Best Drill Poems
...and the wind..!
was,
electric.
there was water..!
there was sun..!
...it was all renewable...
the energy,
powered,
sustained,
life..!
Fossil liquids burning
emitting toxins
that was OUR mistake.
From the day a human kick started
wound up the first combustible engine..!
The first spill in any ocean
should have been our clue.
It was what cigarettes was to lungs-
-what alcohol was to brain cells.
It was a human error,
a human error so huge
that like a mythical dragon
assumed a life of its own
consumed the will
the power
the limited minds
of limited men.
Unlike the giant beast
veiled as nuclear power
with its unlimited potential
that would have wooed the minds
of the greatest among us,
oil from its inception
had the smell of destruction on its breath.
It would in its own way
fulfil the prophecy
the world would end
with a whimper not a bang.
We saw its horns
its bright red skin
its pitch fork
but we signed up willingly
...and from that day on
our eternal souls were damned.
24~10~2014
How I'd relish standing Obama at a brace and show him how to salute!
He's shown zero respect to the Marines and I suppose he thinks he's cute.
No one salutes with a coffee cup in hand, not even the rawest, dumbest recruit!
Should a soldier, sailor, airman or marine do such, he'd suffer the toe of a boot!
He's been seen on camera saluting the flag with his left hand over his chest;
With hands over his crotch or no salute at all with neither hand on his breast.
If the president is interested in gaining the respect of those who keep us free,
I'd volunteer to teach him the rudiments of saluting as learned by this old retiree!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
What demons lurk in government leaders?
Our lives like toys to play and discard?
Hearts frozen in fear
Snakes coiled to strike
Gas or virus, from enemies within
You may overcome us, sicken and slay
But remember the 3%, from
Revolutionary days!
I stand with my brothers, to the last man
Hell hath no fury
Like an American band!
Rock from the streetcorners!
Resistence is strong!
Gabriel's horn section
Angels sing along!
Through smoke and the tears
God fights at our side
His grace will sustain us
His love will survive!
Now join with me brothers
Sisters come too!
You won't want to miss
This concerts for you!
04/27/13
Eleven years had passed
since the marching Allies left
the small and peaceful town of Baiano;
they glanced back and heard
the song they cherished and loved:
admiring those pretty stripes and stars!
Grateful for their kindness,
women threw flowers petals
and claimed them heroes;
the smallest boys and girls
followed them dreaming of their America:
a free land where everything was granted!
I pulled a yellowed picture
out of an old photo album...
uncle Steve held a drill rifle
given to him by a young dying
American soldier whispering,
" Keep this rifle and remember
that I fought to free Italy...
to give you back your freedom! "
Minutes after he died staring
at the cobalt Southern sky...
perhaps his wish was to be
buried there sensing serenity!
The year of our Lord was
ninenteen sixty two and on that
memorable Christmas Eve,
I went back to that room to review the photo
of the young and proud soldier holding
his drill rifle: he had a charming Yankee smile;
I wanted that rifle, nothing more...
nothing less, but who could get me one?
Santa Clause was a fascinating fairy tale
that only little children believed in;
I peaked in the chimney, but ashes
blackened my adolescent face...
" Santa, Santa...I have a wish for you!
I like to get a drill rifle and be a soldier! "
He did not hear me...I shuddered in despair.
I went to sleep that evening,
the chill crystallized the snowflakes
stuck to the foggy window;
why did the distant stars shine brighter?
Why did gorgeous Baby Jesus smile at me?
I woke up on Christmas Day,
and next to me there it was: the drill rifle
I wanted so much! I looked around
and my dad stared at me giggling,
" You have been a good boy:
here's your present, son! "
Written on 12/12/2016
senryu
grandpa's hand drill
replaced by a battery
male heirloom
Pouring down, non-stop for days.
Flowing endlessly in rivers.
Somewhere, down the drain,
Deceptive water, leaves the Soil bare!
Thermoelectric power generation,
Chemicals and effluents,
Wet processing or concretization,
Corn ethanol or vegetation,
Sewage, drainage and slops,
Landscaping and sanitation.
Its dwindling and still we have no hesitation!
Yes! It sucks staggering amount of water.
Still we need to shake people, so that they bother!
Who would deny?
We can drill till the last drop.
But what about the animals,
How far can we make them hop?
High time! Let’s change our perception, let’s widen our horizon!
Where ever we are born, where ever we may live,
Whatever we may think, but we are forever one!
Let’s pledge together to save water,
Neither for me, nor for you but for God’s every single creation.
14/05/19
Seven things to grab in a hurry
My house going up in a blazing fury...
First things first,
my favourite courier bag,
then with my custom leather boots safely inside,
I surmise as quickly as ABC,
well JKLM:
I'd grab my Grandma June's
rosary,
Grandma Kathleen's
silk scarf,
Poppa Leo's
beer stein (with poppa inside),
My mother's
diary...
well maybe not
Magic Casements
my dad's high school poetry book.
Next...
One last look. My...
Pearls!
If I'm homeless,
I want to at least look good.
02.18.19
Seven Things You Would Save If Your House Was On Fire Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Something that never gives me a thrill
is having to deal with a dentist’s drill.
There is a cavity he has to fill.
When he sticks that needle into my mouth,
it hurts like hell and I feel like going south.
