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Just One More Cigarette...

It is evening they take him out of his cell and into
the walled court yard. An officer offers him a fag
he accepts, and smokes it slowly inhaling deeply.
The officer says, “don’t worry it will soon be over. “
Then they tie his hands behind his back, blindfold
him and place him against a pockmarked wall.
The officer asks if the prisoner, has a last word,
a message to the world or his family. The damned
shakes his head, a long silence, and a volley of fire.
Today, after being told by my doctor I’m an idiot,
I have stopped smoking.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Officer Blue

Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.
Oh officer blue,
I really love the things you do.
Its magical,
People in a human zoo.
Officer blue,
Cast a shadow on the wall,
But by torchlight even mice look tall.
Officer blue,
In a blaze of uniform,
And your stripes and badges to conform.
Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years old.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Officer Blue

Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.
Oh officer blue,
I really love the things you do.
Its magical,
People in a human zoo.
Officer blue,
Cast a shadow on the wall,
But by torchlight even mice look tall.
Officer blue,
In a blaze of uniform,
And your stripes and badges to conform.
Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years old.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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435

The Police Officer Arrested Them
Last Night While They Were Strolling On The Park
And This Is The Story:
He Asks For Their Names And They Say They Have None

He Asks From Where They Come From And They Say
They Do Not Really Know
He Asks Them Where They Are Going And They Tell Him
They Are Still Undecided

He Asks Them What Is In Their Bags And They Say They Are Just Nothing
He Asks Them Some More And They Say
They Have Nothing To Say Of Themselves
They Come From Nowhere

And They Are Heading Nowhere
And The Police Handcuffed Them
These Vagrants
These Potential Terrorists Of This Rural Place
Where The People Still Love Peace

And This Afternoon The Police Officer Brings Them All To Me
And He Tells Me About The Whole Story
About His Questions And Their Answers

And I Am Looking At Them And They Look At Me
Straight In My Eyes
With Dignity And Without Shame
With All Pride

That They Are Telling The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth
That This One Whose Age Is 16 And This Other One Whose Age Is 18
Are Simply Talking About
Themselves And About Us
And About The Policeman Himself

And Surely, I Agree
We Have No Names, We Do Not Know Where We Come From And We Do Not
Really Know Where We Are Going
We Are All Like That, In The Strictest Sense Of The Word, Except

For Our Little Pretensions
And So I Ordered The Policeman To Release Them All
And Let Them Be Themselves
And Let Them Go In Peace And Finish Their Journey With All Ease

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Is 16 And The Other 18

the police officer arrested them
last night while they were strolling on the park
and this is the story:

he asks for their names and they say they have none
he asks from where they come from and they say
they do not really know
he asks them where they are going and they tell him
they are still undecided
he asks them what is in their bags and they say they are just nothing
he asks them some more and they say
they have nothing to say of themselves

they come from nowhere
and they are heading nowhere

and the police handcuffed them
these vagrants
these potential terrorists of this rural place
where the people still love peace

and this afternoon the police officer brings them all to me
and he tells me about the whole story
about his questions and their answers

and i am looking at them and they look at me
straight in my eyes
with dignity and without shame
with all pride

that they are telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth

that this one whose age is 16 and this other one whose age is 18
are simply talking about
themselves
and about us
and about the policeman himself

and surely, i agree

we have no names, we do not know where we come from and we do not
really know where we are going

we are all like that, in the strictest sense of the word, except
for our little pretensions

and so i ordered the policeman to release them all
and let them be
themselves
and let them go in peace and finish their journey with all ease

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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All images generated by imaging technology are viewed in a walled-off location not visible to the public. The officer assisting the passenger never sees the image, and the officer viewing the image never interacts with the passenger. The imaging technology that we use cannot store, export, print or transmit images.

quote by Janet Napolitano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Snow

