Best Lieutenant Poems
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The general’s monocle holds
no reflection~
only maps
where borders bleed
like wet ink.
His uniform stiffens
with every medal,
each one hammered from
the same mute ore.
He signs the orders first,
then breakfast~
black coffee, bitter as spent shells.
The map is clean
where his finger rests,
no mud, no blood,
just ink-stained creases.
Five thousand tons of steel will roll
where his pencil hesitates.
The military machine
calls it strategy~
a word that appeals
to the masses
better than
corpse or widow.
Down the hall, the lieutenant
memorizes his father’s frown,
practicing it in the mirror.
Promotion tastes like
brass buttons
dissolving on his tongue.
The General studies the map again~
his coffee gone cold.
He traces borders
with his finger.
one that’s never touched dirt
or trembled in surrender.
Victory fits neatly
in his briefcase.
On the battlefield weeks later,
a corporal triumphantly
wipes his blade
and thinks of the boy
who called him coward
ten years ago,
in a schoolyard.
Later, alone,
the General admires his reflection
in the polished table,
imagining history books
too kind to mention
the tremor
in his hand.
And the wartime ego?
It never dies.
It digs trenches in the mind,
planting flags
in the graveyards
of reason.
The second lieutenant had a snip, snip
For some reasons then it was very hip
Told the chief he couldn't stay
The chief thought he wanted to play
Dropped his drawers his swollen parts to strip
Another fire department story...
He had a little male surgery.
He was suppose to work because the doctor had said that he could come in..
He had developed swelling in his male parts so he showed the chief
what was wrong why he could not work..LOL
Tell me that story again,
The tale of love and self-sabotage,
Of doubt and valour,
Of hearts and corruption,
Where the days are adventure and the nights are a dream,
The danger is adrenaline and the work is never done,
We stand together on the brightest days,
On the coldest nights,
On your side I stood, though times changed
Tell me those words again,
The words of comfort and safety
Of love and security
Of wrong but it feels so right
We shouldn’t be but we are,
It’s not allowed but we still do,
We could be killed for such an uncontrollable thing,
But we aren’t afraid, not anymore
Tell me that story again,
The tale of love and loss,
Of war and duty,
Of valour and comfort
I stand in your office, hours after dark
I sit in your embrace, as the air raid sirens sing
In a blanket of green and greatness
I’m not allowed to have you but whilst no one’s watching, I will give you my heart…
It was the Eighties
And among the ladies
You stood out
Hey LT it's not a dodge
Over my heart there was camouflage
Still you stood out
Your bars of silver
Your beauty a killer
That shot my heart down
The band tried, you sang
"Still Loving You" a birth pang
Tomorrow I'm leaving town
Your beauty gave me a command
At attention you made me stand
A salute from Cpl. Wiggle
Love was ever here and far
As I started to play air guitar
It made you giggle
Now the Eighties a forty year aftermath
In Hannover Germany, intersections path
I wonder where you are today
What's sad about this matter
It was just a moment soon to scatter
You never knew your beauty effected me this way
that is Lieutenant Goldfish he runs Steampunk City
I thought it was a lie, my cousin can be whimsically witty
L.G. as they call him swam by and did not give us a nod.
He’s aloof, disconnected, a loner, quite odd.
Why is he the leader of the city I asked my cousin.
Because the other fish are terrified of him by the dozen.
I thought that was a ridiculous way to vote in a leader today
Then I realized it’s the way of the crazies in the US of A.