Clear-seeing
Bavaria, 1946
The clairvoyante, a major general’s wife,
The secretaries’ sibyl, read the letters
They brought her from their GI soldier-lovers,
Interpreting the script. I went along
One afternoon with writing of my own.
“This writing is by one you cannot trust,”
She frowned, and all the secretaries smiled.
But when she took my palm, she read the brown
Fingers for too much smoking and the lines
Of time and fate for a long and famous life.
“Soon you will take a trip by land and sea.”
Across the hall, her husband, half asleep
And propped high on his pillows, when I bent
To shake his hand, seeing my uniform,
Called in a whisper as if he still dreamed,
“I told him not to go to Russia!” Then,
Remembering the woman at my jeep,
Among the smoking tanks and half-tracks, crying,
“My husband fell in Russia!” I thought I saw
For him the summer uniforms in snow,
Partisans, savage reprisals, day-long strafing,
Long lines of prisoners never to return,
Comrades armless, legless, and blind. But he,
Clutching my sleeve to pull me closer, whispered,
“It was the SS did it, not my men.
The week before the armistice, they took
Three just-conscripted boys who were afraid
And hanged them, German children, the sky green
Above the uniforms too big for them,
As we saw when we found and cut them down.
It was then that I despaired to live or die.”
The secretaries waiting with their coats on,
She thanked me for my visit, and, “Next week
Bring cigarettes and coffee, please,” she said.
poem by Edgar Bowers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Uniforms
(3/9/12)
So many uniforms worn in this life, and inside them
You'll find your loved ones -your soul mate
Son, daughter, husband, or wife.
Firemen, policemen, nurses, and military too
They all have a job to do.
And as you look at them with pride
You thank god they're by your side.
The uniform does not make the person
But the person makes the uniform.
Because in it they pour the heart and soul
And it's there where they belong.
The firemen and women who run into a burning house
The cop who goes into the line of fire
The nurse who held their hand on you to stop the bleeding
And of course the military soldier
Who protects our country day and night
And will give up their lives in a fight.
Yet we do not stop and say:
"Thank you for all that you do
I am very proud to know you."
Their uniforms are just their shells
And at times they go thru hell.
But there is a person who never wore a uniform
But created all of them who wear it.
He is all these people rolled into one
He is "GODS SON".
He made these uniforms so that we can see their worth
And it was given to them from their birth.
So many uniforms to show what we do
But it doesn't show the inner you.
This uniform is seen only by god
It is called the human heart.
This uniform can not be replaced
by anything on this earth
For it was given by god at our birth.
We can be as beautiful or as vicious
As any animal on this earth, or as
Soft and sensitive as the most delicate flower
This is given to us from the lords powers.
Let us rejoice in what he has given
And make this life " worth living".
© L.Rams
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What it means is that some of Charles' press secretaries have been better than others as some of the Queen's press secretaries have been better than others.
quote by Anthony Holden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blind Couple
I wanna write this poem
with my long black pen
I like this pen very much
ı ts writings
why I cannot understand
my brothers also lı ke the pens too
they are not just pens
they are indstruments brought from heaven
to write your petitions to somebady above
some like it black
some blue
some red
ı always prefer black
why I do not understand
now
GOD informed
at the beginning of the holy book
read....read...read and read again
then comes writing
so ı wanna read the world before writing
universe is not my business yet
look at thgis couple on the pavement
walkı ng cautı ously and care fully
a white long stick in yhe hand of the wife
tapping on the stones
listen to it
a child is in the bosom of the husband
clad clean and neat
you cannat calll them blind
they are walking with the help of god
walking happily
talking happı ly
like singing a hymn
thgey do not need any help
they willl lose lose balance
if you try to help
just watch them
leave them alone
ı try to clean my near sighted eyes
and try to read the far aways
but ı ı nderstand
ı have only read A..B.C..
