Monday, September 27, 2010

Standing tall

A young man, a soldier,
one leg torn away
teetering in the lobby,
of the downtown hotel
… that day.

Balance, mind and body
all astray,
he heard a noise
and quickly turned away.

He fell, sliding to the earth
on the hard lobby floor
fucking leg; he yelled
what a bloody curse.

They all rushed,
not sure what to do
then across the room,
a yell was heard;
Stop! Leave him where he is,
and everything went hush….

The man walked over,
looking down he said;
Your badge, is the regiment
that I was in….

Do you need a hand,
or would you prefer to stand.
Struggled to his feet,
nothing to be heard, not a peep.

Sweating at the brow, he made…
he made himself, stand tall.
Putting out his hand, he said
Glad to meet you sir, the pleasure
is all mine; and thank you,
I’ll be just fine!

The pleasures mine young man
I knew you’d want to stand
tall and proud,
not needing our helping hand.

Standing tall, a nod, a wink
how life changes in a blink
regardless, what you think.

Then a smile between old friends
it seemed.
Regardless of their ages, been
they both knew what they’ve seen.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Power of Music

Inspired by a true story, as told by a WW 2 veteran:
I was scared
frightened, like the rest
could I make the grade
could I pass the test.

Trenches cold,
frozen feet, mud, rain and sleet
determining, the test of time.

If I peered, just a glimpse upon
would he shoot, shoot me dead.

They, my friends,
told me not to play,
if you do… that’s it,
this will be your day.

I thought a while,
then thought of him,
the boy on the other hill,
just like me - but still…

I pursed my lips,
parched of throat
took a breath, then played,
Lily Marlene…
a love song, for my enemy,
just a boy, a man…, just for him.

He has a mother, father, sister
brother too,
no different than me, or you

On the morn, a call went out
who played that song
a prisoner, sorrow shouts
he wants to know,
with a whisper in his throat.

I couldn’t fire, you made me think,
my family and my wife to be…
they all need me…

My hand shot out
gentle as can be
shaking his
with glistening eyes
sobbing soon to be…

He’s not the enemy,
he’s no different
than you or me.

The power of music

Monday, September 20, 2010

A Crimson Tide

Slipping beneath, a crimson tide,
evidence we wish to hide
under the beauty, of an evening’s sky.

Dark clouds, gather - brushing in
pastel colours, filtering overhead… the sin
still… motionless, fading,
is the pleasure within -
one fights, one sin’s

Do you ever feel cold inside
digging deep, looking
for the warmth to hide
your frigid thoughts abound
… then abide.

Swoosh, as the waves come in
tossing, twirling, pulling
as the tide goes out
crimson, is the spot
as darkened clouds gather
watching from above, seeing
where the soul was bought

One man walks,
the other…. whispers secrets, to the sea
with blackness all around
he’s been pushed….

Red sky in morning,
the old sailors warning,
holds the beauty of the tale
washing ashore, in the sea no more
One man talks,
the other off to jail.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Just Listen

Please - please listen,
just for this…one moment…
I ask nothing more…
but listen

Shhh, please…shh….
listen - listen…LISten
ahhhh - Just Listen - …listen…please

Listen to my heart
that’s all I ask - listen to my heart
listen to it beat, feel it beat
it beats for you, always you… just you

Give me your hand…please
it’s okay, look…
place it here - on my chest
just listen….shhh, listen
can you feel it - it’s you
it beats for you

Tell me - what do you hear….ahhhhh…..
yes…it’s my heart - my heart
….my heart - it’s breaking -
it’s breaking….

It’s breaking….for you

Just listen - just listen

Can you hear it now

Its breaking apart…for you


just listen

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Flat and simple, then

I showed this poem to my wife, but she questioned why I had chosen to bracket the “k” in [k]night.  So I thought I had better explain this poem, which may or may not be a good thing, as I prefer others to come to their own conclusions, regardless:

This poem is about young boys, dreaming about being soldiers - knights in shining armour and life as a child being much simpler at that age. The reality being much different, and the knights of old, soon turns to nights of fighting dragons of a different nature...

