Best Squads Poems
The other day I sat beneath a sycamore tree on the court house lawn.
Old Glory fluttered in the breeze and to my eyes it was drawn.
It was tattered and frayed, I assumed, by the storms of many seasons,
But as I mused upon its state, could it have been caused by other reasons?
After all, it saw action in the Revolutionary War to create a new nation,
And suffered shot and shell in The War of 1812 ending foreign domination.
It flew over the Alamo and was drenched by the blood of courageous squads,
Who sacrificed their lives for independence, aware that they were against all odds.
Old Glory was unfurled for action in the Civil War in many a furious battle,
Mutilated by cannon fire and time and time again by the muskets rattle.
It was ripped by rifle fire as the Rough Riders charged up San Juan Hill.
To look upon it at their front must have given the Riders a comforting thrill!
It was torn asunder in the bloody trenches of France in World War One.
Though battered and torn it was held high at the battles cease for laurels won!
As its charred remnants were hoisted over Iwo Jima's blood soaked strand,
It unfurled to the cheers and tears of brave men who took a gallant stand!
Though the Korean and Vietnam conflicts and subsequent Desert Affair,
Took their toll on the old flag, it yet waves majestically with dignity and flair.
Though it has been spit upon and trampled on it still remains unfurled,
As a symbol of hope and a beacon of light for humankind about the world!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
This country’s sure got problems
Corruption, crime, and drugs.
And though we try to fix the world
The world just hates our guts.
But for all our woes and troubles
I still love the US
‘Cause compared to the rest of the world
America sucks less
They call us all polluters
With our Hummer SUV’s
But in China you can taste the air
And it taste like iPhone 3’s
You may hate our politicians
And protest what they say
But think about how much it sucks
To be Russian and gay
Our congress can’t do anything
Our senators are goons
But at least they were elected
And their name’s not Kim Jong–un
Japan makes better cars than us
Games and cartoon shows
But I saw The Cove on Netflix huh
And that was pretty messed up, bro
America, I love you, out of necessity
You’re not too hot and not too cold
And mostly not diseased
Compared to the alternative
You’re probably the best
‘Cause the whole world sucks
But America sure sucks less
Our economy is tanking
But we’re not as bad as Greece
Our fast food is disgusting
But Italy has maggot cheese
The NSA is spying on
Our emails and phone calls
But good luck finding WiFi
In some village in Nepal
Brazil is full of riots
Australia’s full of snakes
Mexico’s got cartels
And their water makes you crap for days
Dubai is just Las Vegas
Without alcohol or fun
And Africa’s in a post-colonial tailspin
Of genocide and oppression
I am so sorry for everything you guys have to deal with....Anyways,
America, I love you
Though you’re run by old white men
Republicans are a-holes
But at least they’re not the French
We’d probably get a solid B
If they gave the world a test
‘Cause the whole world sucks
But America sure sucksless
America, I love you
For your lack of murder squads
Your working indoor plumbing
And your mostly valid laws
In a world of mostly crap
America stinks the best
Except for maybe Canada
You guys have a pretty good thing going
‘Cause the whole world sucks
But America sure sucks less
As heavy frost settles 'pon the brown hill
And floats down to the level, thoughts are stilled
Words rise up to nettle but spirits thrill
Winter's north breeze meddles_ spring's buds to kill
Japanese Magnolia's buds wait until
spring's warm rains flood the earth; then sap buds fill.
Winter's pause, earth lauds rebirth, and birds' shrill
Vexing cold squads stay away and be still
At spring's rebirth be awed, winter's cold distill
Death where is resurrection's applaud, still
Waiting for spring's hallowed birth, rapture's real
Transformation follows, one's fate sealed
Not part of the poem:
There is a powerful difference in having to say something
and having something to say!!