of the divine alphabet
even them not so easily and clearly
when ı look at this couple
with a child in their bosoms
as their future and hope
ı understand the only
and the bitter truth
they were not blind
ı was the only...the pure blind
ı read it
and then write
poem by Metin Sahin
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Keep Moving
Hurry up
Dont slow down
Pick a time
Dont let hands pull you down
If youre waiting
Have it up
Move along
Say goodbye
Dont let words stay too long
If youre leaving
It read
We missed you
Between the lines
It said hold it high
With a smile
Speak out loud
With the mind of a child
If youre lucky
It read
We missed you
Between the lines
It said hurry up
We really must be going theres no time to delay
We have to leave our message because we cant stay
It really is important so remember take care
Please keep on moving cos theres nobody there
It read
We missed you
Between the lines it said
Weve waited for so long
But now its time t-t-to keep moving along
Here and there are the signs
On the road give way to stop and go
When youre moving
It read
We missed you
Between the lines it said
Weve waited for so long
But now its time to to to keep moving along
Keep moving, youve got to keep moving
Keep, keep, youve got to keep moving
To keep moving along
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between The Lines
Verse 1:
Ive been searching
Ive been thinking
Ive been searching so long
What I am looking for
Ive been hearing love will hit you
But everybodys wrong
Cause I just happen to notice
That certain look in your eye
Chorus:
Im reading between the lines
I didnt need no neon signs
To notice baby
I never before had you on my mind
But now I really do
Verse 2:
Nothing major ever happened
But its the greatest feeling Ive ever had
Strong emotions all have left me
Just a tenderness inside my heart
Just happened to notice a knowing smile
Chorus
(now I really do)
Just happened, I noticed
That certain look in your eyes
Im reading between the lines
I didnt need no neon signs
To notice baby
I never before had you on my mind
Im reading between the lines
I didnt need, didnt need no neon
To notice baby
I never before, never before
I knew it, I knew it
Bridge:
Started dreamin about you baby
Now I know just what Im feeling
Can it be you are my baby?
Never gonna let you go
Oh it took so long to feel it
(so very long to feel it)
But it was worth the waiting baby
Never gonna-never gonna let you go
(read between, read between the lines)
Didnt need no neon signs
Oh it took so long to feel it
(so very long to feel it)
But it was worth the waiting baby
(read between, read between the lines)
Didnt need, didnt need, didnt need no neon
(notice baby)
(read between, read between the lines)
I didnt need no neon signs
I knew it, I knew it
(read between, read between the lines)
Between the lines
(read between, read between the lines)
Im reading between the lines....
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clothes
Walking back to the office after lunch,
I saw Hans. “Mister Isham, Mister Isham,”
He called out in his hurry, “Herr Wegner needs you.
A woman waiting for a border pass
Took poison, she is dead, and the police
Are there to take the body.” In the hall,
The secretaries stood outside their doors
Silently waiting with Wegner. “Sir,” he said,
“It was her answer on the questionnaire,
A clerk for the Gestapo. So it was.”
Within the outer office, by the row
Of wooden chairs, one lying on its side,
On the discolored brown linoleum floor
Under a GI blanket was the lost
Unmoving shape; uncovered, from a fold,
A dirty foot half out of a dirty shoe,
Once white, heel bent, the sole worn through, the skin
Bruised red and calloused, uncut toenails curved
And veined like an old ivory. No one spoke.
Police stood at attention by a stretcher.
After an empty moment, suddenly
Bent over as if taken by a cramp,
I sobbed out loud and, on my uniform,
Vomited up my lunch—over the tie,
The polished buttons and insignia,
The little strips of color and the green
Eisenhower jacket with its Eagle patch,
The taut pants in a crease, the glistening jump-boots—
Vomiting and still sobbing, like a child
Awakened in the night, and sick. Wegner and Hans
Held me, murmuring, “Ach, dear sir, the war
Is over and not over, such things happen.”
