Riding a thermal, without a flap of wings,
hot air billowing his black cloth canvas,
a crow sails the gray ocean of a foggy afternoon.
No flap of the wings, no readjustment
of rope and sail, it seems as though he is
not moving at all; a figurehead
as the Earth skims the cosmic ocean.
He breaks his statuary, shedding the current
like a coat of dust, the crow banks down beneath
the cresting green waves of pine trees, resurfacing
with a gasp for air so loud the foghorn trembles
in embarrassment, and assumes his place as the
figurehead of the world once more.
NINE ELEVEN
That fateful day when the news came in
Grim indeed, but seemed a world away
The two tall pinnacles of a modern city
It took some time to really feel the pity
All colour disappeared, leaving only grey
And in that moment chaos would begin
Services were scrambled to reach the site
One soon after the other, crashing down
Crumbling stonework, and twisted iron
All due to the human version of a prion
Penetrating the very nucleus of downtown
And a rapid spreading of fear and fright
There was also a third attack later that day
At the very heart of military intelligence
Back at the collapsed World Trade Center
Clouds hung in the air, like dirty polenta
For such a wound, there was little defence
And dusty survivors stumbled to get away
A nation that never imagined such an event
It was a most painful strike on body and mind
Perhaps the warning signs were never heeded
Some serious readjustment certainly needed
Into the psyche, new determination enshrined
And a message of war was packaged and sent
Simply switching to a new phase,
Humbert finds himself in a new maze,
His face a great mask of blank gaze,
To all the asked questions Quick Nays.
Humbert tries The New Untried Ways
And it is a champ’s blows that daze,
Humbert badly turning sideways
Like the punch-drunk listless for days.
Big dreams to again the trail blaze,
For seen Humbert had better days;
Still the dithering mind - he strays
While Pure Standards he hopes to raise…
Of the things we should their range know
Is readjustment’s – then, we go!
We in Brazil we were from time
of instantaneous inflation... !
Prices varied by minutes...
We would "steeplechase" inside
of the markets, chasing
of the price remarker and its
machine...!
We had to run faster
than everyone to reach to the cashier
with the price without further readjustment...
The morning we received
the salary, we were "rich"...
30 million cruzeiros in my pocket....
In the morning we could buy
2 shopping purchases, 2 pairs of shoes, and 2
pants and 2 shirts... in the afternoon everything
half... ! the other day, well
another day, it was already agony...!
The readjustment was the hardest part
Not leaving the war zone
Or coming home back to his country
And to his wife and family and friends
But actually readjusting to the fact
That fact that he had no legs
He left them back in Iraq
Not as a war victim or injury
To a vehicle accident instead
His Hummer left the road and rolled
He was lucky to escape with his live
The medics took him to the hospital
It was touch and go but he made it
The army will pay for his recovery
And give him a pension
Plus a pair of tin legs
And keep him on the books
An advisory role for future wars
He did ok from his accident
But readjusting is still hard
This is his new normal...
Once we were blue and tough as nails
Who didn’t falter and rarely fails
We stood together and knew what was needed
With just enough force not exceeded
But that was during our time
In yesterday when the badge was mine
What do you do when the badge disappears
And readjustment is now here in all its fears
Our expertise is no longer needed
As the discussion of life rarely impeded
So we find other things to do
Retired coppers where it’s up to you.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Forty-Seven Years
By Franklin Price
12/21/2016
Forty-seven years of marriage
And love transitioning
I look back on with memories
And what true love would bring
When we met, began as friends
No spousal thoughts were there
Had bonding with each other
Friendship, to love and care
Love with passion to begin
Always to feel the touch
Anywhere at any time
There never was too much
As time went by and life went on
Responsibility would change
Our daughter growing older
It was time to rearrange
Love for three instead of two
Readjustment was a must
To make a love and life for all
A relationship to trust
Got her through school and college
Now she's married on her own
We now have two granddaughters
Who are raised and mostly grown
The love's still there, was meant to be,
From that start long ago,
My wife is still the one I love
There is no doubt, I know
Retired now, we live alone
The love for us; no end
Best friends and sometimes lovers
On each other to depend
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