Long Banded Poems
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There is a violent war that’s not in movies.
These soldiers we lost are not seen on TVs.
Friendly fire is the biggest killer of our men.
Per soldier lost at war, at home we lost over 10.
People know of PTSD and shell shock.
But the effects must be taken stock.
We civilians don’t know what they go through.
As their mission ended with nothing left to do.
The training and survival skills do not go away.
The paranoia and fear are in the brain to stay.
Losing purpose and absent structure remain.
Leads to wild thoughts some feel are insane.
To help this issue we learn to band together.
Soldiers and civilians become of one feather.
The group is created to address the mess.
Allowing soldiers a place free to confess.
By linking all our bodies, souls and mind,
We continue the motto No Man Left Behind.
Put your feet on the ground and breathe deep.
Go up and down, quieting thoughts to a peep.
Fully balance out your body from head to toe.
Watch the changes as you reap what you sow.
Feel your body tremble working through pain.
Doing rep after rep, finding a pace to sustain.
Logging the numbers to account for the grind.
Crushing the haters you’re leaving behind.
Both internal and out keep their mouth shut.
Knock out a set and they can kiss your butt.
Suicide may have previously won the battle.
But Americans are not Grim Reaper’s cattle.
We’ve banded together to win this fight.
Saving lives at home is what’s in sight.
Whether you do many thousands or just two.
The squats can straighten out a mind screw.
Forcing the blood through our bodies quick.
Turning soft legs into muscle hard and thick.
Forging our glutes into newfound rocks.
Quieting the mental voice that mocks.
Demons can pucker and kiss our rock butts.
Squat therapy can prevent deep wrist cuts.
Connecting with distant suicide fighters.
Illuminating the dark room with lighters.
Helping one other on our physical journey.
Carrying the fallen on a virtual gurney.
The strong reach out and will carry the weak.
Forging us forward on the challenge we seek.
Some days disappoint and others we surprise.
But the goal of what we do is to open the eyes.
The experience I’m discussing is Mission 22.
It’s been an honor to share the ride with you.
So although we will approach the 2,200 soon.
The best is yet to come for us, so stay in tune!
Throughout history from time to time, our country has gone to war;
they called upon our brave young men to enlist and join the corps.
Some of the men were called by draft; while some enlisted on their own.
They displayed their courage, in either case, and made their presence known.
With the colonists discontent in ‘75 the American Revolution began;
the brave young men fought the British for the right to claim their land.
Over restricted trade rights in 1812, we went to war with Britain once again;
with much of the war, against their strong navy, fought on the bounding main.
The Spanish American War began in 1898 with the sinking of the Maine
The American victory gave Cuba its freedom from the mighty Empire of Spain.
Teddy Roosevelt and his brave Rough Riders charged up Kettle Hill;
The battle cries of the brave young men surely gave the Spaniards a chill.
The sinking of the Lusitania in 1917 brought us into World War I,
and the presence of our brave young men was felt before the war was done.
Our troops with “Black Jack” Pershing at the helm, into the war were lead,
and soon the German army knew, on the Americans they would not tread.
With Japan’s surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in December of ‘41,
Uncle Sam once again called its young men to gather and take up their guns.
From the sands of Iwo Jima to the beaches of Normandy,
they banded together and fought with great valor and won their victory.
Vietnam was a different kind of war, fought by the boomer generation;
And when the war was done the men came home facing an ungrateful nation.
They had banded together and bravely fought and 58,000 died,
and the brave men came home to an unruly mob, a nation with no pride.
If there a common thread in all of our wars, it’s the bravery of our young men;
they answered the call to take up arms time and time again.
They distinguished themselves as they fought with valor, many of them died,
and in our country we have lived in peace and that cannot be denied.
And to the brave men who gave their lives, we will be eternally indebted.
We will never forget what they did for us, their memories forever respected.
The bible passage from the Book of John, brings us to this end;
“Greater love has no man than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.”