While no one else moved, Frau Schmidt brought a towel
To clean me off before Hans walked me back,
My arm across his shoulders and I retelling
The story of how, near Zell am See, we found,
Hung from a tree in leaf, the final sack
Of bones, in rotted Wehrmacht green. In the house
An SS lord had furnished for his mistress—
Deep sofas, Persian rugs, and velvet drapes—
Frau König took my clothes. In my own room,
Wearing the Gucci robe Bouchard had taken
From a fine house before we got to Ulm,
Instead of lying down to rest, I studied
The book I read for German with Frau Schmidt,
Goethe’s Italian Journey. Through the window,
The Watchman’s upper slopes were shadows, green
And purple with the afternoon, its snows
Melting, its double peaks the victory sign.
poem by Edgar Bowers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smokin The Herb Again
Yo yo yo, yo, yo yo what
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Damn, I really wish I could find my sack man
Must have got eaten by pac-man
If I had it I could smoke again
Smoke with my friends to the very end
But now Im trying to comprehend
Whens the next time that Ill smoke again
I need to know, please tell when will we smoke again
I got a buddy, his name is ted
Hes got a problem going through his head
He doesnt know how to puff puff give
But I like so Ill teach him and Ill let him live
Everyday we teach him right
When he divides, we have to fight
But at the end of the trying day
We says its ok and we puff away
Just the other night, I saw you, you were smokin not sharing and being tight
But thats ok, you are my friend, well smoking until the very end
The lessons that we put out, we order you to try it out
Its nice to smoke, yea thats what were all about
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Hey, ho, hey ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking everywhere
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking all together
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chapter And Verse
I got the dictionary in my hand
But I can't seem to find the word I'm looking for
I've checked every letter, now I'm up to Z
There just ain't anymore
I've got a million choices in my head
If I could only chose the one that says it best
I shelled out a quarter for a greeting card
Now I can't seem to get my pen to do the rest
But I know it all by heart, chapter and verse
I'll quote you any part, every word
But it's so deep inside it can't be heard
I've got the Sunday paper in my hand
And I've been working on the weekly cryptogram
I know there's a message in between the lines
That's the same way I am
I got the crossword puzzle half complete
But now I need another word four letters long
It's just like the way I want a perfect fit
I can settle for less but all of them are wrong
There could be no jealousy over my poetry
It's my weakest quality, no vocabulary
I got the scrabble letters in a pile
But there could never be enough to say it all
I know you don't wanna hear the same old line
So you'll just have the read the writing on the wall
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Personal Trainer
husband
didn't pay attention when she started to change her look,
after all, she'd been saying how she wanted to for a while &
it seemed to make sense,
what with her going back to the gym full time,
after a period of time away
when they first had been married-
husband just went about his days
working more hours than he knew what to do with,
business was good &
with all the business around him seeming to fail,
he'd been putting away for the life he imagined in the future,
with or without
her-
but her time spent at the gym seemed to increase &
thought her body began to get trimmer, sexier, tighter, stronger &
she seemed to walk around the house with a new zest for life
(when he was there to see her) ,
he still didn't notice that
the personal trainer had moved in-
she had said something to him,
but he was listening less & less
as he had more & more to worry about at work,
for it was all part of building his empire.
the personal trainer was a less successful man
by the standard that money can by,
but he listened to her
as he traced her curves with his fingers in the gym
with palms of his hand smoothly gliding over her muscles
making her body quiver &
it wasn't long before in the car outside the gym
they consummated the professional relationship
again &
again &
again &
again.
as she began to show less interest in sex with her husband,
he wrote it off as a side-effect of marriage &
found himself a main squeeze on the side,
a 20 something who needed money to get her through college
with a perkiness that made him feel young again &
a body that wouldn't quit-
as he grew more distant from the wife,
she grew closer to the personal trainer,
until the day when she brought him home to the house,
when she swore the husband would be gone.
husband found out the way a husband will
when husband had been no longer interested
until another shows his face, as it is only jealousy then
which kicks in, making husband suddenly care-
but personal trainer put husband on the ground
when husband came into his own bedroom
to find personal trainer banging away his bride
who now had no interest in husband-
husband sued the personal trainer for assault &
bride to be divorced husband, taking half of everything he had,
breaking his empire down to nothing
as he had been stupid enough to not require a prenup
at the beginning of it all.