The angels the angels in the sky
One’s dressed as an officer
One’s dressed as a chef today
And the others sing
Fine sky-coloured officer
Sweet Spring when Christmas is long gone
Will deck you with a lovely sun
A lovely sun
The chef plucks geese
Ah! Snowfalls hiss
Fall and how I miss
My beloved in my arms

poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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My father was a police officer before he retired. One of my brothers is also a police officer, and I think they kind of expected I would do something along those lines, like become a fireman or something.

quote by Ryan Reynolds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In a time of constrained resources we will have to shift emphasis. but not necessarily from the traditional Political Officer to the traditional Economic Officer.

quote by Lawrence Eagleburger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is made the duty of every Commanding Officer in the Department, to arrest and send to these Headquarters, under guard, every officer or soldier who may be found absent from his command, without the regular leave in writing, prescribed by Regulations and General Orders.

quote by John H. Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Radar and the invisible Hunger!

An officer asked at the frontier;
'Have you seen anything? '
'Yes Sir, scattered objects in the enemy territory.'
The Radar Observer replied with a salute!
Then the officer ordered to the infantry
'Rapid fire! '

*Worldwide, nearly one billion people are faced with hunger and malnutrition everyday.Every five seconds a child dies of hunger and related courses.
-An honest news

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Reminder

A Message
Our old captain was pensioned off, he had been
the master on the same ship for ten years and at
sixty five he didn´t know where to go as his whole
life had been the sea. The first officer was taking
over. He had noticed the old man every morning
went on the bridge, opened a locked drawer and
read something from a folded piece of paper.
The first officer having sewed on an extra ring on
his uniform, now had four, was curious opened
the drawer. On the paper was written: starboard
is right and portside is left.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Old Boy Racer (Fun Poem 132)

While driving home one day
my old car blew up on me
and the transmission went kaput.
Upon getting another car,
I chose a smaller one,
the kind boy racers own.
Suddenly I became a speed demon
driving down the motorway doing a ton
with the wind ruffling
through the remaining hair I had.

One day while really pushing it,
blue lights began flashing behind me.
The cops told me to pull over,
which at once I did.
An officer approached my car
with me crammed behind the wheel.
'What speed do you think you were doing? '
'I don't know officer I couldn't see the speedo.'

'I clocked you at doing a 110.'
'Really! ' I said
as he wrote me out a ticket.
'I'd advise you to adjust your seat
so you can see the speedo.'
'Yes officer I will do that.' I replied.
I sat there for a moment;
a smile crept across my face.
My son will no believe it
when I show him the ticket.

He'll probably say
the Police had it wrong,
the ticket was probably for going slow.
I drove off after the Police had gone,
my foot to the floor again.
Back into my boy racer mode,
but in my case now
it was an old boy racer mode.

25-26 April 2012

poem by David Harris
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Her Woes

the social welfare
officer carries
her bouncing baby
boy

the social welfare
officer says the boy
is healthy

the mother has
meningitis and
cannot support
the boy

he needs a lot
of milk
he is heavy and
he smiles a
lot and he
stares at his
mother
who has no
mind of her own
now

the social welfare
officer carries
the baby in her arms
and i am signing
the papers
attesting to the
mother's having
to give up the
boy for
welfare,

her sister from
Calape
has six kids
and her husband
is jobless

the boy stares
at her mother
who says
she is moving
to another place
to forget him

she was raped.
she got pregnant.

they are poor.
and she has to give
up the boy

the boy keeps
staring at her
mother.

their woes.

would you like
to carry the boy, sir?

he says.
No. he is definite.
No. His answer.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Donkey Life 4 Office

today

i was sad

so.. sad...

i my office

officer

bite me

at hard words

words are very fool

so

i am not cool

i am very hot

so thinking

my officer words at home

i did not sleep well

i did not eat well

next day

i am going for office

not a healthy person

with patent

on body...

on mind...

office life is

donkey life...

what can i do...?

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Donkey Life

today

i was sad

so.. sad...

i my office

officer

bite me

at hard words

words are very fool

so

i am not cool

i am very hot

so thinking

my officer words at home

i did not sleep well

i did not eat well

next day

i am going for office

not a healthy person

with patent

on body...

on mind...

office life is

donkey life...

what can i do...?

