Best Corporal Poems
A hundred-ten year old soldier was interred in Arlington Cemetery today.
Corporal Frank Woodruff Buckles now sleeps nigh his comrades in sacred clay,
Awaiting that glorious morn when Gabriel's bugle will sound that final call,
To fall in for the last calling of the roll! Corporal Buckles will be standing tall!
"Taps" was played echoing far beyond the hills of Arlington into the misty past,
Reminding all of brave men who were destined to die or were horribly gassed!
Courageous men who willingly placed national destiny above their very own,
To ensure that our precious and hard-won freedoms would ne'er be overthrown!
Only sixteen, he lied about his age trying to join the navy and marines with no luck,
And was told, "Go home before your Mom knows you're gone, you young buck!"
He told a bigger whopper telling the army recruiter he was all of twenty-one!
The sergeant, looking for warm bodies signed him up, thence the deal was done!
He was promoted to corporal and served with distinction as an ambulance driver.
After serving in France, he was honorably discharged, returning a heroic survivor!
As a civilian he was a prisoner of the Japanese in the Philippines but was kept alive,
And was rescued after three years in Los Banos prison camp in nineteen forty-five.
He proudly represented the 'doughboys' of The Great War as last man standing.
So much, so very much to him we owe for his service was most outstanding!
That venerable symbol of America, the majestic Golden Eagle, cried,
On the day that the old veteran, Corporal Frank Woodruff Buckles died!
(Corporal Buckles, the last American survivor of World War 1, died 27 February 2011, at the age of 110)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
(This is a fictional poem)
He was Corporal Capeman and he wanted to fly like a bird.
He was very ugly and he was also an annoying nerd.
He was a grown man who actually believed that he could fly.
If I said that he was mentally stable, I'd be telling a lie.
Just watching him was irritating, it was like a disease.
Will somebody shoot this dorky bastard please?
When Capeman and Inspector Gadget worked together, they failed.
Capeman was probably the reason why Inspector Gadget was cancelled.
Condominiums are healthiest
and safest
as cooperative housing
owned from inside each embodied unit
and shared in common co-invested spaces
outside each individuated unit
together forming one living,
preferably nonviolent communicating,
empowering win/win resonant
restorative inside peace
and outside justice resolution
for cooperatively enlightened resilience.
Indigenously healthy
wealthy
and wise condo residents
come to our community
already trauma informed
and deformed,
seeking verbal and nonverbal
compassionate and nonviolent
common communication practices
Which focus equally on win/win felt trauma management
of past win/lose offenders
AND
our cooperatively therapeutic resilient health
promoting public co-invested wealth
supporting our indigenous win/lose traumatized victims
of aggressive
LeftBrain dominant
micro-cultural
and macro-climate environmental aggressions
Miscommunicating further win/lose competitive anxieties
through macro-violence
Discommunicating
excommunicating
EarthTribe's Cooperative Resilience Project
Despite our vicious peaking
Great Transitional Experience
of climates communicating
warming
lose/lose dissociative
ego v eco
inside v outside
individual mind v integral body
co-invested common cooperative
yang-Sun radiant/yin-Earth synergetic
communal communication
EarthTribe trauma trends
Which may be why
residential
and commercial
and educational
and inter-religious
and multicultural
and polytheistic
and polypathic
and polyphonic
and polyvagal neuro-systemic
resilient bicameral condominiums
are private/public resilient health projects
Anthro/EarthTribe safest
for environmental peace communities
When panentheistically organic
green outside empowered energy
and red inside enlightened synergy
together resiliently project
future co-investments cooperatively governed
with Yang/Yintegral balancing core co-housing
win/win universally uniting values.
Despair of spectres whispered, John heard it muttered
Fears spoken, centuries of shame sunk into stone
Hanging tree hoisted him, feet above ground fluttered
Rope bound neck bulged, blood starved eyes shuttered
Aghast, entertainment starved spectators absorbed gore
Under his breath they heard it uttered,
" I am among the lowliest, and the last"
Sentiment collected by authorities, soon to outlaw
Heinous hangings of criminals and martyrs
Testiment to the cruelty, trademark of cessation
Clouds of purest doves spun above the atrociousity
Tyburn' s turbulent history viewed at Marble Arch
Has John's pledge to thank for returning compassion
14th September 2020
For: Line Gauthier 's Contest
Tyburn Collaboration max. 14
Here it is
The confession to my onsession
After years of abuse
I protest my own discression
I see no right
Only wrong in my decissions
As hurting her has hurt me
But the punishment should be capitol
It would do no good
To allow life in this body
Nor his, I'll take away
He is a source
The one I lost last night
He is an excuse
The law has no play tonight
I am a vigilante for the just cause
I'll enforce corporal dealings
Assist in disgrace, he feels no shame
But, damnit, I know he feels pain...
Form:
Give an hand to Corporal Klinger
Went to Korea, not to linger
He did give a damn
But to Uncle Sam
He doth bequeath his middle finger
On the sport’s field we started to set up
To play cricket but the ground was hard
And the stumps would not go in. So my mate
Used the cricket bat to hammer them home.
The game’s master was soon upon the scene,
Shouting. “That’s no way to treat the willow,
You cretin.” Sir then snatched the cricket bat
And with hefty sideways swipe cracked my mate
Across the head. The lad collapsed and was
Shaking violently, lying on the ground.
Then his shaking stopped and he was still.
The whole team went silent and stood and stared.
Then one lad shouted: “He’s dead. You’ve killed him.
You’ll be hanged for murder”. Sir was silent.
He looked worried. But the victim came round.
He then stood up, a bit wobbly and we
Carried on with our game of cricket.
Some folks think of themselves as humans searching for a spiritual awakening when the fact is that you are a spiritual being, attempting to cope with a human awakening.
Seeing oneself from a perspective of the spirit within will help you remember why and what you came here to begin creating.
In a higher dimension, there exists no time, nor darkness, nothing is physical or corporeal, and those that reside there are entities of light.
In reality, there is no time but only a construct of human measurement, known as clocks separating day from night.
Realms of higher frequency, greater sensitivity, and a density of colors unseen by humans are all around us.
Understanding that you are much more than you see in the mirror is the beginning of self-trust.
Old sleuth foot such a character
an old veteran
with one leg yet he still happy
~
Old Slew Foot with a gorilla chest
he smelled of menthol from his breath
Oh! slew foot was quite tall
he can stand on his one leg problem but never fall
~
Old Slew Foot was a Corporal in the army
on the battlefield he seen that so alarming
Oh! slew foot had a prosthetic
when he put it on he would walk run even dance he felt lit
not pathetic
~
Old Slew Foot walk the mile
he co-created a blessed child
Old Slew Foot was sleeping in a chair
because all he had left in him was one leg and a prayer
11/16/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2023