Sarge Poems | Examples

she is a clown

Diana wore the shirt around
She’s a clown we said. A clown. A clown.
Her husband told her how to jump and what direction.
She wore this shirt with an afflicted affection.
The shirt said, “My wife is one hundred percent in charge.”
Oddly, she never wore it around her husband Big Sarge.

In the Eye of the Storm

Captain Mars left the wheel to Sarge, first mate
I have to check the lower deck, he said.
If I am not back in twenty minutes, I won’t be back.
The mate was new, he had no idea what that meant

Their ship was being tossed about like a rubber ball
Angry storm had come up suddenly, and was unrelenting
What should I do? Sarge asked an old timer who was near.
“Pray; it is the only thing left,” the old timer said.

Sarge was gritting his teeth so hard, they hurt.
He gripped the wheel, and held on for the ride.
Expecting to not see his twenty-eighth birthday.
“Calm down son,” his grandfather’s voice whispered.

Suddenly calm, Sarge felt a teensy bit of hope.
“It is not as bad as I feared,” Captain Mars said.
He took over the helm, and Sarge returned to his bunk.
His first dream that night was of his days fishing with grandpa.

Tour of Duty

I lie in this bed,
That resembles a coffin.
Hearing sounds from the,
Box on the stand.
Glancing down at this mangled body,
Thinking I've given everything,
That was asked of me.
Yet, many gave the ultimate sacrifice,
They were the lucky ones.
I remember those days of yesteryear. 
I remember my brother's and sisters,
No longer here as I see them,
Dying in my arms.
I pay tribute to the fallen,
As I continue to have nightmares at night.
I see a shadow come thru my door.
A smile I haven't seen for years.
More shadows, more faces and more smiles.
He tells me, "Come on Sarge,
It's time to go home."
I get up out of bed disappearing, 
As if we were never there.
I hear the slight humming,
Of the Alarm in the distant.
Yet, all I see are my brothers and sisters,
At the end of the tunnel,
Waiting for me.
I hear, " Sarge, your Tour Of Duty is over. 
Were going home."

Grandpa Calls Her Sarge

Mythical wizard hag sits on her haughty throne
Who is she? Some whisper, perhaps thinking crone.
Magical and mystical, she is rarely sitting alone.
Her power animals surround her, hoping for a bone.

She gets to make all their decisions, she is in charge.
Her ideas and ideals are incredibly worthy and large.
We know her as grandma, our grandpa calls her the Sarge.
She is the most magical creature we know, our grandma Marge.

New To Hell

A secular soldier's demise came from friendly fire.
Soon demons dragged him into another friendly fire.
A succubus said,” Please dream of freedom and sex,
But there is no option to leave the Hell complex.”
The Sargent felt the thermostat was set too high.
His thirsting throat rapidly became parched and dry.
Satan offered him a brew of ghost pepper juice.
Despite an urge to vomit he could not cut loose.
The Sargent asked to tour all the circles of Hell.
Satan laughed and said, “Dante had nothing to tell,
For all his fabulous prose he was never there. 
And expect no Purgatory for respite care.”
Sarge said, “Dante the poet would not lie for sooth.”
Satan asked, with a pilot shark smile, “What is truth?”
“Why am I here?” the Sarge in acute anguish cried.
“For enlisting in eternity's losing side!”

Waiting To Go Home

Laying in this coffin of a bed,
Staring into a black box that,
Won't talk back.
Legs mangled and arms like limbs,
On a tree if they bend they will break off.
Remembering those days of yesteryear,
When you felt more alive.
Just looking at old glory,
As tears fall from your eyes,
Paying tribute to your brothers and,
Sisters who are no longer here.
Trying to piece together what went wrong....
A shadow comes thru the door,
Of a face I'll never forget.
I smile then I see more and more shadows.
He tells me " Sarge, come on,  it's
Time to go home."
I get up out of bed and,
We disappear into thin air as if,
We were never there.
Then you hear the slight humming,
Noise of a distant machine down the hall.

The Bird of Freedom

Alone and cold,
Hurt bleeding,
Clothes of blood,
Touching, pressure, pain,
Looking,
Finding,
Dressing Pressure, tight,
Pain moaning hurt,
Stay awake,
Hearing noises shh be quiet,
Breathing slow, fear, scared,
Falling falling,
No sleep no sleep,
Stay awake,
Noises crawling on ground,
Hearing whispering Sarge,
Here here,
They're on the way,
Stick you for pain,
Ok good good,
Blinding light, noises, wind, rotors,
My bird of freedom,
Rushing Rushing,
Lifting lifting to the sky,
It's gonna be ok Sarge,
It's over, we're all going home.
Smiling thinking, home, freedom, family.
My bird lifts us to the sky taking us away.
My bird,
My protector, takes us home.

They Write Themselves Up

Adjectives plunk themselves down in two’s and threes.
I watch them gather, peeking from behind solid noun trees.
The blank page delights me, incites me, highlights me.
I try to catch up, but they are everywhere I did not see.

