Best Admirals Poems
Years ago, my aunt developed mesothelioma. She and her husband did not have money for medical care. It was a Jewish hospital that took her in, and helped her through her last days free of charge.
The Jews have built many hospitals, made contributions to many charities, and established many foundations. The list is endless.
Jews have been instrumental in government and finance. They have served in our American armed forces from recruits to high level generals and admirals.
I have never seen a Jew burn an American flag.
I have never heard of a Jew cry out for his God while assaulting a woman.
Jews take their God seriously, and are respectful In prayer.
Jews are good pet owners. Many Jews own cats and/or dogs. Jews recognize dogs as one of God's gifts to all of us.
Jews endure a lot of hate and bullying, yet they stay strong.
Romeo Jaxx had a friend for a fool
So he never thought "Baby's in love."
He fought for his rights
and he slept through your dreams
With his self-centred wolverine paralysed
Drove out of the camp on a bright summer's day
waving last weekend's pass-out goodbye
Phoned Jenny, then Julie, who never complained
Filled his tank, with the world running dry.
Throws off the fatigues now, just too tired to fight,
He will walk to the beat
of another man's drum
sometimes valour's the best part of sin.
With a grin shoves his ring
on the pawnbroker's manicured thumb.
Now this story splits down three parallel lines.
My version, the truth and your lies
You saw him conversing with 12-year-old Jim
in myriad tongues, his back to the wind.
I found him saluting a girl in Key West,
Where admirals croak and malingerers lie.
We both know he broke each old, weary taboo
Well, salmon will leap
when they're straining to die.
Maybe Romeo Jaxx is of much sterner stuff
And never was swayed from some destiny's path.
Straight as a die
but the die is now cast,
the cast are now blind
and the blind are aghast.
Our Romeo sees that there's no one ahead
don't tell him, there's no one behind.
In the dead of night
Some years ago
A metamorphose transpired
Under full moon glow
A lady in black
In graveyard mist
Danced with the crows
In evolutionary twist
Her presence was surrounded
By luminous flows
Larva's were being shed
In dark butterfly grow
Her black dress becomes discarded
Shape-shifting in the dead of night
Red Admirals flutter
In demonic delight
They become butterfly winged elves
Patiently awaiting
To our moon our orb
Anticipating in taking
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy.php
In summer my garden comes alive
as graceful butterflies make it home.
Peacocks with vivid colours flit
from blossom to blossom
Busily working gathering nectar
pollinating as they go on to next
flower. All so pretty I love them all
visiting my climbing rambling roses.
Red Admirals, Swallow tails and monarchs
adding swathes of brilliant colour
chased by Skippers and Orange tips
as each one vies for one more bloom.
While Gatekeepers and Clouded Yellows
delicately sip from my hibiscus.
A cloud of Fritillary's descend on stocks
and Painted Ladies mock the sweet peas.
A drone of bumble bees sets the tune
for Tortoiseshells to dance to.
Purple Emperors set the scene
as they visit my asters and begonia's.
Ah! sweet summer flowers, all
are kissed by Comma's and Coppers
bringing my garden to life
with joy as they all busily work
written 08/12/2015
contest Skat's Butterflies
Born to the sea
Mind of water, flowing thoughts;
The currents beneath your words could change us all.
River heart, born to the sea;
The solace we seek waves to you and to me.
Join me on this voyage, over water, to a new land.
All hands on deck chairs are temporarily in the sand.
Cast ashore to repair our vessel,
But soon we shall cruise again, so hoist that sail.
Raise it so high, that the crow's nest will not be our peak
And the land dwellers will be the last people that we would wish to meet.
My crew and I are setting off on an adventure;
A journey across the deep blue, to a land of mischief and wonder.
The undiscovered land, on the other side of a new life.
We be pirates, so we be; so raise that Jolly Roger flag upon high.
Let all who see our symbol know the story of our ship.
The unsinkable voyager;
A blast from the past, blowing through the wind.
Raise the sails and let the wind take us in and move us on
And throughout the jagged edged cliffs and beyond!
And on past the mermaids that sit upon the rocks,
Singing such enchanting songs
And on past the things that they call ‘The Leviathan’.
Release the Kraken! The foulest beast from the Gods up above
And we shall continue this trek into the darkest of the rum.
To the bottom of the barrel, right down to the Admirals eye.
Let the birds be our guide to our next paradise.
Land ahoy! There be treasure there for sure;
So onward ya scurvy rats and be prepared to fight once more!
We are damned to forever sail,
Since the life at sea swallowed our cursed souls;
Now we travel these high seas in search of more silver and gold.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Teardrops of dews glistening
Breaks the days of dawn
Caterpillars shedding shells of cocoon
Awakening with yawns
The little fairies quaintly appear
Dancing their favorite dances, all the day long
But, where do the butterflies dance to
When the sun hides her head...
And the days are shamelessly gone?