poem by Andrew Delapruch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Read Between The Lines
Uh hu
You got to read between the lines
You got to read between the lines
You got to read between the lines
Ah ah ah ah
Late afternoon
Its the sun going down
A call on the cell
Why is he in such a hurry
Leaving the room
Hes mumbling too
Now look what hes doing
Hes leaving out the room
No explanation
No ask for location
Just watching him pacing
Wonder who hes chasing
Looks like versation
The end of debation
Hed love to go swing and
(chorus)
You better open your mind
And read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Hot in the morning
Im up waiting for breakfast
Know your getting restless
This fool is full of questions
Little replying
Whole lot of denying
Instead I feel life in
So why do you keep on trying
Touch for the median
Now hes a comedian
Thats all the more reason
Its changing like the season
Are you still pleasing
How soon youll be leaving
Which one hell be creeping
(chorus)
(bridge)
Your replies are getting old
Its in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Your replies again told
Look in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Your replies are getting old
Its in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Your replies again told
Look in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Dont really think your pulling one over me
Cause i
I know whats going on
Dont hope you wont be planning on running me
Cause ah cause ah
Ill be gone
Dont really think your pulling one over me
Cause i
I know whats going on
Dont hope you wont be planning on runing me
Cause ah cause ah
Ill be gone
Cause youre thinking
Your ___ aint mistaken
My temperatures peaking
Now why is you barely speaking
Busting his bubble
And he knows hes in trouble
Hes talking in doubles
I listen to him hardly believing
Changing the story
And trying to ignore me
Still reaching out for me
Still aint no point in reaching
Give me a reason
To put you back on the line
You wasted enough time
I had to open my mind
And read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
(bridge repete 2xs)
song performed by by Aaliyah
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Military wives- The silent ranks
I wear no uniforms no blue or army greens I am in the military ranks rarely seen I have no rank upon my shoulders salutes i do not give the military world is the place i live I'm not in the chain of command orders i do not get my husband is the one who does this i cannot forget I'm not the one who fires the weapon who put my life on the line though my job is just as tough I'm the one that's left behind my husband is a patriot a brave prideful man and the call to serve his country not all can understand behind the lines i see the thing needed to keep this country free my husband make the sacrifice but so do our children and i I love the man i married soldiering is his life I stand in the silent ranks know as the military wives
poem by Charity Howard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Will Take A Long, Long Time
Sunny called, I was in the hall
And made a note I have to paint the kitchen walls
An angel smiled across the room
All in all, it was a lazy afternoon
Then I thought about you
I think it was some sweet song that I heard
Got to get goin goin ahead
It will take a long, long time
Got to go ahead and deal with my life
It has taken such a long time this time
Sunny called, I was in the bath
And heard the rain hit the roof and tiles real hard (hit the roof real hard/hit the roof)
Then I ran through my magazines
A few letters poorly hidden in a jar (hidden in a jar/oh what a jar!)
And I thought about you
It must have been some old pictures I found
Got to get goin goin ahead
It will take a long, long time, yea yea
Got to go ahead and deal with my life
It has taken such a long time this time
Inganakee leo yo
Inganakee leo
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Honey-Do List (This is my attempt at a Sestina)
I wrote a long honey-do list
and handed it to my husband.
With a smile he read it and with a fold
he stuffed it in his pocket.
I'll get to this as soon as I can,
but can't you hear the cry from the dogs.
Who can't hear the cry of the dogs?
Did you not read my list?
If you won't do it I can,
I said to my loving husband
I took the list from his pocket.
And opened it at the fold.
It was closed with a fold,
because I want to hunt my dogs.
Now return it to my pocket.
I will get to the list,
Said my loving husband.
I'll get to it when I can.
I'm doing the best I can,
and he creased it at the fold.
Cried out my loving husband,
you know I love my dogs.