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Well, mines was a sub machine gun. That was my personal weapon with being the first person in the patrol. I used to lead the patrol. Used to have a leading scout, a second scout and then the officer. The officer would be third. As I say, it was educational.

quote by David Walker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What to Say?

When he has been a celibate for ten years,
since his wife fell ill, and if she asks,
' Would you stay celibate if I died? ',
what he can say to his faithful wife.

When a non-alcoholic is on the wheels,
if a policeman in booze stops him
and begins to breathalyse him,
what he can say to him.

When a corrupt officer with greased palms
advises an honest clerk to keep away from graft,
what he can say to him.

When a forest officer colluding with loggers
for smuggling the valuable timbre, lectures
before the tribals not to denude the forests,
what they can tell him.

When the cops arrest the users
rather than the dealers of drugs,
what we can say about the system.

When a bag-lady is at the fag end of life,
after facing ups and downs all through,
if the astrologer makes predictions for
receiving money, love and luck,
what she can say of it.

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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One Day's Command

The plumed staff officer gallops
Along the swaying line,
That shakes as, beaten by hailstones,
Shakes the loaded autumn vine;
And the earth beneath is reddened,
But not with the stain of wine.

The regular shock of a battery
The rattling tumult stuns;
And its steady thrill through the hill-side
Like a pulse beneath it runs;
The many are dead around it,
But the few still work the guns.

'Who commands this battery?'
And Crosby his clear, young eyes
From the sliding gun-sights lifting
As the well-aimed death-bolt flies,
'I command it today, Sir!'
With a steady voice replies.

Answers as heroes answer,
With modest words and few,
Whose hearts and hands to duty
Even in death are true,
Though its awful light is breaking
Full on their blenchless view.

The officer passes onward
With a less troubled eye,
The words and the look unshaken
Bid every wild doubt fly;
He knows that the young commander
Is there to do or die.

To do
and
die; for the battle
And day of command are done,
While stands unmoved on the hill-side
Each shattered, blackened gun,
And Crosby in death beside them
A deathless name has won.

poem by Anonymous Americas
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Nose

No one cares for the nose

To go nose straight is the tao

If there were no eyes

You could see better with your nose

If there were no nose

you wouldnot distinguish the sweet from the bitter

And there would be no value judgements in the world

And it is the nose that keeps you hot in the cold

And that keeps you cold in Jakodabad

The nose is the vigilant customs officer

That does not allow any drug to your lungs

And the nose cannot be bribed

Oh Nose! the customs officer of the body

And the pivot of value judgement in the world

If that name thou love

Remain with us and teach the noseless world

That it must have a nose in this wartorn world

He who knows the greatness of nose

Surely goes to the realm of rose

In the life to come

Hurrah Let us compose hymns to nose

poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Whose Life is Worth More?

'Whose life is worth more? ' the SS officer asked.
Jacob Kogen did not answer.
In the eerie silence that ensued
the SS man drew his pistol.

'Tell me', he said, playing with the weapon,
'Whose life is worth more?
Yours? Your wife's? Your children's,
or the life of a stranger? '

'All human lives are equal', Kogen replied.
'You mean the life of a Jew and a non-Jew
has the same value? ' the SS officer asked.

'God created all human beings
equally entitled to their lives', Kogen said.

'In that case you will provide me 7,000 Jews',
the SS man said.

It was September 1,1942,
the third anniversary of the war's start,
the German attack on Poland
and Kogen was a member of the Jewish Council
in a Polish town.

He went home devastated.
He realized that The Nazis would take
the selected 7,000 people
outside the town in order to be shot.

'One shall not shed innocent blood
to save his own life', he told his wife.
And he added: 'A Jew Cannot decide
who will be taken for execution'.

Kogen and his family committed suicide.

poem by Paul Hartal
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