That is Admirable A.B. Owl to you the man said.
Buckets of medals must have gone straight to his head.
The rest of us rolled our eyes behind his arrogant back.
We were privates and sergeants, his experience we lack.
However, we know that the little guy is an owl too.
We are kind and respectful. Our commissions long overdue.
The witches are coming to inspect us in a minute for their force.
We are trying to look grown, but we are only eighteen of course.
On Halloween night I expect you to all to snap to attention,
Admirable A.B. Owl said, without a second of dissention.
We all knew the rules, but we kept our beaks shut.
We did not want to get relegated to the solitary hut.
The goblins may come with an owl – one or two.
They like to play tricks but here’s what we’ll do.
We’ll ignore their antics, and not act like we care.
Hey! They are coming right now, flying into our air.
We were gob smacked at how fast these entities flew in.
One of the witch grazed me hard on the ear and the chin.
I let out a wail that was loud as all sin.
That will be a thousand pushups the Admiral said without grin.
Dresden, it is said, was bombed to an ashen landscape,
A giant burned out match head. Explodable no more.
Small Dresdens found along our driveway no longer smell of sulphur
But remind me of Father lighting cigarettes.
My father, nicotine addicted,
Member of the greatest generation,
That saved the world from Hitler and "El Duche"
Who addressed the fascist crowds from balconies
We shake rugs from
All across a peaceful Midwest now.
Nurses used to pass out Camel packs
To steady nerves of soldiers switching trains
As they waited at stations,
Sergeants said, "Smoke 'em if you got 'em"
To put stiff soldiers all at ease.
Among foxhole faithful, it was thought
Unlucky to be third man on a match.
The first to gain attention, the second to sight how far away
The third is shot between cupped hands
That shield against the wind.
daughters drill sergeant
was nicknamed mother Russia
sons disneyland
Cletus O'Toole was a hopeless recruit
Cletus cared for the army not one hoot
He was the sergeants bane
And deemed their rules inane
He was asked to leave and given the boot
got pigeon holed early in an obstacle race
called a fifties town culture and army base
[...nuns...ex colonels and sergeants for teachers...]
died many deaths but weathered the scars
mind can hold now what's as far as the stars
[...beyond the books...the preachers...]
arrived at a philosophy of fractal phenomenology
truth and what's true being more than mythology
[...got one foot in the abstract...the other's in this grave...]
this chain we call existence has a few restrictions
reality's construct base is inherent contradiction
[...walkin...need a cane now...watchin...the world slowin again...]
stan sand
Move!/
Wait!/
Hurry!/
Yes, Sergeant!/
Make your buddy smile!/
Straighten ranks; fix your intervals!/
You have twenty seconds and ten are already gone!/
You are no longer new recruits, you are now soldiers; congratulations!/
Stand down
In his bedsit he sits and waits.
Tears fall as he remembers his mates.
In his bedsit alone and forlorn,
No one notices the curtains undrawn.
In his bedsit,amid the damp and squalor,
He can still hear his sergeants holler.
In his bedsit, he sits and stares,
Remembering the noise amid the flares.
The whistle blew and he saw every man,
Go over the top, into bullets they ran.
He too went into that man made hell,
Seeing his comrades fall under the hail,
Running and crawling in the red mud,
Over the wire he went, fear in his heart,
Seeing friends fall and get blown apart.
How he survived those times he doesn't know,
While thousands died both friend and foe.
But survive he did and at last came home,
To walk down his street feeling so alone.
Many years have passed and age takes it's toll,
No one asks him now, talk of war is so droll.
What did you do in the war? No one cares,
No one remembers the old guy upstairs.
So in his bedsit, he sits and waits alone,
For someone to say " Soldier, here is your crown".
Your orders have come for you to stand down.
© Dave Timperley in Remembrance of War, 2018
'Tis know wander nor em aye telling yew anything gnu,
Hour tongue is awash with homophones confounding me end ewe.
Ah, two sea thee broad expenses from a towering mountain peek;
Thee pristeen see, thee rolling veil end meandering creak.
Watt a thrill two watch thee eagle as it sores threw thee heir;
With incisive ayes it seeks its pray with indomitable flare!
Sergeants ar knowted four naming voluntears write out of thee blew,
With that knot sew subtle commend, "Eye knead you, ewe end yew!"