I'll get around to this list
and returned it to his pocket.
With my fingers I tapped the pocket,
maybe you can't but I can,
dropp you from my list.
Grabbing me he did fold
me in his arms like he does his dogs.
I am your loving husband.
I promise you said my loving husband,
with a hand on his heart across his pocket
I love you more than my dogs
I'll get to you when I can
Please return me to your fold
Because you know you head my list
Thirty-two dogs and one husband
added to my list and stuffed in a pocket
Enjoy it while I can and iron out our differences at the fold.
poem by Victoria Dame
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Requiescit
I cannot tell his story. He was one
To whom the riddle of our human life
Was strangely put, and who, because of that
And that he could not read it, died. But a short hour
Before he passed, the woman who stood by,
Weeping as once she had wept to see him born,
Tired with her watching looked into his face
And saw the heavy eyelids dropping down
Loaded with sleep. And she, for all her tears,
Bent for the hundredth time to ease his bed.
And, as she almost touched him, smoothing out
The ruffled pillows, close into her ear
He whispered, never lifting up his eyes:
``No matter now. I shall be soon asleep.''
And then, as if he would pursue the thought
A little way as once he loved to do,
And yet too weak to catch it, he went on:
``And what a trouble it has been to keep
This pillow smooth! And in a little while
It will not want another touch; and then--
This aching head of mine will have done with thought.
Thought! Thought!'' But loud the aged woman sobbed,
``Poor soul, poor gentleman.'' So they remained
For a brief space, the goodwife standing there
Knotting her wrinkled hands and he hard by
Upon the bed and breathing heavily.
For he seemed sunk again in that dull trance
Through which men often pass away from life,
When death, as the lion does, has shaken his prey
And he lies numb and dumb and powerless.
She listened. He was telling slowly over
The names of those whom he had loved in youth.
Many were strange to her; and then there came
One she knew well. She started at the sound
She had not heard for years, and bending near
Heard him repeat it twice. She whispered hoarsely:
``Have you no word for her?''--yet stopped again
Because his eyes were open. Doubtingly
They wandered to her own and seemed to say
``Who, and what is it that you ask?'' And she
Spoke it again. He seemed to catch the name
And said it after her, but like a child
Which knows not what it speaks; and afterwards:
``Ah! Bridget, I have quite forgot that story,
And now, in half an hour, it is not long,
I shall have clean forgotten the name too.''
She cried, ``Oh Sir, it is a life too late.
Would God you had forgot it long ago!''
The tears stole slowly down her withered cheeks
And fell upon his hands. She did not move
While he went murmuring on: ``'Tis very well
Thus to forget. And what a wonder too
It now is''--and there came a sudden light
Into his eyes--``that one should ever care
To recollect a single day of life.
I used to think and plan and plot and scheme
How I might build my life in such a way
That I should take fine memories to my grave.
And now what a small matter 'tis to know
How the years went, when death in half an hour
Is all that is left of them! No matter now,
But only to sleep sound in any bed
And have no dreams.'' His eyes grew dim again
As he ceased speaking. And the woman knew
That he was dying. ``He is gone,'' she said.
And then she started muttering half aloud
``They cannot pass without the sacraments,
These gentle--folks.'' And so she hurried out.
The dying man smiled. When they came again,
She whispered in his ear, and looking down
Saw him still smiling; so she lit in haste
A candle by the bed and knelt aside.
They put the holy oils upon his hands,
Which closed upon the fingers of the priest.
The priest bent over him and laid his ear
To the half--open mouth and presently,
Thinking he heard some words, gave absolution.
But, when they would have gone on with the rest,
They found that he was dead. They buried him
With some small pomp to comfort the old dame,
Who said her master was a gentleman
And must be followed with a mourning coach
And mutes and weepers. There was no one else.
