dreaming daughter ascends starlit harbor....
to her father's biding love
he is as she remembered....jovial in the
way he was on earth
they embrace in the twilight....stars fill
their tearful moonlight eyes
navy dad once....now on god's deployment
awaits final reunion
**********
********** o n a i r l a n d a n d s e a
**********
********** w e n t to w a r a n d g a v e t h e i r l i v e s ~
**********
t h e y f o u g h t f o r f r e e d o m
To The Forgotten
Military history is written by the victors.
Generals and politicians who stamp
their names on the pages of books
written by men and women in ivory towers.
It is actually made by the common:
legionnaire, dog face, doughboy, airman,
seaman and marine. Most names unknown
to those that write the histories.
But every name a known part of a life story
to a mother, father, spouse or child who’ve
watched their loved ones go off to help
someone else make history.
What they don’t tell You
What the recruiters tell you:
“Be all you can be.”
“An Army of one.”
“Fly high with the Air Force.”
“Join the Navy and see the world.”
“Be the best. Be a Marine.”
“Join the National Guard and get an education and keep your job.”
Things recruiters leave out:
Watching your friend(s) go home in body bag(s).
The dirt and sweat.
C rations, K rations, MRE’s.
PTSD, suicides, drug addiction.
Limbs lost. Traumatic brain injury.
Bloated, decomposing corpses.
Dead men, women and children.
Fear so intense you soil yourself.
Lice, sand, dust, cold, heat.
The stench of death.
Families torn apart.
Long road to rehab or death whichever comes first.
The Queen has a navy
That floats in her gravy,
It’s sharp and its clear,
But it’s sure tough to steer,
For the rudders get stuck
In that thick, grayish muck,
And the lads in the stern
Have a penchant to yearn
For the bright shining waters
All popping with otters,
Yet they smile as they sail past
Her Majesty’s repast,
And wink as they think
That they’d better not sink,
For if sailors go down
In the gravy, they’ll drown,
And you can’t hear them yelp
Through the lard for some help,
And therefore it’s wise
On the ship to keep eyes,
And they sail towards a biscuit
And think that they’ll risk it,
‘Midst butters and jams,
And kippers and clams,
On a crumbly crag
Raise Her Majesty’s flag,
And with hearts beating proud
Face the smiling crowd,
For a deed large or small,
It is better than all,
If it’s done with conviction,
Not merely good diction,
And protecting the table,
Or more, if you’re able,
Brings honor unseen
To country and Queen.
In crisp fall air, a crowd's joyful football roar
Trump stands with a smile, a leader to adore
With banners flying Army, Navy-- the rivalry's fierce
A moment in time, where spirit won't cease
© daniel miltz
Awesome to see the 47th President.
And, soon to be, our new, White House Resident!
Being welcomed, warmly at this game,
Number 47…..elected by popular fame.
The USA chose him to run this nation free.
No longer an ugly weaponinzation tree!
War makers who sucked this nation dry.
Better go find another fish to fry.
No wonder Joy Reid shaved her head.
And smarmy,Don Lemon’s career is about dead!
Joe and Mika, please, go cry in your beer.
Endless negativity and lies, ends in our cheers!
12/14/2024
Merry Christmas
Happy Chanukah
Navy armada
Scene like majestic sea clouds
of chill Sagada.
starlight and raven waters....silence white of eyes
shadows nearing shore
At my first sight of him,
I saw such a benevolence,
the Cuban youth with mocha skin
and bright root beer-brown eyes,
he only loved me,
I, a frivolous woman.
He was nineteen, I was twenty-two,
his steadfast devotion of heart,
my UK heritage fire.
How I wish I could send him a message
through the timelessness of poetry,
breathed into his dreams by an angel,
to say, when I think of us forty-three
years ago,
I sing a song of the sea.
We were U.S. Navy recruits in the
challenges of boot camp.
He thought my plain looks were
beauteous,
he, so serene and gentlemanly,
what a man should be.
He gave me an engagement ring,
when we graduated that hot
Orlando, Florida day,
the loving man too good for me,
how I hurt his truest of cherish,
he only loved me,
the woman of a thousand fragments.
Not long after he went out to the
vasty romantic sea,
I wrote him ending our engagement,
I never saw him again.
The years a flash of decades,
that brought my sorrow in tidal waves.
When I set sail in my elder's nocturnal
sleeping sojourns,
I think of him as my memories soar
as if an oceanic bird,
and awake-
to sing a song of the sea. ~
fight Terrestrials
those deadly sea horses swims
born the new navy
2/11/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2023
I chanced on a lady in waiting,
That kissed me.
And called me Baby.
"I say, hey,
It's a mistake, Lady.
You can kiss me Again,
But Your Husband,
Is Me, Matey...Baby.
Luv Ya Son.
CVN 72, Thank You.
That's Abe Lincoln, Matey.
H.Elless
Total Rogue.
Blockade Lift
They wanted the grain
Putin's ships stood in the way
And needed sinking immediately
They lifted the Russian naval blockade
Of Ukrainian ports with NATO warships
So the world wouldn't starve
Millions of tons of grain and wheat
This was the way forward
But Putin had other ideas
He was losing on land
And in the sky so badly
Ukraine was fighting for freedom
Putin hated NATO and the West
He launched his nuclear toys
Hitting the NATO ships and carriers
With torpedoes missiles rockets and more
All nuclear winning this battle
But losing everything when NATO
Hit Russian bases with their nukes
Thus setting in turn Armageddon
Dooming us all to varied deaths
It was a matter of fact
This would end bad
In so many ways
Nobody won World War 3
Nobody ate the freed grain
We were all dead
Off to the sea in ships we all go,
Untested, but cock sure, as iron to a forge
Deck apes, snipes and gunners are we,
Salt spray, steam and gun smoke to deal
Up early and turning to ‘til late,
While pilfered horse cock, cards and dice await
Down to the bilges and up to the bridge,
Or off to clean the head each day begins
Gunnery drills and damage control,
A well-oiled fightin’ machine we all have become
Man Overboard! Gunner to the bridge,
Seems ole Oscar has taken a dip
A catnap before we take on fuel,
Heavy seas and darkness again to duel
Heave around lads, hand over hand!
Get the rig on deck the bos’n demands
Finally completed and soaked to the skin,
No rack for me, I’ve got the mid
Reveille! Reveille! Up at first light,
Clampdown awaits then I’ll grab a bite
In port tomorrow and liberty awaits,
But first there’s a washdown and lots to paint
All is secured and the Chief’s in good cheer,
So it’s off to the gut for some titties and beer
Back before sunrise no Shore Patrol required,
A run through the rain locker before liberty expires
Breakfast and quarters a new day begins,
I’ll borrow a $20 so I can do it again
She is not just any old ship.
She is a warrior, tried and true.
USS Iowa.
I have a plethora of stories about her.
That I share with no one.
For to share would feel like being dismissive.
I cannot dishonor her by disclosing her secrets.
It would feel also like diminishing my time served.
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