The King answered back, "I love you as much as a king can love a son, but I love my people more, and you shall not be king." With anger, the third son raised his fist and spat, ‘When you die, I shall have this land and raise my army of children, forced into acting like men." And with that said, he stormed out, yanking his child servant behind him. Once out beyond the hearing range of their King, the three sons had a meeting. They were never kind to one another, but now, they had a new thing to hate together. So they banded as one to take the throne. The wizard posed and puffed his pipe. “But with them as kings the land would sure fall; would it not?” I couldn’t keep the question in my mouth. “Very wise,” the wizard said, before continuing on. “The three sons pillaged the land, taking the crops, raping the women, murdering the men and stealing the children. The land was at war, except their was no army to save the people from the three sons. The King; he wept from his death bead and called forth his only daughter. ‘My father,’ the daughter wept as she fled to kneel beside the King, ‘I have been waiting for you to call upon me.’ ‘Your brothers have brought ugliness to this land. They are starving the people, raping the women, murdering the men and making solders out of children. I am too weak to stop them from the cruelty they bestow on humanity. What would you do my child to stop them?’ The daughter sat back to think. "The people are scared, they're watching their mothers, sisters and daughters be taken against their will. Their husbands, fathers, brothers and sons are getting slaughtered before their eyes, and their children are being ripped from their arms, and their stomachs are full and blotted with hunger."Tears slid down the daughters cheeks, ‘I shall go into the villages. I shall ease back the pain with courage, and together we shall rise in a revolt against the evils my brothers have laid forth. With love and hope and truth we shall overcome the hatred that has swept through this land." The King smiled and spoke, "My daughter, I love you as much as a father loves his daughter and I see that you love the people just as much. Go forth, and save your people from those that wish them harm." The King kissed his daughter on the forehead with his dying breath.
There’s an old river course with beginning and end,
now the river runs straight without this river bend,
where the water is still and the reeds do grow strong.
New life has taken over in a billabong.
The mat rush is spreading replacing the sedge,
and old fallen gum trees lean in from the edge
creating a haven in the shelter below
for smelt or gudgeon, and the common minnow.
There’s a ring on the water, so danger is nigh,
and life is now over for one caddis fly.
Dragonflies hover on their predator flight,
so mosquito and midges best keep out of sight.
There is many a song around a billabong
to break up the still with an assembly throng
from birds of the forest, and wading birds too,
so the billabong offer is there to pursue...
... for blue heron and egret, coot and the teal,
and for the banded rail that the bulrush conceal.
In the billabong shadowed by gum and ti-tree,
bellbirds are tinkling; wattlebirds disagree.
An oft-diving grebe keeps on searching for food
for the striped downy chicks of its latest brood,
and a hunting kingfisher waits keen for its prey
from a twig of a gum tree it frequents all day.
There is many a scent around a billabong,
filling the air with the perfume quite strong,
from black wattle and mint bush, or mistletoe
cascading from gum trees where only they grow.
Painted lady butterfly flit upon flowers,
and blue banded bees keep on working for hours
on lilies and orchids, heath, sweet appleberry
and clusters of flowers on a native cherry.
Ribbon weed, nardoo spread out in the shallow,
with buttercup, duckweed; an introduced mallow,
struggling for survival near the water line,
aiding coral pea that does lightly entwine.
The banks of a billabong are dangerous too
with predator snakes not so often in view,
but they are aware, that the growling grass frog
will climb from the water onto an old log.
But tigers and copperhead, red-bellied black
often lay in the sun on an overgrown track,
where the wombat or wallaby travel along
to graze on native grasses near the billabong.
So life still carries on around the billabong
where water looks stagnant, a bond is still strong
with a river now rushing it’s way to the sea,
past the billabong living, where the course used to be.
a tsunami catapulted cruising skiff
skyward landing with quiet thud
across undulating infinite granular waves
formerly solid state rocks and minerals
optimism vibrant upon initial unforeseen
crash asper for test dummies
foundered as undertow fostered diminishing hope
initial faith for survival quickly ebbed
nsync with retreating tidal wave
pessimism dreamt fantastical holograms
farther from beached berth
immediately transformed into quicksand,
while off in the distance
a glimmering chimera
(the first of many) appeared
amidst the desert sands one mirage
after another falsely broken promise
buoyed drained salvation
quick decision decreed each man for himself
thus disseminating banded bruited "brothers"
condemnation, damnation, excoriation, fulmination
hurled at cosmic creator thwarting intercession
dehydration, exhaustion, ingratiation, jubilation
foretold merciless portentous demise
witheringly desiccating lovely bones of mine
no doubt raw elements of nature wrought
fate worse than death sans, cabin "mates"
lost among expanse of whittled quartz
across chronometer measuring millions of years
now subjecting one measly mortal i.e. me
to cruel unforgiving, unrelenting,
unwelcoming petty coated junction
blistering hot wind obliterated
fellow travelers convoy deeply
within diabolical dunes
eternally erased doom
awaited for 21st century explorers
to discover scattered wreckage
both beast of burden, outrigged contrivance
and starry trekkers, who vanished without a trace
a handful of scrappy rapscallion existences
blotted (like ink, oil, or other liquid sponged),
where subsequent seasons
of wicked bewitched slow torture
akin to being raked over hot coals
exception made for this interminable sufferer
at the whim of sadistic
persona non grata evil spirit
n'er obliterating diehard survivor instinct
a foreigner to yours truly
but atavistic primitive fight or flight
witnessed relieved whence absently blinking
this life married to indiscriminate
clamped, harried, styled devilishness
evaporated in thin air
upon tentatively opening myopic brown eyes
horror, twas boot a dream.
