Best Chaplain Poems
"I never travel without my diary - One should have something sensational to read"
...Oscar Wilde, 1891
30 May 48: I graduated from high school today now thank God I'm free!
No more doggone homework, perplexing algebra or teachers bugging me!
7 Jul 48: Enlisted in the Air Force today! Good Lord! What have I done!
The sarge said, "Forget Mom, Dad and Susie Q! You're now mine, my son!"
21 Oct 48: Finished basic training today with about a hundred other guys.
I thought it'd be more like a Boy Scout Camp! Boy, was I in for a surprise!
15 Feb 49: Graduated tech school at Fort Warren and sent to the Bermuda Isles.
Quite a change for a country boy! Water, water everywhere for miles and miles!
12 Oct 52: Was married tonight at Perrin AFB with Vera as my beautiful bride!
She was very pert and calm, but diary, I was somewhat nervous I must confide!
23 Aug 54: Our family grew by one today! Leanna, a little girl, my fondest wish!
She was measured by a nurse holding her by the heels! Just like measuring a fish!
15 Aug 55: Boarded a crowded troopship in New York and set sail for Morocco.
Was beset with a bit of mal de mer since the ship was wallowing to and fro!
17 Oct 57: Our little 'arab' Leslie was born today near Casablanca! What a dolly!
She has a hearty set of lungs, but that's OK, she's a healthy little dude, by golly!
11 Jan 68: Son Mark was born at the Air Force Academy and seemed a healthy tot!
9 Apr 68: Alas, we buried Mark today at Evergreen. Boy, do we miss him a lot!
24 Jun 71: My family and I arrived in Tokyo, Japan, to begin our three-year tour!
Japanese is foreign! For "good morning" do I say, "ohio gazamus" or "bon jour?"
1 May 74: Chaplain Porter notified me that I had been promoted to Chief!
Happy day, dear diary! I've reached the highest rank! What a blessed relief!
1 Aug 78: I retired today at Offutt AFB, after 30 wonderful years of service!
After wearing the 'blue suit' all those years, wearing civvies makes me nervous!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 3 in Constance La France's "The Diary" Contest - April 2011
The empty boots, neatly laced and, alas, now on display,
Belonged to a gallant soldier who died the other day.
Another patriot gave his all in the service of his nation.
He placed service above self to fulfill his solemn obligation.
At his memorial, the roll was called, his comrades answered "Here!"
When his name was called there was no response evoking many a tear.
His captain presented the folded flag to his little son on bended knee.
The little fellow clutched it closely to his breast - he was only three.
Not only are there empty boots, there are empty arms as well.
Aching arms that could not comfort him when he fell.
Empty arms that once held him in fond embrace,
Will no longer tenderly caress this noble warrior's face.
There will be empty hearts that will yearn forever more,
Recalling precious memories of the one whom they adore.
There will be an empty chair that no one can ever fill,
Though his presence will ever remain with them still.
Can his kin find solace in that trite phrase, "He didn't die in vain?"
His comrades with heavy hearts will strive to ease their pain.
The haunting notes of "Taps" echoed throughout the air,
As the chaplain intoned, "We commend him to Thy eternal care!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in PD's "Emotional Poem" Contest - April 2012
i was there the day she died
the day she breathed her last
i prayed the Lord she'd suffer not
it's happening too fast
we both agreed no life support
so many years ago
how could i see this circumstance
or this scenario
we thought she had a fighting chance
if some support were used
it was that time i gave consent
i'm tired and confused
we prayed for a recovery
she'd wake up once again
i realized the hour came
this wasn't in God's plan
i pray for strength and guidance, Lord
i knew what need be done
her body must release the ghost
death's time at last had come
i chose the time we'd say farewell
a Sunday in July
i never thought i'd see this day
this day of last goodbyes
a chosen few stood by her bed
i held her hand in mine
i finger-combed my baby's hair
her time was growing nigh
the staff removed all life support
she now was on her own
the chaplain hummed Amazing Grace
My God don't drag this on
babe it's okay now to let go
i'll be alright my love
it's time for you to take His hand
and follow God above
her little body gave out soon
her shallow breaths were few
then quietly she left this world
to start her life anew
so now i am a broken man
there's naught that can fix me
for now there is a piece missing
she has my heart you see
Held behind cold stone walls,
In silence, marched to work.