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Contest: Interlocking Rhyme
Written: January 19,2015
Finis'
The Perfectionist is Listening
the rich are committing suicide
and taking us with them
the prosthetic limbed bastards
Fort Darwin tottering on fewer stilts
once the masters of the universe
presently picking through garbage
looking for an Icarus to pilot
some way back among the clouds
their telepathic goon squads
armed with the hard on of God
squat in the darkness of doorways
lightning strikes all around
even their machines were clairvoyant
several thousand watts went up my leg
shorting out the only attention span I own
left me perforated but not lacy
wearing all my masks all the time
fragments of self are selves
in a bulemic deconstruction
where form and content
mud wrestle incessantly for attention
on the crazy train to 3 color hell
the protagonists the antagonists
fornicators masturbators liquidators
pariahs and unlicensed poets
preaching hellstone and brimfire
apparently the ancient gods still rule
in their madhouse heaven
petulant and stupid gods
thought their figures included all the angles
sword point conversions gun point perversions
now their carcasses are steppingstones
what quirk of an infinite being
makes this burning plague village
of a planet so alone and necessary
of course none of this is protection
it's psywar out there kids
better find where they hid your dossier
mesmerized of the world unite
you have nothing to lose
but your failed methods of addressing reality
said his twisting tongue
struggling for ratings like any media
the soul cannot erase it can only go sightless
a phantom trapped in melancholy
when we were built to dance
with the twinkling stars
he finally learned to undestroy memory
being an ascended master of non sequitur
carried aloft in the arms of Mother Goose
his metabolic hurricane of why
an inferno of intrigue and superstition
our embryo-headed UFO ruling class
have me inside their fence of skulls
an investment in diagram futures
the idiots
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Mogadishu ...
Black Hawk helicopter down
Caracas ...
Riots burning everything to the ground
New Orleans ...
Katrina tears has gotten many more drowned
Manila ...
Government death squads are roaming around
Global Dystopia
Earth frowns
Parents and children weeping,
sad mourning sounds
Everyday the sun comes up,
hope goes down
Bi’lin ...
Smouldering settlement protests sparks up
Baghdad ...
A covered face blew up the church bus
Philadelphia ...
Government bombing citizens they don’t trust
Hiroshima ...
Radiation wine still overflowing from the cup
Global Dystopia
Ain’t we had enough
Can’t take no more mushroom clouds
raining on Earth’s thin crust
Everyday the sun goes down,
dark hopelessness rises up
Tshikapa ...
Crystal clear diamonds covered in jungle blood
Sarajevo ...
War crime bodies dumped in mass graves covered by mud
Tel Aviv ...
Sleeping residents killed by a black market American SCUD
Chicago ...
Lead poisoned urban poor houses built by HUD
Global Dystopia
Earth cries
Parents and children missing,
news covered up by politician lies
The day the sun doesn’t standstill,
all hope then dies
Human Rights June 27,2015
Human rights for you and me
Palestinian children living free
People free without a tear
Children playing without fear
Irish children white, orange and green
A united Ireland without the queen
A new Ireland for me and you
Living in peace with thirty-two
No death squads in our country
Make killing is a memory of our past
First nation people have their land
No dividing line in the sand
Mount Rushmore Mountain Time for change
Those faces on the rock
Free the people you and me
First Nations people must be free
Africa, Madiba’s dream
Eyes blind to bigotry
He showed the world the way
Let the people have their say
Black Americans locked in jail
The justice system did surely fail
Homeless people, you know what I mean
Give them a home, the American dream
Feed the people, ban the bomb
The politicians got it wrong
Make our world a better place
Save our children and the human race
Human rights for you and me
Palestinian children living free
Gerrard McGeachy
Said the door!
The door SAID,
"I am tired.
Every day I get slammed in.
What am I just a piece of wood or metal?
Have I no feelings?
God forbids one of you gets angry,
you'll slam me so hard I fall off my hinges!
Then comes the thieves,
they kick me in!
What a set of rascals!
Most of all I hate those police squads,
they come with these big ugly pile driving things
that send me to smithereens.
Now the only people I will give permission to knock me in are fire fighters.
Them guys are always trying to help someone.
Why can you all be like them,
Help someone.
Matters not it's a bum,
someone next door who need a ride to the grocery store,
whoever,
whatever it is,
don't think twice just do it."
© A. Juman The "said" poet 11/8/2015
Type In (A. JUman) For A relaxing and astonishing moment with all my POEMS
Just because we wish it so, means not that it will pass;
this lesson’s one we all must learn in the Gamecock class.
Runs my blood, it’s red and black---garnet the deepest hue,
any orange is anathema, do not this misconstrue.
They always fought with all their heart, especially on game day,
ran out to strains two thousand one, sandstorm on white display,
from first kickoff to last tackle, they’d hit with abandon,
they feared no foe, this fact is true, but seldom champion.
Football saints are lively here, from Rogers to Norwood,
When Lattimore took the field, we always felt they could,
defeat all squads, from Florida to the great North land,
and many others in between, I’m sure you understand.
Jadeveon polished our fame, no one could say “Who dat?,”
he pulverized a Wolverine, and handed Smith his hat.
Sidney Rice and Sterling Sharpe could surely catch that ball,
while Alshon and McKinley too, flew often past them all.
Sheldon Brown and John Abraham were known to give a lick,
while Swearinger and Gilmore too, could make a tackle stick.
