having
A good night Elsa
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 12:34 AM UTC
Joe and Rose’s Children
Joseph’s plane was shot down near England during WWII
John was assassinated in 1963 of November Twenty-Two
Rose Marie Mary had a lobotomy because she was acting aggressively
Kathleen, wed Wm J Robt Cavendish and she later died unexpectedly
Eunice married a great man, Lieutenant Robert S. Shriver
Patricia wed actor Peter Lawford, their marriage wasn't forever
Robert wed Ethel Skakel, he was another that was assassinated
Jacqueline Bovier felt sure that the Kennedy’s might be hated
Married to Stephen Edward Smith
Jean was wed to him until his death
Edward (Ted) late one night drove off a bridge at Chappaquiddick
Reporting the next day about Mary Jo Kopechne was quite horrific
Ted was married twice, first to Virginia Joan Bennett 1958–1982
And then next until his death Victoria Anne "Vicki" Reggie too
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
Maybe I'll drive out to the mountain today
I like it up in the mountains
Just me and the mountain again
The air is cool and crisp
The water is refreshing
You never know who you will meet
On the mountain
Mmm I enjoy my dried apricots and raisins
On the mountain
I am a man in nature
Therapist left me
F***!
That's alright
Still got the mountain
Can't take that away from me, hahaha
Still got nature
I may not have any money
But I have the mountain
Nobody is coming to give me a hug
Or to give a ****
And so I reach out my hand
As I climb the mountain
Touching the sky!!!
Alright!
Getting hugged by the creator
That's God's son, that's God's son!
Look at him go
I wish this life wouldn't hurt me so!
We are all children of the creator
An epic, a dream
I can't explain this life
Amazing that we are here isn't it
I can't help but smile and laugh
It's amazing to be alive
Man oh man!
More times and more times
Here they come again!
I am sick of these people
Tired of this home
And I just don't f****** care anymore
So I'm going to the mountain
Get back to the fight soldier!
My ipad just told me that lol
I'm a soldier in WWII in this game
My grandfather he was in North Africa
My great uncle he was a paratrooper, 82 airborne
The blood that ran through them, runs through me!
I'm a soldier
We are all soldiers on battlefield earth
And we fight for what it is right
And we will not live with fear in our hearts!
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC