Best Reconnaissance Poems
RECONNAISSANCE PATROL
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Scheduled for patrol tonight, damn I got the point
We must secure at least one exiting point
I hate night patrols, transiting from cover to debouch
I might be leading my buddies straight into an ambush
I’m not sure but daylight patrols seem safer
Locating trip wires and mines, I surely prefer
Cloudy moonlit night need to avoid silhouetting
I’ve a hole in my stomach, I’m hyperventilating
Calm down: get totally focused on the mission
Got to think clearly and quickly on every decision
Men following are depending on my judgements
Assess the enemys location, avoiding assailments
Clean my weapon, oil it, grease the slides
Boy, my mom can bake deep dish apple pies
Can’t get distracted with personal thoughts
Thanksgiving she made a dessert using apricots
Remove objects anything that might make noise
Nervous as hell, can’t show it, maintain my poise
We’re all assembled, this recon calls for eight
Should have taken cute little Gloria out on a date
Man has a cold: coughing, too risky, he’s excused
Dismissing the tail gunner, man I sure hate to lose
Recheck your equipment, blacken your face
Don’t bunch up, stay in line, keep up with the pace
Move out, no talking, til we accomplish the mission
Go together, return together, a silent supplication
I was inspired to write this poem by conversations I had back in the 1960s with a World War 2 veteran who served from D-day to VE-day and had gone on numerous night patrols. His wife, Gloria, told me they were married for more than ten years before he started sleeping without a light on.
Is done with world war 2
We may begin writing
Western Civilizational
EPILOG TO
RECONNAISSANCE PATROL
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Survived again, back to CP, a successful patrol
Brought back some intel, lost nary a soul
Exhausted, safe, suddenly my hands are shaking
Continued patrols is madness in the making
Fear enemy patrols, running into each other
Can’t stop thinking about my worried mother
In a few short days I’ll again reburden my soul
Wish it was a ball game, damn it, another patrol
Some men sleep in hopes of not being deployed
Some men can’t sleep, dread of being deployed
Can’t do this again, I’m teetering on a ledge
Next patrol I’ll surely topple over the edge
Stop it, stop it, stop it damn it
Put on a good face, laugh, don’t act too serious
Calm down, be nonchalant, fear is contagious
Last thanksgiving mom made deep dish pies
Man says he is not scared is telling you lies
Play cards, tell jokes, have fun, make friends
Stroll over to the briefing its that time again
-Reconnaissance-
The numbers are swallowed whole by contemplation.
Dest orlo ana...
Matadors ride the night with centaurs going full stallion. In the center drafted by a mellow bass of destruction.
Tech savvy as le knight, in thee lead suit. Shining like the radiation of a hare, running from a ravenous hawk.
Talk of a fellow twilight squaller shifted, take the batteries and lick the acid off the plate.
I hate thou reconnaissance, more than an extinct white rhino could imagine.
Focus on dreams and surpass the reserve. The black sheep will have his day to complete said experiment.
Talk is cheep, like a bird learning how to play the piano. Repetitive.
Say hi.
Move fast when given a reason to strike,
I go hard become my blood and turn cold;
My venom exactly what it seems like,
as is the firm squeeze of my stranglehold;
Upon disrespect my weapons hitchhike
the nonsense you speak is becoming old;
I’m fighting a reptilian response
brought on by all of my reconnaissance.