Ryan Brewer bowled them over, while Succop split the posts,
Connor Shaw and Phil Petty racked up the winning boasts.
So many more graced our field, their names are not forgot,
Wharton and Boyd, Culliver and Ellis, and even A. Pinnock.
Munnerlyn, DiMarco too, and who could forget Ace Sanders?
Ajiboye and Cunningham, were not gridiron outlanders.
Kalimba, Ko, Dunta and Zola, we’ve surely had strange names,
But on the field they won our hearts, and more than a few games.
Faison to Watson, and all others, who flashed their spurs with pride,
we celebrate each footballer who’s graced the Gamecock side!
Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat
the drums did roll and beat
the men in their uniforms how they stood
so tall and trim and neat,
by ranks and files and squads they stood
with weapons, packs and flags
the flower of our nation's youth
did march to the drummers' beat.
Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat
off to the wars they marched
with waves goodbye, and speeches of pride
they marched away while their loved ones cried.
Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat
While one could question the wisdom of war
no one could doubt the soldier's scars,
war after war they were sent...
and bravely wherever sent - they went.
Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat
The drums did roll and beat
the men in their uniforms how they stood
so tall and trim and neat,
and off to the wars they marched
to the sound of the drummers' beat.
Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat
In battles they won to keep us free
but not without a price for victory.
They returned from places with names so strange
but some returned to a different beat,
with a slow roll, slow march - mournful and sad
they brought our loved ones home again.
To a grateful nation they gave their all
without a whimper or complaint they saw it all
and returned from places far away
battered and scarred - but free.
Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat
Soon the sound of drums were heard
and leaders did call again...
with struts and speeches that sounded so grand
off our youth were sent with a band
Rat a - Tat - Tat; Rat a - Tat- Tat.
Dedicated in loving memory to all who served.
Make Love Not War
I want to plant sugar-mines,
that blow on footfall’s touch,
they slap you on the calfs and
thighs and splash chocolate
on your crotch
then quickly I’ll plant cleavage
bombs, the things they do with
cream! And unexploded areola
squads, will lick the red parts clean
We’ll have such fun with pumpkin
gun, and quietly shoot the breeze,
while in the trees I’ll gently squeeze
your bum and stroke your knees
and when all our monkeys settle down,
and chickens from behind, without a
war we’ll live our lives …..why can’t we
just be kind?
So make love not war, it’s fun to score
and make the rafters shake, and in the night
between the two, a spicy cake to bake!
Sergeant Major O'Malley, Seventh Cavalry, had served nigh on three decades.
He rose through the ranks havin' served in squads, companies and brigades.
Second lieutenants were nuisances and he treated them as if they didn't exist!
He took recalcitrant lads behind the barracks to administer discipline with his fist!
You'd better have your horse and tack lookin' keen for Saturday mornin' parades,
Or Sergeant Major O'Malley would sear the ozone with his thunderin' tirades!
He'd escort you to the stables to shovel manure if you ever mistreated a horse!
Sergeant Major O'Malley's colorful lingo left one with a feelin' of remorse!
He had absolutely no patience with the foibles of raw and bumblin' recruits.
Lord have mercy on the hapless lad who failed to shine his saber and his boots!
Should a trooper snooze in the saddle when escortin' the colonel's stage,
Sergeant Major O'Malley would stomp and rave unleashin' a towerin' rage!
At the break of dawn when reveille sounded, he'd burst through the barracks door,
Yellin' "Up and at 'em me lads! Outta them bunks! What am I a-payin' ye for!
Ye sorry excuses fer sojers! Hie to the stables! Them hosses needs oats and hay!
And when that's done, git back here to eat yer grub and scrub this filthy bay!"
Things were different when he dismounted his horse and entered his house!
The one who gave orders and 'wore the stripes' at home was his formidable spouse!
He meekly responded to her constant commands with a resigned, "Yes, my dear."
"Taps" was a welcome sound at close of day in Sergeant Major O'Malley's ear!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
There has been news about piracy in the high seas...
And here is news about a nefarious activity you don't see...
People go missing in action off the waters of Philippines...
And then the cat and mouse game of high stakes begins...
While some families agonise over their missing loved ones....
Going by the news, the border security patrol force was duly informed...
But this I wonder, looks like the sovereign security patrols fail once again...
With a dusk to dawn curfew in force, was there a lapse in security yet again...
Was it a case of lax security or was it a case of one attempt too many...
Border Patrol boasted it has thwarted double digits of attempts that were so many...
Is this latest affront to sovereign securty a reminder we cannot escape kidnap attempts...
When we have for our neighbours bandits who sees us not as human beings...