They fill up my gardens
Frolic from tip of tulip to end of the rose
Next to sunflower, daffodil the flutter flies flown
Never attempting to speak even one little peep
Keeping their precious secrets
From sun up until the sundown
A parade of floats
Viceroy to the Monarch whom he tries to pretend
Royal and regal, ginger and black
Passes the hours while waltzing with flowers
But where does each of them go as processions end?
Dainty, the Painted lady curtseys
Among the swallowtails that swan through the weed
And the Admirals through the blade
But soon to hide away
Flying rainbows of season’s beginning to fade
And my magical gardens now they are bare
The little fairies all have disappeared
Following the whisper of wisps, of a new winter’s air
It’s the beginning of autumn
And soon will come the billows of snow
Did they take journey to a summer, in a far away land
Where oh, where did the butterflies go
Oh that I could break the chime that addles my brain constantly
That implanted seed of rhyme that worms in my subconscious
That causes me to live and dream in my restrictive literary world
Courted by couplets with ballad intoning in the near back ground
I hear the thoughts of betters that advise me to divorce my love
Perhaps I will beg my vowels and consonants to free me for a time
To let my mind flutter like red admirals on blossom filled buddleia
With the promise that I will return with gifts from afar to share
That I will gather my love in sweet nectar scented embraces
To assure them that I will always return to childhood friends
Freedom freely given will strengthen our knowledge and ability
Will let be seen that which hitherto was the domain of others
Bees seeking nectar
Red Admirals fluttering
Weekends to relax
I face you, you face me
This is a phase of reality
Practically death is eternity
Hope you got this constantly
That the truth reveals truth and lies are demonized
Visualize the truths and open all eyes
‘Cause the fact we have to face impacts all minds
But the price we had to cost more than our lives
As we cram knowledge in skulls in hope they'll turn wise
But lies for the wise are unspoken truths utilized
The streets are hard as our neighbors close their blinds
Life is war: you and I are landmines
As diseases of love making kill husbands and wives
The books were right, we are living in hard times
As the wealthy stay wealthy but the poor economize
The intelligent stay healthy but the ignorant are otherwise
Further, from the truth than they realize
That life is a trance we are all hypnotized
In this rat race of human disgrace
Changing the whole place
To pace the chase of the facts, we have to face
That life is a test we just have to ace
And learn after death that we are face to face
I face you, you face me
This is a phase of reality
Practically death is eternity
Hope you got this constantly
These fat cats with stomachs for tires must retire
As our leader’s facing their own desires
While these liars fuel the wrong nation’s fire
Let’s rehire admirals we admire
This nation uses compassion for fame and fashion
Good ideals come in rations
Where doubt is brought slavery is bought
Now we face feelings tagged by price
As the impression of the recession slightly rise
The value of a gesture isn’t a just reward
'Cause a simple smile, no one can afford
As this warning is future’s comedy
The tragedy of this parody is now someone else’s misery
As some live reverse to evil
To rock-the-vil on the society not civil
Chasing illusions only to catch nil
Facing fact from fictional thrill
In this rat race of human disgrace
Changing the whole place
To pace the chase of the facts, we have to face
That life is a test we just have to ace
And learn after death that we are face to face
in mass-produced photographs leaking
oils and plastics into oceans eternally
churning secret species speaking sonar
beyond the corridor of human tongues
awaiting arrivals admirals of slaughter promulgate
fading flags of kings and queens aging on God’s throne
as veins rise to the surface and lines on maps bulge winds
direct tyrannies toward destinations cultivated by natives
beholding prophecies piercing membranes of skylines
families gather in gluttonous homes quiet as guilt
consuming bounties bound in card-board consumed
by glowing signals processing visions of impotence
and incompetence revealing its radiating birthmark
shaped like a deformed diamond vapid as brutality
The Admiral’s Sun 5th draft – 6-11-2014
A pedestal for your glory and the ego’s your command,
your shadow darkens the people you demand.
Your rusting medals are demanding a respect,
beyond the value of those you do neglect.
The world is learning to shun this bloody valor,
well past due for society’s defining hour.
Beyond your limitations you dared not tread,
your father’s path repeated with dread.
Higher thinking would have polished your crown,
surpassing the gleam that soon finds the ground
Senility and death are your only companions now,
emptiness your spouse and still she does frown.
Michael G. Eggert, March-April, 2014, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
We were shaped and fashioned as true saviors of peace,
Endorsed to spread honor and knock the enemy off his feet,
So, I raised my right hand, before God and before man,
To defend our constitution on water or on land,
To spread democracy's gift of love,
A trowel craftsman's tool was used from above,
So, we need your support and your prayers,
Sometimes I wonder if anyone even cares,
When we fight all day and all night,
Can our Democrats and our Republicans do what is right?