The earth was flat and simple
young, in heart and mind
perils but a book to read
not a thought of mind.

Swords were swung
games played
[k]nights, were shining still
amongst the quiet, peace and calm,
of the youthful thrilling flames - of life.

The village of my heart
was Strong
built upon the bones
of youthful dreams
mortar, still spilling from the seams

A story from days of old
not but 30-years ago, were told
when the earth was flat and simple
and the perils, nothing more, than
a chin, filled with childhood pimples.

Far before the fanciful dreams
when my [k]nights were young and bold
of fighting dragons and dancing with fire
were the stories, wishing to be told.

Now the [k]nights are rusty,
creaking from the strain…, the
misery and…. the bloody rain.

Brick and mortar long past gone,
thatched roofs pouring in
struggled to maintain
a withered village of the heart,
now pumping, filled with pain.

Peaceful are the [k]nights no more
fanciful dreams, now filled with gore
to lay my head upon the floor, and think…
of when the earth was flat and simple
bringing calm to the village of my heart,
and peace to my [k]nights mind, when
everything… was flat and simple.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Afternoon sail

Listless ~~ floating ~~
upon the sea… arms spread wide,
expressionless, that’s me.

Driven, from the dock
into the pounding hail,
crashing waves, flat bottom dory bails
water deep, knuckles white and cold
piercing cries, cutting through wind…
blessed those, that live without sin
upon the sheets of sails, and the blue back fins

It’s a splendid day, for an afternoon sail.

Slender mast, spars aghast,
tearing sails, which support the blast, from
bone, chilling wind…. coming from up North
No whispering to be found
on the open deck of this vessel - sea bound.

Fat sails, men with buckets…Bail…bail - bail…
creaking decks, searing stout arms, tearing muscle and limbs
blessed those, that live without sin
upon the oceans with the blue back fins

Black as night, 200-miles off the coast
waves galore, smashing, pounding…sinking
thrashing peaks of white, grasping men on sight
like a ghost ship, drifting…off to sleep
upon the ocean floor so deep,
no saviors to be seen

Listless ~~ floating ~~
upon the sea… arms spread wide,
expressionless, that’s me

Waiting, for the tides to take me home
to my wife… and family
It’s a splendid day, for an afternoon sail,
with nothing but darkness,
peacefully surrounding me,
and the now calm seas.

Monday, September 13, 2010


For all my fellow soldiers – regardless of country; for those who lived and especially for all those who died.

I faltered in my step
hesitate, is true
youthful inexperience
painful memories to

We laughed and trained
all is fun, yet not games
but we – new
that within a day or two
everything would change
this ... we knew – to

Nervous grins
hiding fear
bravado, at its best
we...we, were no different,
from the rest

I faltered in my step
hesitate, is true
but not for long
as our friendships grew

a special bond
born from piss and shit, and blood
What a bloody mess..., it was
but this bonded us
if you were there, you’d know
simply, just because....

Now, those days are long ago
yet never far away
the fear you see,
is always, very - near to me...

Regardless, of those days or nights
long since passed, or just
the other night, from last
it’s the lads, you see, and
there enduring...

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Swish Swish swish

Second poem today of real life events… what an interesting life I lead… okay you can stop laughing now. Fine keep laughing…it’s all good :-)

Walking merrily along one day,
I thought I heard a noise

I stopped and glanced about
but heard nothing,
as I poised

Hmmm I thought,
strangest thing is that

Pitter patter off I go,
down the lane again.

Swish Swish swish

What the hell is that, I said!

Did you hear that?
Well yes I did, said my dog
looking at me funny.

Squinting eyes, I look about
peering at my shoes.

Nothing there I think,
and off I go,
swishing down the street.

Well, that’s it I said,
surely a joke am I, as I spy about.

I lift one foot, then the other,
nothing I can see, but me
standing like a fool, in the middle of this city sea,
with people all about.

Swish Swish swish again.

What’s this all about.

On the bottom of my shoe you see,
was a two-way piece of tape,
sticking to the ground,
then sticking it to me.