Catch some Malaysians, then began a hide and seek game in the jungles of Philippines..
Next is a couple of months of various seek n find missions involving the governments....
And negotiations in earnest then begins , builds up to a critical delicate point ...
For money in a few tens of millions, freedom and lives can be traded to a point...
Should negotiations fell through or deadlines are missed, death to the victims ...
Often it's slow death by beheading under the guise of fanatical religious belief...
Hoping for religious sympathies to condone a blatant cruel act against humanity..
When in essence it was all a well disguised despicable act of kidnapping...
Treating fellow humans as human cattle to be traded and prices haggled...
While playing God and pretending to be God's warriors when talks are bungled...
Claiming every unfortunate victim's life in the name of the Islam religion...
Thinking in their warped religious fervour they are on the pathway up to Heavens...
These terrorists, they can be no other, terrorise the international community...
With such blatant organised crimes of inhumanity with such impunity...
Maybe vigilante squads in the Philippines is the final solution....
Thousands of drug peddlars and merchants are dead by executions...
Looks like therein lies a possible solution, storm the dense jungles...
Cash rewards for vigilante squads killing terrorists in the jungles....?
One day the son said to God,
“Humans need a laugh squad.”
“Say what son?”
“You mean fun?”
“Wouldn’t that seem a bit odd?”
“No Dad, I think it’d be cool,”
“Maybe even laughter in school!”
He’s sounding coy,
the silly boy,
thought God, Am I a sour old fool?
Then he remembered the rip
in poor Job’s small ill-fated ship
The sound, like split britches
had them laughing in stitches.
Thought God, “When did my humor get stripped?
God pondered and stroked his long beard.
Cherubs and seraphims peered,
though mystified,
they deified.
Downstairs, the outcast one sneered.
“Tell you what son, let’s give ‘em politics.”
“It’s way more fun than sinking small ships.”
So the laughing squads
(two teams at odds),
were loosed on the masses with tricks.
Which, coincidently, was fine
with the one who’d crossed the line,
Beelzebub,
became the hub
for political slime in prime time.
With love from Venezuela to the people of the United States of America.
Once upon a time were one of the most prosperous nations of South America.
Our nation once upon a time was a democracy and a representative government. Elected to represent our beloved homeland. But our hopes and our dreams have been washed away by Socialist tyranny and a dedicator who enslaves.
And improvised its people. We do not have enough food to eat. We long for safe places to be able to sleep. All who fight for freedom, even those brave souls. Who came from the United States, were arrested as agitators against, our government. They were the true freedom fighters, who were not paid and trained professional communists agitators. Which are running rampart on the streets of America today! "If the black people are not careful they could lose their country." Almost just exactly as we have lost ours!
If America does intervene, they will become involved. In a qua mire worse than the Vietnam War. It was a promise engraved in stone by our El Presidenta. Who clocks his misdeeds under the guise of the highest title of a governmental official. When he is nothing more than a paid and highly trained Communist agitator. South America has been plagued by a series of dictators and revolutionists. Who made false mandates and proclamations to the unfortunate South American people. But he stands heads and tails above them all!
In America people are still free to protest and speak out about their governmental leaders. Anyone caught doing that in Venezuela today
would be taken out and shot. I would not be in the least surprised if they
choose the Mexican execution by firing squads! Any one chanting Viva La Freedom! Viva La liberty! Would be taken out and shot! He or she would be imprisoned and tortured!
I am speaking out for the people who have no freedom. I am speaking out
for those who have no voice or no hope of their own. I am beseeching the throne room of God on their behalf as well as the people of Hong Kong!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 07, 2020
I went to war in Vietnam which wasn't my idea
the army never asked for my advice
I slogged on through the jungles there and watched some soldiers die
out country where the farmers grow their rice
The months went by like in a horrid dream of blood and death
and nothing I could say made any change
one mission here. one mission there just made no sense to me
but there was no way it would rearrange
We came to do our duty and to save South Vietnam
from communist incursions from the north
The tunnel rats went into where no one should ever go
And daily, squads were sweeping back and forth
The enemy was everywhere so telling friend from foe
was just about the hardest thing to do
then just about the time you may have thought you had it pegged
some little "friend" would make a fool of you
I finally got home last month, free from an ugly war
but landing at the airport gave me pause
a woman with a little kid called me a nasty name
and spit at me without a hint of cause
This war I did not advocate and never wished to go
I never had a choice in going there
I only wish the people at my home would understand
and put the blame on those who sent us there
I simply cannot understand the hatred aimed at me
for doing what I really thought was right
it seems that people aught to see the reasons why we go
and know that it's our duty makes us fight