Someone can call you " rebel "
Which is his " her" new label
As you are not under his " her" control
Then he " she" turns to be your new patrol,
That consumes much petrol.
SNOW PATROL
It was late on Christmas night
All was silent and no sound
Santa Claus was running late
And he was in such a state
His sleigh had run aground
It was for all, a terrible plight
With more presents to deliver
With mince pies he was so full
The sleigh it weighed so much
All it needed was a lighter touch
So his reindeer again could pull
But so cold, he began to shiver
In the sky was a flashing light
Then a breakdown elf arrived
The elf soon fixed the sleigh
And then all were on their way
So relieved that they’d survived
And that it all turned out alright
The East West German Border
A heavily guarded barbed wire fence
There for containment
Not for defence
He sat alone in the Mess
Methodically drinking
Trying to numb his mind
Trying to stop thinking.
He'd been leading his patrol
Out along the wire
Had nearly lost control and
Let his men open fire.
He was almost too late
With his urgent shout
One or two of the men
Had slid live one up the spout
A family in the minefield,
That's as far as they got
A guard in the tower saw them
And the father was shot.
Just to make sure
He was truly dead
A full metal jacket
To the side of head.
They rounded up the family
And took them away
Just another Cold War incident
On another Cold War day.
He’d finished the patrol
Debriefed the men
Changed into his civvies
Wandered off and then
He sat alone in the Mess
Methodically drinking
Trying to numb his mind
Trying to stop thinking
The country now reunited,
The Border gone and yet
The stones to the dead remain
To make sure they don’t forget.
The kitten patrol was alert and ready for something to start.
Hiding in the hills among the leaves of autumns’ trees.
Kicking oak and maple offerings out of their foxholes.
What do you see Captain? The head guard kitten asked.
The other kittens were at a loss as to what they were expecting.
The road was clear, there was no indication of a warring troop.
No dusty trail; nothing!
We booked on the radio as was the way
And out the station we drove away
The radio prattles its continual banter
As we policed the streets at a slow canter
There were disturbances some loud but not unique
And pub brawls to make the night complete
There were shoppies on day shift
With neighbourly disputes sorting out the grift
Throw in a Coroners at some one’s demise
Taking a report through the rels cries
Until the end of the shift comes round
For a quiet drink and to talk it all down.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Can you hear the whispers
brought on by the wind storming?
Carried true by the harpers,
the tale the howls are forming?
Came a knock at the farmer's door,
a mailed fist with a fate to turn.
A sob, a wail, a call to war,
a boy, a son, home soon to yearn.
Soon a soldier strode from youth,
to the beat of the king's drum.
A shield his hide, a sword his tooth,
his pack stood the night to come.
Oh for the heroes of men,
the ones who hold the line -
oh for the kin behind,
the ones who hold to hope.
Silence broke to a thunderous horn,
the battle joined with the savage horde.
On a bloody tide he thus was borne,
death he granted and fury he roared.
Silence returned with a blade's sigh,
sanguine as it was ripped away.
A keen, a dirge, a mother's cry,
a man, a son, home soon to lay.
Oh for the heroes of men,
the ones who hold the line -
oh for the kin behind,
the ones who hold to hope.
A place to rest he was given,
a peace he has not taken.
To guard, to serve he is driven,
his will, his resolve unshaken.
So when you see a warrior's mound,
shed not a tear to hear the bugle -
hark rather the marching sound,
for he yet walks the vigil.
In my country, gangs of fiends own the night.
In my country, we lived broken lives of torment.
My family fled with little but our naked terror.
Bleeding and blistered, our feet carried us hundreds of miles.
But I always had my familia.
We migrated in trucks, never sure
we could trust coyotes.
We roamed scorching desert, never
sure we would find food or water.
Sometimes we waited until nightfall, hidden from view.
We were nocturnal prey on winding dirt roads,
never sure if we would be killed.
But I always had my familia.
Our bellies choking from hunger,
our desolate depletion, the final forces
delivering us to the border.