Old woman of Nagasaki

This poem is a true reflection of an event, which took place in 1988, during my 3-days stay in Nagasaki while serving onboard HMCS Terra Nova.

Off the ship, towards the pier
briskly walking, trains are near

Viewing map, excited and confused
silently, a hand in mine
old women, my muse.

Like a mountain, above the rest
I stood 2-foot taller, no mood for jest

She held my hand, no menace felt
peering straight ahead, mind in doubt

Shuttering stop, doors so wide
peering out, wishing I could hide

Hand on back, she pushed me out
pointing straight ahead, not even a shout

On the platform, their I stood
looking back, she knew I would

Wrinkled face, stooped of stance
giving me a second chance
yet I knew in a single glance
it’s me, who felt disgrace
never loosing face, she smiled and waved goodbye

In that moment, I nearly cried
realizing the impact, of all who died

I took the moment, still as death
looking down the street….
visualizing, what lay ahead

Listening to the sounds around
hearing screams…43-years of
nightmare dreams

Slowly walking to the park
no peace of mind today
my heart was crumbling
fraying at the seems

A statue up ahead, was seen, pointing
at me, or so it seemed

Looking left and right, then all around
looking at the ground, I had nowhere else
to look… but up….
500-metres in the air
I couldn’t fathom, such despair

Another hand reached out for mine
this time a child, how sublime
Little uniform, crisp and clean
giggling little children, an outing to be seen

Teacher pointing camera,
30 kids, surround…
statue and a fountain, in the backdrop
as I look around.

My thumb begins to bend
pain shooting through my hand and then
smiling little boy, standing by, holding on my wrist
he began to twist.

I smiled and looked about, looking for a friend
gently trying to remove his fingers
before he broke my thumb, but then.

Realizing this pain, I could withstand
little by little he twisted my hand
standing in the midst of them
I looked at him, and gently urged him on
my eyes focused on what he felt
dealing with the pain he dealt
I knew he had a right, to twist and bend my hand

Pictures taken, all have gone
thumb is swollen, throbbing pain
soothing knowledge gained
the old women on the train,
and the little boy who caused me pain

Standing by the statue, still - pointing at me
telling me, asking me - reminding me

She held my hand; with such loving grace,
piercing pain on that little boys grinning face
it was I who felt disgraced.

Walking back to ship that day, it seemed so very far...away
I met the Captain, on the deck, peering into space
he asked me how I was, and I said;

I’ve been humbled, and put in my place.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Ever wonder

Did you ever wonder,
ever ask why,
ever just sit,
ever just cry.

That’s what I do.
Then always wonder why.

Ever wonder,
if its them, or her,
or you.

Never looking,
not really caring,
so we say.
It’s easier that way.

But deep and dark,
the bellows call,
sighing with the pain,
bouncing thoughts
off every wall
some even with distain.

Did you ever wonder
… just once

Did you
ever ask why,
ever just sit,
ever just….

That’s what I do.

I know longer ask why.

I just sit and cry…

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Just her and I, and me

We used to sit,
underneath the tree.
Just her and I, and me

Summer nights,
seemed so sweet.
Innocent and bright,
as we sat underneath
the lights.

Upon the grass,
leaning against the poll,
my mind would whirl,
of thoughts of her and I.

Just me you see,
in my mind,
of her and I.

Oh, too laugh and play,
they were grand old days,
Just her and I, and me.

Under that lamp,
leaning against the pole,
dreams were made,
and told.

I held her hand,
sweaty, and cold,
but the warmth, was
unmistakable, the movement
young and bold.

Her eyes, oh…,
how they would twinkle,
starlight’s in her soul.

She made me feel so good,
lighting up my dreams,
everything I did,
she said - I knew you could.

Winter came and days went by,
only choice, was to sit and stare,
and watch our dreams go by.

Days, and months and years,
fly by.
I sit and wonder why.
I should have asked her then,
rather then say goodbye.

Now I sit and think,
poor me,
it could have been,
Just her and I,
and me