One vote by itself seems less than a wonder
for history is a much larger thing – millions
of nays, millions of yeas, to suggest one small
voice need be heard, to think any little voice could
make a large difference in the greater scheme seems
quite absurd. For one little vote a young man took a
bullet in the throat, left any Opera Ambitions in
Germany, never again to sing a cherished note,
just for the right to cast one tiny vote. For One vote,
Omaha beach took 2,400 lives. For One vote, another
29,000 died in Normandy. For One vote, 5.000 American
boys perished at Guadalcanal, another bloodstained shore.
All having died for one single vote, which democrats
counterfeit and Universities treat like a joke, faux
men in dresses stand in-front of students mocking
a great nation's selfless patriots who donned uniforms
to fight for a land they unitedly love and adore. Lost
limbs in battle yet proudly declare, for cherished freedom
we would honorably sacrifice more. Pervert Demigods, to mush
minded students, preach anarchy, the benefits of Marxist
society, promote all manor of deviant sex and brain deadening
recreational smoke. One vote. One vote. One vote.
Guadalcanal 2019
Tour boat, ice-blue water.
Five rubber rafts,
12 heroes each, approach
Antarctic 'beach'.
‘Explorer’: 'Look! Penguins!'
Rest chirp approval, focus Canons,
shoot the penguins left and right.
'Great' 'Wonderful'.
Two hours later, 3-star restaurant,
Tierra del Fuego.
'Global warming...'
from the end of the table.
Heads nod assent. Crab dinner,
good Sauvignon Blanc. 'This is great!' 'Wonderful!'
Are they talking about the crab? Or the penguins?
Does it matter?
Forced down onto the thick mud
the stench of this rotten blood
Determined for this to be surreal
My fate would change if it were real
My life begins anew In my head
From the time mother put me to bed
Father took me to my first Yankee’s game
Where I was inspired by their fame
To keep the kids soundly in bed
My blood, I fear, I must shed
Not knowing whether I would live or die
the anguish is consuming my thigh
The pain is slowly dying out
my destiny is nothing but a doubt
Laying on the red infested loam
Guadalcanal, you are my last home.
The November skies darken early
Citizens walk in
To vote
Nationwide elections
High school gym
Opened just for them
Voices echo in the large hall
Clerks check names and addresses
Pointing to names in musty ledgers
As lines get longer.
The ones I can spot
Are the old veterans
Who spent their youth at
D-Day, Battle of the Bulge, Guadalcanal
I say
Courage to them
Who knew how to be brave
At so young an age
They walk slowly now
Wives often leading
You sense that for them
Time is running out
The hour glass near empty
They never bragged all that much
To them voting is a right.
You can spot the others
Waiting on line
Veterans of
Korea and Viet-Nam
They walk a little faster
Stand a little taller
But time will catch up
And the hour glass will reach its mark.
The voting is over
Discarded papers litter the floor
Doors locked
Lights turned off
As darkness slips into the empty hall.
Across town
Politicians congratulate
The winners
Deal are made
Promises promised
And on this cold night
Honest taxpayers turn in bed
Knowing that the next workday
Always comes early.
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