Long Comradeship Poems
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Unter den Linden
I have a soft spot for the German language
when a toddler, I had free access to a military camp where they had enormous horses and let me sit on top of one of them (looking up horses,
I think they were Belgian draft horses)
Since I was 5 years old at the time, I reserve the right to be wrong
My mother said I could speak a little German
I don't think so, but when the Brits and the Americans came, my few words of German were too soon forgotten.
In the late fifties, I was onboard an old ship that
had survived the war but needed its motor seen to in Bremerhaven
the town bore scars of the devastating war
but there was full employment, and everyone was doing something worthwhile, like the farmer who took
took food scraps from ships and fed them to his pigs later, sold for slaughter through ship-chandelier to the merchant ship.
No, Bremenhaven was not Unter den Linden
Not a tree left, cold had the aftermath been
It was spring walking along streets where people sat out telling stories and laughing.
There was a sense of comradeship that made me feel the trauma they had gone through.
At that time, there were no beggars, and no one was following me around in the hope of getting some coins, which was annoying in places like Kingston in Jamaica and other places
Germany has not hitherto played the leading role
a great nation in Europe, this is because the burden
of the Holocaust, a burden unfairly put on the Germans alone to bear, is coming to an end,
also, I think so is the headless policy of not being critical of Israel's policies, which makes many countries
guilty of aiding and abetting the genocide of
of the Palestinian people
In this role I have an relationship
In this role also a just close relationship
There’s an attachment, mutual attachment
There’s an association and I want nothing in return for it
In this role we’re a bond
In this role we tie a link there’s union
There’s again I want nothing from you
There’s again a just have an relationship
There’s again is just a close relationship
In this role fellowship comradeship, companionship,
In this role lasting friendships trust may fallout but come right back
There’s an relationship between friends sends a message I always got ya back
• F— Feeling fellowship to my fellow man in whom I love abundantly
• R---Reporting rapport understanding in unity more affinity in harmony
• I--- Intimacy so I’ll have an mutual love for man and mankind
• E---Empathy toward me and others esteem
• N---Natural love sociability solidarity benevolence
• D---Delving declaiming closeness, rapport, unity
In this role and when my wrongs are forgiven you reach out with no strife
Friendship – this is what the role does and how it plays in my life
4/28/18
Poetry Contest New Poems Only-2-(Friendship)
What role does it play in your life?
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet |
The Celestial NAAFI
Well there sits old Buck like he always did,
Waving his pipe and tilting his lid.
There’s Johnny and Ronny and Shep and old Taffy,
And Soapy still doing his impression of Daffy.
Flapper all quiet at the side with McGraw.
Knocker and Geordie, and old Billy Shore.
And over there’s Banjo, spinning his yarns,
And Bod with his girlfriends, trying to dance.
There’s Baggins and Pusser, Slinger and Freddy,
There’s Millie with Googie – they look like they’re ready.
With Annie and Jo-Jo, it looks like old Hutch
Is making sure he hasn’t lost his light touch.
While Jeffers and Benjy are dealing the cards,
Doc still complains that that the games are too hard.
The faces familiar, the uniforms right,
All fitting perfect, none loose and none tight.
Everyone’s happy and looking their best,
From bulled-up toe-caps to the gongs on their chests.
Back by the bar are the older lads too,
Who went long before, whom none of us knew.
Blue suits and red coats, khaki and green,
All badges and headgear that ever were seen.
Ancient or modern, by sea, land or air,
Be sure of a welcome when it’s time to be there.
Raise a hand and smile, shout a cheery Hello!
To the Celestial NAAFI, where Service Folk go.
Not Invited
When it’s that time of year for beer and reunion
For high-jinks and thoughts and comradely communion
And having a party to be reunited
There’s one who won’t be there – who wasn’t invited.
I don’t like to dance or to wear fancy dress.
I don’t feel the need to get up and impress.
To watch drunken foolishness makes my blood freeze,
I’m even embarrassed by a loud public sneeze.
I’ve never been trendy or one of the boys,
I’m pretty much deaf when there’s ambient noise.
So when events come that are “Not to Be Missed!”
My name won’t be on the participant list.
Never a guest or a welcome Plus One,
Passed over in favour of someone more fun.
My absence not noted, my presence omitted –
Twas always that way – my face never fitted.
Do I feel jealous when old friendships I see
Renewed over decades, that don’t include me?
Does my heart give a lurch, do I feel rejected -
Old Billy No-mates who’s always neglected?
Well it doesn’t feel great, I can tell you for nowt
When lifelong friends are the friends I’m without.
But there’s no point bemoaning a fate that is set,
Nobody cares if I rue or regret.
If I can’t join in, then the problem’s myself.
Where friends are concerned, mine’s a life on the shelf.
So when there’s a gathering, I won’t get excited.