1Hundred6
1Hundred6
CharlaXFabels
Easter2
Christ Crucified.
The Cross
They took him from the crowd apart and nailed HIM both hands and feet unto the
instrument of torture the cross of Golgotha complete the scriptures had prophecy
concerning this event to complete the salvation of all of man. The LORD of all
creation hung and suffered ridicule and thirst and hunger of a different sort for
Heaven he was thirsty then. They cast lots upon his garment.
The prayers were hardly out left far behind when eye began to reap the benefits
of health improved my finances of wealth increase can be explained away by
fools but ewe we knoe the truth for JESUS gives. My target Heaven my wealth
health and all my food my found and scrounged and Easter egged 2 all come
forth from HIM. A Poor and sinfilled man quite given to the drink may lie and steal
and say he found it near his drink he “assumes someone has left it there” is
what he barks at the beertender the drunk outside may soon die from his
concussions the man left near the bathroom door he took a wooden batted
thatch knocked upon the drunken noggin put the man all out took from him his
wealthy purse to pay just for one more night out seeking oblivion again to drink
perchance to dream the detectives came to task the man for overall complaints
the thief he muttered “HOW? did you know that it was me ,yes? HOW?” Detective
Fabel was on the case he was pushing by the place the alleyway and heard the
cricket paddle whack the commoner went down he is bound to get better now in
the hospice we have found for him but you will only get worse in the old
hoosegow. The old banded man in the alleyway digging in the trash can has
more hope than you as they take the thief away the scrounger finds a basket full
of boiled eggs left there an Easter 2 colored all purple and white inside the
yellow yolk looking like a big surprise the color of a dandylion sunrise.
This being Native American Heritage month I salute the indigenous people
whose knowledge and principles I wish we’d done more to embrace…
instead of doing everything in our power…their culture and identity to erase.
If we’d only taken the time to see the world, our Earth, from their perspective
from their unique point of view….
we could have learned a lot…take for instance…the Lakota Sioux.
Let’s start with the name they chose…Lakota…and we begin to comprehend…
for they saw Lakota as a gift…it simply means ‘banded together with friends’.
The Lakota formed a partnership with Mother Earth…with her they felt a spiritual connection.
and so…they treated her with deference…with reverence and affection.
They kept Dreamcatchers over their beds…so as they slept…once they bid the day adieu…
It would catch all of their bad dreams…while letting only their good dreams through.
They would look to the morning star…once their final dream had gone…
and they would pray to her for wisdom, understanding…
as she ushered in the dawn.
The morning star was so important to the spiritual life the Lakota built
It can be found in their art…in their designs, in their clothing…
and it is sewn into their quilts.
The Lakota believed in a healthy mind and body…they were among the first to understand….
we must respect the Earth and all her creatures…and live in balance with the land.
We could have learned a lot from the Lakota…if we had taken the time to embrace them…
We cold have benefited from one anotherIf if we had not tried to erase them.
Thankfully, we did not erase them form the Earth…
though lower in numbers, bruised and battered the Lakota have survived
and the culture and their identity we hoped to destroy…their people have revived.
So I made a wish upon the morning star on my walk today…
that our country…our world would begin to change it’s fate…
by adopting the philosophy of the Lakota…before it is too late.
