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Jerry Troiano Poem
The winning touchdown scored that fall – lingered,
As fresh a memory of that night,
As when the sound of the crowd filled his ears,
And her kisses were warm and deep.
Only to have all that was planned and lay ahead,
Turned upside down and changed forever,
By a draw with no heart or conscience,
And the power to hurl him a world away.
To an ancient land turned killing-field,
A Grunt – slogging through jungles and paddies,
Always scared, yet true to his duty and buddies,
Amid a carnage that numbs his every fiber,
And with every letter, package or paper from home,
Compounding his hurt and feelings of loss,
His thoughts turn to why he is here,
But he is here; so, he will do what is asked of him.
And to return to the states is his greatest wish,
But he sees the lists of MIAs and KIAs,
And does what he must do,
To ease his pain and struggle on through.
He might make it home and pick up the pieces,
Of a life so drastically altered,
Or his final glory just might be, those “Friday Night Lights”,
Pale pink lipstick and warm fall kisses.
Copyright © Jerry Troiano | Year Posted 2019
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Jerry Troiano Poem
I flipped the switch and it roared to life,
With gears spinning and blinking lights,
Dials with arrows swinging left and right,
And a GPS screen to track my flight.
Then I closely examined my historical map,
While holding the keyboard on my lap,
And paused to wonder, where in time to go,
But with so many choices, I just didn’t know.
Maybe to the Pyramids, to witness their building,
And to speak with the aliens about their helping,
Or to Dealey Plaza to see firsthand,
If Lee Harvey Oswald was really the man.
Or to the “56” World Series, which would be nice,
Where Don Larsen put ‘dem Bums’ on ice,
Or maybe I could warp to Normandy’s beaches,
To see what history cannot teach us.
Or possibly a journey to Independence Hall,
Where our Founding Fathers were starting it all,
And I’ve always wanted to see ancient Rome,
And the chariot races at the hippodrome.
Then it dawned on me where I should go in time,
To Jersey City - nineteen-forty-nine,
So, I typed in the coordinates and stepped inside,
And in a micro-second, I completed my ride.
And I found myself standing next to this guy,
Who had a big wide smile and a gleam in his eye,
As he gazed at a bundle all wrapped in blue,
Through a pane of glass that provided the view.
And when the spell was broken, I heard him say,
“That’s my son, right there, he was born today,”
And as we looked at each other, I’m sure he knew,
That I was that bundle wrapped in blue.
Copyright © Jerry Troiano | Year Posted 2019
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Jerry Troiano Poem
Whooshing through the universe – at warp speed,
You think that seat-belts – would have been a need.
Cause how many times – did Uhura’s ass hit the deck,
On almost every episode – of Star Trek?
And with the other bridge crew – flipping through the air,
There was Kirk – just clinging to his chair.
Now Spock, always seemed – to stay off of the floor,
Because picking up Uhura – was his tiresome chore.
Then Scotty would scramble – to his engine console,
To push the buttons needed – to regain control.
Now in the beginning – this made for great viewing,
But it’s apparent now – they had no idea what they were doing.
Copyright © Jerry Troiano | Year Posted 2019
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Jerry Troiano Poem
Off, with all the luxury and arrogance that is man,
To a place where the sun dies beyond land’s end,
Through the foam and spray that christened you,
Yet, failed to cleanse your original sin.
And with bones of chalk and a fire within,
You held your head high for a last look at the sky,
While captains of industry and huddled masses,
Were cradled in Poseidon’s unforgiving, arms.
And a white whale, that you never pursued,
Though you were obsessed with wealth and status,
Cut deep into your ferric flesh,
To seal your fate, no doubt predestined.
And at a great depth you will lie for eternity,
Your human souls a tragedy of the highest order,
But your soul’s lust for greed and power,
Will be your everlasting legacy.
Copyright © Jerry Troiano | Year Posted 2019
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Jerry Troiano Poem
Whether expected or not it is always a shock,
When a Loved One is taken by God’s clock,
And memories quickly start to race,
To remember a place or loving embrace,
Which helps for a while but cannot replace,
A tender touch or laughing face.
But we are built with the means to survive,
A force that drives us throughout our lives,
That keeps us strong at times like these,
And will only see us on our knees,
When our eyes are closed as we pray,
For those we love who have passed away.
Now the pain will lessen but will never leave,
And in some small way we shall always grieve,
Like when a special day the calendar brings,
And we once again remember things,
Things that were so much a part of our lives,
That we will always remember till our own demise.
Copyright © Jerry Troiano | Year Posted 2019
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