The shabby dressed walked prison halls,
Hell waits for those who shirk.
Breaking rocks or picking rope,
Naught to eat save gruel and bread,
Pointless toil, devoid of hope,
Here worked the living dead.
Mornings in the chapel praying,
The gathered wincing at the drops,
The hangman had the condemned swaying,
Yet more unworthy souls now cropped.
The chaplain looking down his nose,
He could better use his ministrations,
The faithless sat in squalid rows,
(As he prayed for a better station.)
Ne'er has a place been so bleak,
Nor seen more fear and woes,
If the Devil sought out company,
It would be here he chose.
I think of how it was ten years ago
just after you departed.
All your close friends spoke
of your "complexity"
and we knew what it meant.
I look far back to childhood when
those small-town midwest Methodists
would call you "Revrund." Well they knew
of turned-on tears
so common in the meeting hall;
but did they know about
the "turned-on" ladies
when you came to call?
I know. You needed time with them.
Two small churches took so much
with little left for us; I still recall
the single three hour evening
when you took me out of town alone
--to still another church!
There came a time for change;
as a chaplain in the army,
far away from mother, there
you quickly found the antidote
for loneliness...and yet again,
and again, again...
And then so late in life,
about to lose your second wife
through age and frailty,
you saw another, caught her
waiting in the wings, you thought.
All through those years you toiled
(if not quite single-mindedly)
in dedicated sacrifice for God
(if not for family).
How you were loved!
Clay footed, to be sure,
yet everything you did
was passion-filled;
you wept and prayed
and laughed and played,
presiding to the end.
Complex, you were, indeed, my father,
the record clear and true
and I for one, will judge you not.
for I am much like you!
~
Son, I'm so proud that you elected to serve in the United States Marines.
Military service is a family tradition - it just happens to be in our genes!
Your forefathers have worn the uniform since the genesis of this nation.
All were privileged to serve, feeling that it was their solemn obligation!
One of your distant relatives served as a lieutenant in The Revolution.
He lost an arm at Brandywine to boost this nation's glorious evolution!
A soldier on your mother's side was a sergeant in the Battle of New Orleans.
In letters he told of subsisting on meager rations of rancid pork and beans!
A grandfather shouldered a musket in the Mexican War affair.
Another, a corporal of cavalry in the Union Army served with elegant flair!
In the Spanish-American fray, one of your kin charged up San Juan Hill.
Your great grandpa led a platoon in World War One with consummate skill!
Your granddad was a fighter pilot in the South Pacific and became an ace,
And he later soared as an astronaut through the vast reaches of space!
I was privileged to serve as an army chaplain during the Korean War.
Your Aunt Sarah served with distinction in Viet Nam with the Nurses Corps!
So, you see son, you have a distinguished heritage upon which to build,
Serving all humankind to ensure that our quest for liberty is fulfilled!
Godspeed, Marine! Here's my old wartime copy of the Twenty-Third Psalm.
When assailed from all sides, it will provide you with great solace and calm!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Gail Doyle's "Writing A Heartfelt Poem To A Soldier" Contest
July 2012
NO MORE LOVE POEM
“”..... Ander her picture when she cut her wrists and so the kid saw the picture and his prick went Whoop Whoop Whoop,,,”
- Trantino. The Great Blafigria Is.
“ … For I dream I know not how¡
And my soul is sorely shaken
Lest an evil step be taken,-
Lest the dead who is forsaken
May not be happy now.”