To put on this uniform takes a very courageous person of a special breed,
For we fight not just for our country, but, for other nations that are in need,
Even to this very day my friend,
I can not forget,
When those mad men, flew our planes from those Airports,
And into those buildings with no remorse,
So, United we shall stand or divided we shall fall,
My Soldier's plea is that this great country pulls together,
And may God help us all,
Land of the liberty and home of the brave,
Distinguished folks like our Generals and our Admirals,
Judges and Pastors,
Mothers and Fathers,
Little boys and little girls who represent our country,
From all over this world,
I need you to take a stand with me,
From the north to the south,
And from the east coast to the west coast,
Let us all boldly proclaim my Soldier's plea
Nothin' should surprise the citizenry in the news reports anymore.
The latest puzzlin' saga occurred today off the California shore!
Look! Up in the sky! Is it Peter Pan, Superman or a UFO?
Strange that the generals with their fancy toys don't seem to know!
Some dude, somewhere seems to have fired a missile in the sky.
Now the blame game begins with fingers pointin' at the other guy!
Wizards at NORAD don't have a clue and are hunkered in their hole.
The Navy admirals are frantically countin' missiles on ships on patrol!
The Brass at Fort Fumble (more commonly known as the Pentagon),
Are scratchin' their skulls tryin' to figure out what is goin' on!
The Air Force, the likely culprit, ain't sayin' much about the matter.
Since the Marines ain't in the rocket business, they're enjoyin' all the chatter!
The Army is concerned about tanks and guns and are outside the loop.
News reporters keep babblin' away and speculatin' on the latest poop!
I suspect when the dust settles, it won't be a general who takes the flap,
But will probably be some lowly PFC somewhere who'll take the rap!
No one knows what they were shootin' at or from whence it came.
The numerous stories we've heard to date are pretty doggone lame.
If jug-butt generals and admirals who are paid to figure these things out
Can't do it, then my confidence in our nation's security is in serious doubt!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A problem with fundamentalist short-circuits
is their Left-dominant tendencies
over RightBrain polypathic-polyphonic resonant feelings.
Fundamentalism shrinks Left-RightBrain Both-And
WinWin ecopolitical thinking,
strategizing,
democratizing,
domesticating,
creolizing.
For example,
imagine your nationalistic domestic policies
to pit those who victoriously have
against marginalized and criminalized lepers,
parasites, really,
in your not-so-humble,
vaguely fascist,
opinion,
are not going so well
as you might have Republican conservationally predicted.
You need something
you know everyone, of importance, will champion,
so you point out that transgenderal confusions
are not appropriate to military-industrial's bottom-line
compete unto death
monoculturing focus.
Transgenders must, then, be an unnecessary economic liability
and political loyalty risk
because they aren't decisively anything fundamentally patriotic,
much less appropriately straight patriarchal.
Unfortunately,
for the fundamentalist Either-Or nonthinker,
without richly constant and diverse healthy relationships
with any ecopolitically multicultural depth,
what might sound like a political big win
over little inconsequential losers,
breaks down with actual one-on-one experience.
The anti-transgender agenda
breaks down because too many sergeants
and corporals,
lieutenants leaking counter-factuals
to admiring admirals
and generalist generals
about the long history
of incredibly excellent military-industrialized service
individual transgender personnel
in the thousands
have delivered in the past,
unlike a dysfunctional bicameral Congress
and a sociopathological White House;
whether a swampy, witch-infested dump,
or not.
Transgender co-intelligence
tends to understand
cooperative media economies
and political persuasion.
That's a bicameral nest of honey bees
you don't want to fundamentalistically mess with,
because they will make you look politically stupid
and economically bereft of moral integrity.
It's rather like believing health-assurance climates
of care-receiving
and for mutual healthcare-giving
is just a Democratic women's eco-survival issue
when your own nationalistic patriarchal prostate
is growing in a cancerous viral,
self-imploding,
wu-wei.
"Why is it that everyone seems younger to me these days?", I muse.
'Tis enough to give a feller a serious bout of the blues!
Wasn't that long ago that everyone looked so old to me.
My! How times have changed! I wonder how that can be?
When I was a young lad struggling to get through school,
Schoolmarms looked so old and dour (as a general rule).
Nowadays, they seem so young, chic and so engaging!
(Alas, could this be because it is me who's aging?)
The other day I saw my doctor for my annual screen.
To my alarm he looked to be about the age of seventeen!
His credentials I viewed, so I guess he knew what he was doing.
(Is my jaundiced view due to all these years I'm accruing?)
I recall white-maned preachers I knew as a wayward youth.
My preacher is so young he should be in Sunday School, forsooth!
But I admit that he stirs my lethargic soul with masterful skill.
(Lord! Forgive my acerbic views - is it because I'm over the hill?)
Even the admirals, generals and presidents look so young today.
I reckon there ain't no use in fretting about it anyway.
'Tis some consolation that they'll all lose their youth so dear.
(Oh! How I yearn for the carefree, feckless days of yesteryear!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)