I guess I won’t be there – I wasn’t invited.
you started like a pin prick to
my heart, an intravenous bloodline
saturating my once severed veins.
after the turmoil we both embraced
we scattered poppies in the wind to
secure our comradeship.
a fever rushed down my spine when
we first met.
a friendship bloomed like a field
of a thousand lilies blossoming in
the spring.
we knew not the afflictions we would
face as we both slipped down that
slope of dealing with the death of
our other dear friend.
companionship and affection revealed
our most intimate amiability.
we soared heights to become closer
and even through the confusion life
offers we prevailed in devotion.
benevolence in our closeness doesn’t
even compare to other friendships.
we are both familiar with each other’s
character defaults, yet have learned to
accept through the depth of warmth.
the part you play in my life is simple.
you release my fears with such ease,
you bestow compassion in everything
you say and do.
I worry not when you are near, for you
bring me much needed understanding
when I am weary.
your kindliness and consideration has
given me a hope beyond comprehension.
you feel my emotions and I can discern
your sensitivity.
for you are my truest supporter and I
am forever full of heartfelt gratitude.
New Poems- 2
38 lines total in this poem
Emile Pinet
April 17, 2018
Armchair Warriors are watching
Ever ready to react and criticise.
They know all the theory but not
Looked through a soldier’e eyes.
Young people who were,
For various reasons, willing
To sign away years of life
And take the Queens Shilling.
The training’s hard and tough
But it’s not quite the same,
Deep down inside they know
It’s just a dangerous game,
Preparation for deployment
Out into a combat zone
One of a field unit
Never ever on their own.
Part of that team
Reliant on each other
Shared experience turning
Each member into a brother.
And, until that first action
Not quite sure what they’ll do,
Will that training kick in
And see them safely through.
A tense situation whether
They see action or not.
Training and comradeship
Are all that each has got,
Until, safely back at base,
Until back on safer ground
It’s tine to unwind and
The unit can stand down.
Kit checking and kipping,
Just waiting for the call, then
It’s back out on patrol
And they’ll do it all again.
Decisions made in split seconds
Can later be held to be wrong
But out there at the sharp end
A split second’s not so very long.
And the watchers are watching
That no win no fee legal bunch
Waxing fat on litigation and
The expense account lunch.
Watching and calculating
Just how much they might make
When a frightened soldier
Makes a stress driven mistake.
Out in combat situations
Where the danger is live
And the natural reaction is
Just to want to survive
And those guardians of society
Judge things they’ve not known
And, with hands on their wallets
Calmly cast that first stone.
.
Asleep on the bed
your new arms and legs
placed neatly on the chair by your side.
I see your eyes moving rapidly
testifying to the horrors
that are still alive in your head.
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?
I had to find you.
Search the hospitals
and berate the secrecy
that masquerades as comradeship.
That thing that soldiers do.
Why did they hide you from me?
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?
Or, is it that you were hiding?
Your wish not to be found?
Did you think I would not keep
the promises we made each other?
I have you now; you are found
and loved as ever you were.
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?
I cannot imagine your pain
but it shows clearly on your face
I see the anguish; you had plans;
dreams of children yet to be.
What they took from you
does not make you less than a man.
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?
A Ring a Ring of Uncertainty
A pocket full of Poppies
And love letter good luck charm's
A Spitfire thrust full throttle
War chariot for a single brave owner
History classes will muse about
With only Bravado and comradeship to battle
The skies fall down
Like propeller blades and expunged pilot's
Not kamikaze rather conscripts
Children of the cause
The Spitfire roars
To parental knocks on door's
Saying sorry for your loss
Came not bearing a heroes body fit for a coffin
But a letter and medal to follow
Hollower
Than bullet hole's
On a Spitfire broken frame
Without a Name
Just another German Claim
Heaven bound for Flanders grave
The trampled fight paths of Spitfire exhausted flame ignitions
Burn like fireworks displays on the 5th November
Into countless mothers tears when dinner tables were left uncleared
Knowing her youngest is never returning home
His flight delayed permanently circling on clear day's
So his mother prays
On sober day's
Behind glazed eyes
Spent , her memory's will never relent
Ever more tired
With only the ire of a rusty old coal fire
As consolation ear
Dissolving into fear
If only God could see her
He would give his son to be her
If god be all
Then god be few
There is nothing life can do for her
War has been untrue to her
There is no cure for her
This is for those who complete in the INVICTA games,
I am not in the services, but know few who have served
and have fallen and survived.
I served with a warrior's heart in conflict
Now I compete in these games with spirit
Victory for all who chose now to compete
I honour all our fallen comrades in battle
Choosing to honour them all in one spirit
The greatest victory is fighting in our life
Army, Naval and Airforce we are all same
Gaining the courage to fight my limitation
A challenge that I know i won't face alone
May these games serves as a testament
Ensuring comradeship can bring us peace
Supporting each others is a worthy battle
Asleep on the bed
your new arms and legs
placed neatly on the chair by your side.
I see your eyes moving rapidly
testifying to the horrors
that are still alive in your head.
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?
I had to find you.
Search the hospitals
and berate the secrecy
that masquerades as comradeship.
That thing that soldiers do.
Why did they hide you from me?
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?
Or, is it that you were hiding?
Your wish not to be found?
Did you think I would not keep
the promises we made each other?
I have you now; you are found
and loved as ever you were.
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?
I cannot imagine your pain
but it shows clearly on your face
I see the anguish; you had plans;
dreams of children yet to be.
What they took from you
does not make you less than a man.
How can I tell you
that all that I need came back to me?