-The Bridal Ballad. Edgar Allan Poe
Please Stop.
I don’t want falling in Love
& being pretty smart
O mamma mia.
When the Train is Gone
I thrower in motion:
I don’t hit the nail on the head¡
I’m going wild against the Wall
Slap-up meal.
My brain’s been ****ed
When yr love is come
Toot toot
Damn ***** ate my dog.
Then haemin’s yr Ass:
Love is a silly thing
Fancying that
All over the place
And to die
Of a broken Heart, ja, ja ja.
Hey captain¡ Hey captain¡
My arm chaplain is incapable.
Hey Captain¡ Hey Captain¡
I think we’re gonna cum
In the twinkling of an eye:
The end of the love
Lies inside you¡
Do you know Do you see:
All lovers are Rapier pigs
bastard Gentlemen of rape
Looking out at all rissoles
In the churches’ streets
& saying:
” let me darkle
Or let me daze”.
With Langston Huges’ motto
As we live and learn:
“Dig and be dug
In return”
No more Love Poem
Darkly Vampire.
Carry me to Yr Black Ritual
Of bloody Love
Leaning lip-poised.
We tremble to receive
The darkly ****ing Eucharistic
To touch Perceive
Touch Explore
And yet with utmost Sinful care
Slide Melt
Devour.
The *****Cock
And Chicken
In the head of lustful night
Carry me.
The cigar box reposed upon the closet shelf for nigh on fifty years.
Oft his family wondered what it held. Perhaps some treasured souvenirs?
The old man, a veteran, had fought in the European Theater of Operations.
He never talked about that nor did he ever boast of any special decorations.
Alas, he mustered for that final call of the roll to begin his eternal bourne.
His passing left behind a loving family and a grateful nation to mourn.
Rifle shots echoed o'er the hills - the clarion sound of "Taps" was played.
The Chaplain rendered words of hope and in hallowed clay he was laid.
His son sorted through his Dad's things learning facts he never knew.
Neatly folded in a trunk was his army uniform looking almost new.
He found hundreds of ribbon-bound V-mail letters to his beloved wife,
Expressing his love and hope for their life together beyond the terrible strife.
He was curious about the cigar box and pulled it down from the shelf.
There he found treasured things that his Dad had kept to himself.
His dog tags on a chain, faded snapshots of his wife and old army pals,
Staff sergeant chevrons, his honorable discharge and some old decals.
He choked back tears of pride as he discovered the coveted Silver Star,
And the citation that read of his bravery for heroic actions on the Saar!
There was also a Purple Heart and two Bronze Star Medals he had earned.
He was in awe of his humble but heroic Dad and the things he had learned!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
looking for your name
on the dark Wall
those sudden back slaps
waking me to a world
I thought knew
Your little one is on her way
To change your world from night to day
To show you how to laugh and play
Your little one is on her way
Your little one will bring delight
She’ll keep you up all through the night
She'll cry then coo till morning light
Your little one will bring delight
Your little one will bring you joy
You thought at first she’d be a boy
She’ll make her Dad her little toy
Your little one will bring you joy
Your little one will bring you love
She’s sent to you from up above
She'll bring you peace, this Heaven’s Dove
Your little one will bring you love
Your little one is God’s own child
On both of you, heaven has smiled
So teach her to be meek and mild
Your little one is God’s own child
Eileen Manassian
I wrote this poem this morning and read it at a baby shower for Naty Acuna, a good friend of mine from Argentina. Andres, her husband, is the University chaplain and men's dean. Naty is the women's dean. We are blessed to have them at Middle East University. They have come as missionaries. Yes, they will have a baby girl. They will name her Emma. :)
Tooled up, the army chaplain
Is wielding the words of God
Straight in for the kill
With ‘The work of His will’
And ‘He came not with peace but the rod’
The sixth commandment is tricky
A most inconvenient law
For the turn of a cheek
On the battle field bleak
Is far from conducive to war
So, pity the army chaplain