His name is cut upon a stone. His dreams
Were written on Time's hem; and Time has fled
And taken him and them. The grass is green
Upon his grave. I cannot doubt he sleeps.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chapter & Verse
I got the dictionary in my hand
But I cant seem to find the word Im looking for
Ive checked every letter, now Im up to z
There just aint anymore
Ive got a million choices in my head
If I could only chose the one that says it best
I shelled out a quarter for a greeting card
Now I cant seem to get my pen to do the rest
But I know it all by heart, chapter and verse
Ill quote you any part, every word
But its so deep inside it cant be heard
Ive got the sunday paper in my hand
And Ive been working on the weekly cryptogram
I know theres a message in between the lines
Thats the same way I am
I got the crossword puzzle half complete
But now I need another word four letters long
Its just like the way I want a perfect fit
I can settle for less but all of them are wrong
There could be no jealousy over my poetry
Its my weakest quality, no vocabulary
I got the scrabble letters in a pile
But there could never be enough to say it all
I know you dont wanna hear the same old line
So youll just have the read the writing on the wall
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lost Paradise
It was a spring
Early in the morning
A bird on the wing
Old lonely men were smoking and drinking
Past days remembering.
Day time I did nothing
Only reading
What else I had to do?
Except smoking and drinking.
I hear a lullaby
From far away
A sweet peculiar voice
Somewhere on the hills
Remembering my youth.
Oh! how I dreamed of her
Lost as a wounded soldier
The battle was over
We departed forever.
Oh! how I missed her
For my own fault
Still I can remember what she told.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Letters
She held a pack of love letters tied with ribbons and bows.
these were the love letters that she would never show.
Every one of them was dated first to last
These were the letters that held a life past.
Times may pass and things may change
But memories stay the same.
The writing of love letters had slowly disappeared
But she held on to them from year to year.
She sat with the letters in her lap.
As the tears rolled down her eyes
He had said he would be with her
Till the day he died
And fifty years later
He met his maker
And was carried to the cemetery
by the undertaker.
The letters had been written
with tenderness and love
Proclaiming every thing
Even the stars above.
He said life was meaningless if with her
His life he could not share.
And losing her was something
he could not bear.
Now that he was gone and she
Was left all alone.
The house didn’t seem
like much of a home.
She knew her children would not understand
Why she held the love letters in her hand.
These were the memories that kept her alive
And on that she couldn’t deny.
But her mind and body was fading fast
And she knew she could not last.
So to her children she bequeathed
The letters that she cherished all her life
For that was her husband, and she was his wife.
These are the love letters that your father
Wrote to me when we were young and carefree.
He told me of all that life had to offer.
And of all the love he had for me
And that he wanted to raise a family.
When you read his letters you will know
Why I loved this man so.
And now it’s time for me to go.
Because your father awaits me on the other side
And we’ll be together for all of time
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Even An Old Man Does Not Wish To Read
EVEN AN OLD MAN DOES NOT WISH TO READ
Even an Old Man does not wish to read
An Old Man’s Poetry-
What is the use of bad health litanies
And endless complaints of disappointments?
And wonderings about Waste and Loss
And about Time never to return
And all one has erred in?
An Old Man longs for Beginning again.
An Old man wants what he cannot have
And wishes to be what he cannot be-
And write as if there were new worlds waiting to be found within himself
And great adventures and explorations in writing and writing and writing
An old man longs for freshness deep down things
And dry dry dry is all
Theory
And Grey his life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Silent Ranks
I wear no uniforms, no blues or greens
But I am in the Army of the Ranks rarely seen
I have no rank upon my shoulders- salutes I do not give
But the military world is the place where I live
I'm not in the chain of command, orders I do not give or get
But my husband is the one who does, and this I can't forget
I'm not the one who fires the weapon, who puts my life on the line
But my job is just as tough, I'm the one that's left behind
My husband is a patriot, a brave and prideful man
And the call to serve his country not all can understand
Behind the lines I see the things needed to keep this country free
My husband makes the sacrifice, but so do the kids and me
I love the man I married, military is his life
So I pledge to support my hero
And stand among the ranks as the
Unknown Army Wife...
poem by Courtney Lane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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