Where to begin? I wonder, but they are not waiting for me.
They are cleverly organizing themselves into a big company.
An army now, they march along leaving their tracks.
I pick up the pen, and one coughs “Here comes one of the hacks.”

This makes me cringe, for I thought I ought to be in charge.
Who does she think she is? An admiral or a convoluted sarge?
The verbs began to gather and start whistling at me now.
Starting their own sentences without my help. Meow!

Roadside Poetry

In my youth I was completely engrossed,
By poetry along the byways nailed to a post!
It wasn't composed by John Greenleaf Whittier;
No, the authors were much more wittier!
I speak of Burma Shave signs once all the craze,
But can only be found in museums nowadays.
I don't claim to own the wit of Nast or Nash,
But here are some I might've composed if I may be so brash!

If its a kiss from yer gal you crave
But the stubble on yer mug she hates
Better grab yerself a can of Burma Shave!

When ol' Sarge says you're grown' too much stubble
And threatens to nix yer weekend pass
Slather yer mug with Burma Shave on the double!

When you were interviewed for a host of jobs
But weren't hired because of yer stubble
Smother yer mug with Burma Shave in gobs!

When you insist on takin' her out to dine
But she says no caressin' yer 5-o'clock shadow
Mow yer mug usin' Burma Shave and all will be fine!

If it's yer handsome mug you want to save
Plain ol' Lifebuoy soap won't do the job
Use plenty of good ol' foamy Burma Shave!

Let me tell you fellers about the latest rave
If you want to impress your sweetie pie
Use smooth and creamy Burma Shave!

The Run Away Cat

Carol’s naps are plenty with a puppy on her hip.
He’s romping fields, she is captain of a pirate ship.
Cat is curled up next to Carol’s swollen up top lip.
Deathly allergic, her eyes open with a whip. 

Sorry apologizes new neighbor, his voice is a clip.
It is his wandering cat; he can’t yet make the pick-up trip.
She pops renegade cat into sleeping bag, gives it a zip.
Tells it as they travel, “Your daddy is a drip!”

Sarge thanks her profusely, her heart does a little flip.
He is handsome and sweet; his child is a boy named Pip.
She chastises love at first sight and tries to get a grip.
He invites her to dinner, serves her pie with cool whip.

She takes an allergy pill now, without having a fit.
In case he calls to invite her out, dreams of muscle rip. 
Man, boy and cat moved on, now a radar blip.
She stares at allergy pills, now an unwelcome gyp.

Letters Lost At War 2

hey momma hows things still sucks here  Eddy and Franky are both dead 
Im more scared than ever momma I just signed up to go to school  I never wanted to have to kill a man and now Ive killed again and again  Im to scared to count them I hate myself but it was them or me  gosh momma I just wanna come home were back out in the dark again all night all night in the dark momma you know how much I hate the dark wish I was home to scary here
                       gotta go bye momma
Im back momma sure do miss you they shot sarge right between the eyes two days ago  he never liked me said I was a sissy we finally got a new one  hope he keeps us alive  think he likes me here you never know who likes you till its to late  if they take a bullet for you they liked you  if they don't  its to late momma its to late tonights our last night out for backup  gotta move out bye





                                                             to be read in order 1-4

False Reflection

Have you ever been fooled
By the moon in still waters?
Mistaken for real,
How do you tell real from an imposter?
If I stir the image of the moon,
Will the ripples ensue chaos?
And cause nagging fish
To surface from the bottom?
Tepid waters preferred
Among the timid hearted.
So watch for insecurities
In the steam of hot water.
I say, how do you catch an imposter off guard?
Planned warfare,
I stir emotions like a guerilla at large.
Set fire to the grass
And watch the snakes slither abroad.
I demand my respect like my title is Sarge.
You don't even love you,
I don't need you to like me.
They're quick to say friend
But my foes make better company.
How do you tell a friend from an enemy?
Stir the false reflection
To find loyalty or insecurity.

Military Life

MILITARY LIFE

Sergeants
They rants!

Slit trench
Big stench!

Don't sass
The brass!

Long march
Sore arch!

Payday
Yea! Yea!

Discharge
Bye, Sarge!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired

Entry for Timothy Hicks' "March Of The Footle" Contest

Last 3 Stanzas of Dixie Poem

Descending the hill, they danced to old reels
Most composed with a Southerner's pen
Four years the blood spilled, half a million were killed
But the States were united again

Celebration complete, the Rebs left Tennessee
The young soldier said, "Sarge, no more slaves
Just one thing bothers me, they were already free
From the bulk of those sent to their graves"

And the sargeant replied as he gazed at the skies
"It's the mighty and wealthy who rule
And they get to decide, while the poor pay the price
But it's God who determines the fool"

There Once Was a Guy Named Sarge

There once was a guy named Sarge
who had seat belts installed in his dodge.
After he strapped his date in,
they committed a carnal sin
without ever leaving the garage.

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