And the conflict that rages within
As the ranks of the dead
Tramp a march through his head
And he murders his conscience with gin
by Gail
Beneath my tendrils,
Hidden by waves of despair
Lie Souls lost in storms nightmare
No cross, or family visitors,
Except crabs and eels
And curious seals
Picking away at the last semblance
That made them once human
The seas sermon, their last chaplain
A sunken boat, company for the last captain
The sea has many secrets
And I know her spirit well
For I am the last witness
To ships that sink
To gulls that die
To hear the whales that cry
To see the births,
Far away from man’s eye
I cast my shawl
Up mountains hidden
By current and canyon
I watch with my many eyes
The dolphins panic caught in trawlers net
Whose whistle, the final lament
Asphyxiation the cruel torment
The finless shark, the once proud ruler of this realm
Writhes in clouds of blood, while enemies swoop
Victim to another’s, gourmet soup
All is secret, for the sea hides many things
Her coral cities and sea horse prairies
But locked away in Davies locker
Oil and gas,
The treasure and the waste
She is the mother of all,
And the reaper of her domain
And I am left to wonder
For her embrace is mine to share
For I am the jelly fish, and I am a witness
To all who have wronged
This place where I belong
And now I see the virgin iceberg
A last paradise where man is not welcome
Leave my mother be, and leave her children’s kingdom
Let the cold be her knight,
Let the bears rule the night
And let nature be the light.
For I am just a jellyfish
Wandering my home, the sea,
You go to yours and let mine be.
For the sea will always be a part
Of you, and me.
And that is how, to respect my home, the sea
Footnote: Thejellyfish has over twenty eyes, more than any other creature on the planet
She Whispered “I Love You” (MJH 20150619)
She whispered “I love you”
As we danced real close.
She caught me by surprise,
As I looked into her eyes,
And time suddenly froze.
I said “I love you, too.”
She whispered “I love you”
When I kneeled with the ring.
So, while trying to be clever
I said “that better be forever,”
(She nodded, saying nothing)
“Because I really love you, too.”
The Chaplain said the words,
Then we both said “I do”--
And she kissed me with a smile.
Walking back down the aisle
She called out “I love you”
Underneath the upraised swords.
A few years later,
I heard the happy news.
“Congratulations, Mommy.
We’re now a real family.”
We’d need both pinks and blues.
Life just couldn’t be better.
Your hair greyed, my hair thinned.
Always standing side by side.
Days became months became years-
Most filled with joy, then later tears.
One sad day, at her graveside,
I heard “I love you” on the wind.
Form:
To open a conversation
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
seemed safe.
Safe until the moment
Mum paused before saying;
“We don't know.”
Blank:
I was neutered.
Space opened – if not beneath –
in silence, mum.
What to say next?
What could be safe?
For her? For the infant?
For me?
I could not walk away.
Our eyes would not meet,
but she occupied the space
with, “I'm sorry.”
“I'm so sorry,” I replied.
What more?
What next?
After a space
of twenty years
What now?
Of your creation, God,
what is natural?
God beyond gender,
we don't know.
“I'm so sorry.”
In the blank – space – mum
you challenge me
beyond what is safe.
Most weeks my routine as Hospital Chaplain took me to the maternity wards. While there was plenty of joy, it was also a minefield of sensitivity. This was a learning experience for heart, soul and intellect.
Pain and struggle sometimes do take hold
Alone, terrible thoughts can take flight
Isolation intensifies, I feel so cold
A never ending descent into the night.
When a gentle gloved hand takes mine
And my pain soon begins to subside
And the darkness begins to decline
As a chaplain sits quietly at my bedside.
Hearing my plea for courage to return
Opening my soul for Him to come in
With the chaplains’ words, my soul did turn
Rebuilding with hope, to let healing begin.
Determined then to rise beyond the pain
This man of God helped me live again.
12/15/2016