And he told me I wouldn’t feel a thing.
That was like saying Obama is a king.
Doctor, why are you so hard on me?
I paid you right away. I don’t owe you money.
I have brushed my teeth many times each day.
You were saying I have a cavity today?
Even though dentist bills are a bit too steep,
it is my natural teeth that I want to keep.
We all went to Swansea
To see the University
We had a nice lunch by the sea
In a place called Langland Brasserie
And later that same afternoon
We got back to our hotel room
I settled down for a nice kip
While the girls enjoyed a poolside dip
I was having such a lovely sleep
Till sirens ripped me from the deep
Those intermittent bells so shrill
Another bloody fire drill
With bleary eyes and fuzzy brain
Got to my feet and took the strain
And feeling every aching joint
I headed to the meeting point
Not being such a sprightly fella
I filled up with a pint of Stella
For a trigger happy fire alarm
Can sap your strength and do you harm.
I took the lift back to our floor
Got to our room and locked the door,
And saw, through all these fun and games
That Notre Dame was up in flames
No "FAKE" Fire Drill
Residents at high
land manor apartments
(aside from myself)
got rudely awakened -
by what sounded
like a screaming,
seething, and shrieking airplane
early morning hour
'ere september eleventh
two thousand eighteen
with deafening decibel (at
maximum threshold)
ear piercing shrill alarm
rousing atavistic primal
Neanderthal tapping primal brain
if NOT a atheist secular humanist,
I would aver my linkedin match
(com mon lee) attributed
to Abel and/or Cain,
but whether broad
minded or parochial,
that deafening fire alarm
this bloke doth disdain
but to ears of
volunteer fire fighters,
that unbearable audio
warning tone beloved,
aye need not explain
how appreciative, and
reassure ring knowing
rough and ready persons fain
to selflessly risk
life and/or limb,
when trucking
extinguishing arsenal
with genuine gratitude to gain
demonstrating without
pomp and circumstance
the art of being humane
automatic reflexive
instincts second nature
where breathe, eat,
and live for others
a credo, dictum,
ethos deep ingrain
within every cell
of their sturdy bodies,
sans indefatigable as
Tarzan and Jane
on par with prestidigitation skill
visa vis tricks of the trade
discovered via legerdemain,
yet aside from
power house strength,
another salient trait
needed asper physically,
emotionally, and spiritually exhausting,
grueling, and taxing job,
would necessitate one to maintain
composure in the
midst of pandemonium
gamely, gingerly, and
gloriously fighting infernos
(WITHOUT any mon
key business)
while training, learning,
and exacting diligence
non harried styled
tailored swiftness!
Move!/
Wait!/
Hurry!/
Yes, Sergeant!/
Make your buddy smile!/
Straighten ranks; fix your intervals!/
You have twenty seconds and ten are already gone!/
You are no longer new recruits, you are now soldiers; congratulations!/
THE DRILL
Arrive with boots. The march early or late.
The rose-fed cheeks. The eyes are green - new leaves.
The cadence call. No turning back. Blank slate.
New beginnings. In adventures, believes.
On the clothesline, strung together, the bras.
In the barracks, she-decorations hang.
The flag flies high. Painting of Betsy Ross.
Put together - this puzzle’s unlikely gang.
The coins bouncing. We ban undoing beds.
The quickest wash. The reveille’s real.
Back to the grind. Rote march from the beachheads.
Us she-sailors, we salute-shine…we heel.
We learn the drill - this camp is not playing.
We’re uniform - there’s no place for straying.
5/26/2023
Tribute to a Drill Sergeant
He stood there as we departed the bus,
Nobody but he could make any fuss.
First impressions are those that last,
And his was certainly made very fast.
He seemed larger than any in the crowd.
To ensure that all heard, he was very loud.
He immediately began barking out commands.
Which were heard throughout the land.
Speech was heard that was not very cool,
Words you had never heard in Sunday school.
An atmosphere of command was quickly in place,
And to question that authority would bring you disgrace.
Hours quickly turned into days,
As we began to learn his ways.
To regular hours and regular chow,
We readily adapted – somehow.
Activities of both mental and physical sort,
Required each of us to quickly contort.
Impossible it seemed each and every day,
To accomplish all that was thrown our way.
When it seemed that all energy was spent,
Another task from him was sent.
To even hint that it could not be done,
Was another victory by him won.
Day after day we labored through,
Finding things easier to do.
As pounds were perhaps lost and more energy found,
We came to realize that we were “graduation” bound.
The obstacle course was one final test
To discover ourselves at our best.
He stood there laughing as we would crash,
Or into the mud sometimes splash.
Finally, it all came to an end,
And that last day with him we would spend.
To finally realize that it was really done
And the impossible race had been well run.
Looking back after these many years,
With much satisfaction, and occasionally with tears,
That man who once seemed to have no heart,
Gave to many a fresh, new start.
copyrighted 2008 by Dr. James E. Martin
My sandals give me
blisters and this blistering
screech deafens me.
Don’t get your jacket
It isn’t chilly outside
(you must have never
sat under a waterfall)
Drill drill drill
eat eat eat
drill drill drill
eat eat eat
watching a woodpecker is such a treat
drill drill dril
eat eat eat
digging out insects with his bill and his feet