Watt they were volunteared fore, they haven't thee slightest clew,
Butt that is a part of army life, beeing tolled watt two dew!
Wee're tolled inn thee Good Book that inn thee grate buy-end-bye,
Wee shell awl return two dust wen it comes hour our too dye.
It can bee etched upon my stone wen my life comes two a cease:
"Though he maid grate youse of homophones, Mae he lye inn piece!"
There is strength there is power. “Mommy, look at this lovely flower!”
There is war and there is strife. “C’mon lets go fly a kite!”
There is guns and there is knives. “Look at my kite rise and rise!” There are warlords there are tyrants. “Hey Jo, can you hold the call on those Clients?” There are Officers and there are sergeants. “This silver is of the finest argent!” There is my skin, burnt ashy and gray. “But daddy, Are you coming home to stay?”
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 Cheaters Ball
Who will dance the past with me
in penguin suit all snowy white
Music is live with old time and jive
i’m afraid we shall all look a fright
With dashing white sergeants
ladies promenading the gowns
dripping diamonds silver and gold
Champagne flooding the tables
making gentry younger and bold
Deaf waiters smile nicely
whispered vows are exchanged
hearts stolen while lovers are lost
This is history repeating itself
part of the dance perchance
part of the cost
The current antics of the Washington DC rabble is viewed with much bemusement!
Their inaction ain't funny, but their inane babble is cause for great amusement!
Seems rogues of all parties from the top down are in w-a-y over their head.
I propose that we elect mean ol' retired sergeants to run things there instead!
Sergeants tend to see things in black and white and possess tons of common sense!
They lead from the front, ain't afraid to make decisions and brook no nonsense!
Sergeants believe in integrity, care for their people and support the Constitution!
They are taught, as Prophet Isaiah said, "to reason together" to reach a resolution!
I suppose I'll have to recruit a horde of NCOs to fix things in Washington town!
(That is unless the Administration declares it's off-limits due to the shutdown!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
(L)eatherneck Jugg Butt was detailed to clean the barracks latrine,
(A) humiliatin' prospect for a dedicated United States Marine!
(T)he young jarhead wanted so much to gain Captain Grumpy's affection.
(R)eduction in rank he could face if he failed the captain's urinal inspection!
(I)f he flunked, he could end up in the mess hall scrubbin' pots and pans!
(N)o way he wanted to be assigned to trash detail dumpin' garbage cans!
(E)ndearment for sergeants, officers and the Corps he hath a paucity of!
Your not sure how you got to this point
You said it was pride
took the pen into your hand
signed that dotted line
Before your on your own two feet and stand
they say they can make you a man
In war the score is yours, was that the plan?
Keep your head up son, I'm sure you can
They say that freedom ain't free
Is that why every year I see
The young and the dreamy
impassioned by drill Sergeants screaming
This is life boy, give your life boy
just so arrogant people play life like a toy
ready to be deployed so someone else can enjoy?
This is not me, but written in blood for family
Never thought it would hit home directly
But you never know what you hold or what you got
until the trigger is pulled, guns shot
When the smoke clears
Best hope you reside
Hold your own, no fear
This is just stop one on a very large ride
Returning home and everything stayed the same
funny how one experience in life
everything in your eyes feels changed
but that's the knife or rather ripple
in reality and the dream we are instilled
while your smiling at home
someone's protecting you under their own will
There are eminent personages among the enlisted grades,
Who deserve the utmost in respect and well-earned accolades.
These are the dedicated Sergeants of whom I speak,
Who guide the strong and encourage the weak!
Steadfast leaders whom commanders rely upon,
When they need to get the tough jobs done.
Never-bending sturdy oaks in the face of adversity,
Possessing traits held by few - loyalty and integrity!
Sergeants descend from a long and distinguished tradition,
Following those who faithfully served with great distinction.
Proudly wearing chevrons bestowed upon a privileged few,
And setting high standards for generations that will ensue!
From time immemorial through the present generation,
Brave men and women were led by Sergeants with dedication.
Dreadful loss of life and limb was, alas, sustained,
To ensure that our precious liberties were maintained!
I'm a proud member of this elite fraternity and brotherhood,
Ever marching arm in arm for the nation's common good.
Molding young patriots to defend our glorious heritage.
All serving this great nation with indomitable courage!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
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