So distant my country, so remote in this
unearthly place where we were captured by
armed strangers, where we were divided by
strangers.
Today, I no longer have my familia.
This day is glass shattering and the shards
cut me open like a skinned rat.
Today I am that bawling baby paralyzed
by panic.
Today I am that shrieking child trembling
in terror.
Today I am that adolescent crowded
in a cage.
Today I am that tortured toddler
crying himself to sleep.
Published: Dissident Voice 11/8/20
The night began like any other,
I grabbed my gear, laced up my boots,
And threw spit shine on the leather.
Rifle slung and bag in hand with the usual friendly banter
I had yet to reach my ride
As the mic began to chatter.
Heading to a crash, one that happened at high speed
Smoke debris and gasoline
Unsure of what I’d need
I hit the lights and sirens and surged my car to life
I felt beside my magazine
to ensure I had my knife.
Updates came as I picked up speed,
Though their tone had already spoken
There would be no life to save this day, another family broken
The cars like origami, metal mixed with flesh
I cut right through their shattered windshield,
But all I found was death
I remind myself again that I know it’s for the best.
I’m one of the few who deal with this
To shelter all the rest.
I left that call and drove away, my shift had just begun
I was only fifteen minutes in
and we’ve lost another one
Quote :: “Trust is like a piece of paper, once it's crumbled up it can never be in its original shape”. ~Unknown.
Trying hard……. (Poetic Form: Patrol Poem)
Believed our love was real;
Believed fully your promise;
Believed attitudes sweet talks;
Believed each word, you promised.
Trust is non-negotiable;
Trust is part of integrity;
Trust was only base of our bond;
Trust disgraced; No sincerity!
Fact is now to live alone;
Learning how to face the fact
Fact is it's hard to forgive,
It's the fact, I hate your act.
~x~x~
The sun is sinking in the west
On a long hot summer day
There’s just the radio, my patrol car and me
As I look to the traffic on the highway
The holiday crowd is passing through
On the long haul homeward bound
There are long lines of cars
As travelers pass me by
Some of the drivers give me a wave
Whilst others just look straight ahead
Being seen is the order of the day
As I drive up and down the desert road
The bush awakens from the hot day
As the evening cools off
The sky is full of pastel blues, reds and yellows
As the day ends in desert dreams.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Full moon
Brightly illuminates the forest
As a soldier leaps
Might you be
That very special girl
I hold so tight
As our love reaches new heights
Our souls dance with delight
Looking for the perfect direction
When our paths crossed
With such loving affection
Do we dare try to compare
How much we love and care
When we turn up the degrees
On this amazing sensuality
When I found myself shifting to patrol
Face to face with your glory-hole
Rather than hold,
When I found myself losing control
Like a red hot injection,
You strive for perfection
Blowing my mind
Hanging on to this rodeo
Cause you stole the show
When you put this cowboy
Into tallyho
Sealing it with a big wet kiss
You're such a loving dish
Going out of your way
Fulfilling my every wish
You are the real deal
Who prides themselves
When you kiss the sky
Riding this rodeo guy
As I foresee
Some of the best whoopee
All for a man like me
Now our spirits set free
With this wonderful love
Wrapped around me
Endless miles on mean streets
A patrol that never seems complete
People whom you will see
Who will never be who they wanted to be
And children running around
Late at night no parents found
Too many drinks or too many drugs
Just drive by them with another shrug.
© Paul Warren Poetry
met a line of ghosts
each smoking marijuana
cried for quick rescue
Lord I just don't understand it makes no sense to me
When parents put their child in danger how selfish can they be
They'll often put them in the car not properly restrained
From years of doing meth and weed I think it's fried their brain
When the police pull them over and sees a child in the back
And in plain sight they spot a pipe along with heroin and crack
The cops finally detain them and the children start to cry
While another officer comforts them and tries to explain why
Their mommy and daddy have to go away
And for a while they'll have to find another place to stay
O Lord protect our children let your angels hover near
And bless the cops who take the time to calm their restless fears
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