Beethoven to roll over,
dee composing
(sans my zany brainy adherence
to "FAKE" information I eschew)
and essentially single handedly grew
the contemporary paradigm few
off fish shill educated
people didst swallow
hook, line and sinker, but perhaps
an enlightened gentile and/or Jew
found credulity linkedin with the then
far reaching somewhat sunnily
revolutionary antithetical concepts only
gull lib bull and/or cuckoo,
despite the logically
substantiated veritable true
lee near custom fit, hunky
dory, integrated metaphorical
interlocking puzzling pieces
rightly anchoring vast vista
(realm of known knowledge,
viz apple pi order)
shipshape motley crue foo
fighting banded divers lee distinct
whirled wide webbing
did not experience
smooth semantic sailing,
and rather recently
(historically "speaking") Renaissance
exuded approbation, and found substantial
adherents among cognoscenti,
who took to heart as gospel truth,
the expansive database
apropos christened Aristotéles translated
to mean Superior; best of thinkers,
whose missives dissected, inspected,
and probed for ethical, philosophical,
and rhetorical handy
dandy blues clue
meriting nascent outlook, sans salient
rubric quintessential pointing cue,
analogous to eternal spirit hovering,
guiding, and favoring new
acolyte, or stalwart
diehard Aristotelian hew
wing painstakingly, thru
prodigious tomes binding
ancient (classical Greece) via
Aristotelianism super glue
rebranded within modern roam'n Times
Font 12 visa vis,
when re: discovered
anew by Martin Heidegger
Ayn Rand, and Alasdair MacIntyre.
ON RESCUING AN INJURED PIGEON
I.
sliding screen door screeches, pigeons scatter
thump of wing against breast, shockwave breeze
more frequent than in the past, shimmering necks
soundtrack squirrel zig-zags, new-green lawn
perches like the pigeons, await my departure
II.
he appeared in the night, a tattered statue
grey as the rumbling skies, white patch on his back
must be hurt, too painful to move, teal collar
my compassion swells, how can I help?
leave him seed and water, natural healing
III.
red-toed demon leaving bird-turd on my deck
can barely walk let alone fly away, railing perch
rain or sun sits most of the day, ruffled feathers
hit his head or fallen, maybe a scuffle with a cat
wants to be part of a flock, I move closer
IV.
day three I made him a coop, Bucky by name
Becky if it’s a girl, I’m not checkin’, won’t go in
moving better, flies a little, short bursts
still prefers my perch, watch him sleep, still
hours to days, nothing seems to change
V.
the four-legged’s have found the coop and feed
I become my grandmother chasing chipmunks, futile
Bucky likes grass, hacksaw walk, double-banded
looks strong enough to fly, abandoned racer
wonder, is it psychological or could it me?
VI.
trail of seeds brought him to the edge, coop and me
as I watch him he watches me, wide ruddy eyes
huddles in a ball on one foot, freckled vest
finally, twice today he found his way to the coop
sad he can’t go home, sheltered but dispossessed.
VII.
animal rescuer Howard came with a net today
tried clumsily to catch him, lift and accelerate
over the treetops he flew, circled back to land
from the rooftop he smiled down at us, relieved
proof time heals all wounds, in rock pigeon world.
Aug 30/18
They called you Grandma -
matriarch of Taiaroa Head.
Your husband of seventeen years,
Blue-Green,
named after the colours of the bands
they placed around his leg.
For over sixty years you
returned to this windswept
piece of Otago coast to breed.
The surrounding sea
a golden harvest of fish
into which time and time again
you dove at sickening breakneck speed.
On clifftop nest your last chick,
Button, crying to be fed.
You fished your heart out on
ocean voyage yet
he not yet fledged lost weight,
but forever present the keen eye
and caring hands of Shirley Webb.
Most of your life was spent at sea -
a radius of continents -
Chatham Islands,
The Sisters, Hello friends!
As always gliding majestically.
Born in 1927, you died in 1989,
no doubt in some bastard
foreign driftnet or deep water longline.
Nylon can’t fly
nor fools heed the curse
of the Ancient Mariner’s Rime.
So glide on Grandma,
glide on your satin silver wings,
for great will be
forever your beauty
the memory of you brings -
three million miles flown lost at sea.
Written: 1991
*Grandma was lost at sea aged at least
62 years.
*She was at the time the oldest banded
breeding albatross recorded.
*Taiaroa Head is in Otago, New Zealand.
*Shirley Webb was a conservationist
and guide who lovingly looked after
the albatross breeding colony.
*As of October 2022 Button still returns
to Taiaroa Head to breed. He is 33 yo.