War Prayer

Marine Corps War Prayer

Yea, though I walk through the alley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;
Thy rifle and thy team, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a mission before me in the presence of mine enemies;
Thou annointest my head with knowledge; My canteen runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.
For the sins committed today shall fester in the darkest reaches of my mind
till the end of my days.

Heinemann Event

I truly didn’t know what to expect when I decided to attend the Heinemann event. On one hand I figured I may enjoy it, yet I had a deep suspicion that I would regret missing class in order to attend. Like most veterans his age, Heinemann rambled on more precociously than one would imagine, yet his words seemed to be lost in translation to those unfamiliar with their true meaning. It seemed as if every question lead vicariously to the same subject over and over, even if that was not the intent of the individual whom asked the question. That subject of course being war and its constant effect on those who endured its hardships. Did the audience truly understand the ramblings of this seemingly delusional combat veteran? Sadly, I highly doubt they did. Most of the audience was probably pre-occupied with thoughts regarding the latest movie, or what they wanted to eat for lunch. Maybe I don’t give people enough credit, yet with my experience very few of them deserve the credit they already receive for putting their shoes on the correct foot. So why should this be any different.
One thing that became abundantly clear to me, was that Mr. Heinemann seemed to give two shits less if anyone actually read his book. Several times he mentioned that the sole purpose for him to get into writing was to get everything off his chest. For him to express himself through his writing instead of his actions. He didn’t care if it was marketable nor did he expect to make any money doing it and in my opinion that’s what I really enjoyed about the event. After all of these years of being out of the service, he still maintained that good ole “I don’t give a shit” attitude that keeps us going day in and day out.
One particular bit I found interesting was his views regarding war. I never thought of war as being unnecessary during my life and I doubt I ever will. However, he made some very valid points that I could not refute even if I tried. Points that were clear to me at the time, yet were foolishly ignored.

Lacking Inspiration (Free Writing)

This is not a story nor is it a poem.
I’m merely writing what comes to mind.

Lacking Inspiration

Unedited and uncensored,
I write not for the masses
but for my sins and trespasses
that cause a struggle for me
to find inspiration in my life.

The struggle to dig into my dreams
complicates an unstable mind.

So I digress,
to a simpler time
while crying a single tear
well hidden from my loving wife.

This is not the story it seems
nor is it a poem of any kind.

Why can’t I live in simple peace
and become inspired to move
on to bigger and better things
without holding this razor like knife?

The Hammer Drops

Poem was originally Published by The Barkers Voice.

Alone in a corner I sit with my gun.
The evil I fear is that from within.

In this moment I become defined

I sit in this corner holding on
to memories long forgotten.
As childhood dreams turned to passion
and my world became a towering inferno.

Thrust into hell by forces unholy
I came back forgiven
yet not released.

Forgiven by those who could not save.
Forgotten by those who could not imagine

The horrors that escalated
into a nightmare within
defined my passion
and tortured my soul.

Alone in this corner I sit with my gun,
a round in the chamber and a bottle of strife
The evil within stirs my dreams
creating a slideshow of my horrific life.

Life full of wonder and mystery
Clouded by nightmares and misery

As I contemplate the true meaning
of my desires
I bring back the hammer
and my bottle expires.


Heightened sensations -during ignition-
this hot summer night,
creates panic -like superstition-
of creatures line of sight.

Howling demons create
battle cries –from hell-
yet we debate
-of ourselves– shall we tell?

Swarming –like fireflies-
into twilight,
as crying lies
dissipate –from view-

Turning –passing sighs-
into a lonely tune,
while children hear lullabies
-of tales– that end too soon.

Love Affair

I’m cheating on you – 

I’m – sincerely – contrite
with the reasoning
behind – the vehicle –
that delivered us
into our final chapter. 

Why must we endure
this pursuit of – passion –
speed and control? 

The – never ending – rush 
– of adrenaline – continues
to cripple the foundation 
our love has built. 

Our marriage is intact
– for a moment – it seems,
as we rocket down
the quarter – another pass – 

So hold my hand – take a journey –
as seconds – in time – pass us by.
Creating – for a minute – 
a slideshow – of the world – fading away.  

Happy Pills? (Version Two)

I can never look at something and consider it finished, which drives me nuts. Therefore, I have decided to make a poll in order to see what others think. I personally think Version 2 is more fleshed out (I wrote the first one sober, I’m sorry) but that my opinion and not a very good one at that (place acronym that expresses laughter here). If you can not find the Poll, that is attached, then feel free to leave a comment.

My memories are
withered and tormented
beyond recognition.

Sleep comes in the
form of a pill,
creating the fog
over my restless mind.

My world starts fading
as my eyes become
glazed by falsified hope.

I awake in a daze.
faintly remembering
the remnants of a dream.

A man clinging to life
lingers in my mind
as I reach for a cocktail
of lies and deceit.

Life as I know it
fades as I become
“safer” for myself
and those around me.

Oh what a “happy” life I live.

Happy Pills? (Version One)

There is little hope here.
What once was full of life
has become withered, and
tormented beyond recognition.

Sleep comes to me
in the form of a pill,
which creates the fog
over my restless mind.

my life starts to fade
in and out of consciousness
as my eyes become
glazed by falsified hope.

I awake in a daze,
and unarmed of my
senses that kept me
alive for so long.

I cannot remember
the remnants of my
dreams or nightmares,
as I awake from my slumber.

So I reach for my cocktail
of early morning delight
and take them by the fistful,
which keeps my mind dull
and “safe” for those around me.

The Greatest Show on Earth?

I forgot to give a quick review of the Circus.

For starters, it is not nearly as entertaining as it was when i was a child. The stunts are performed at lower levels, the animals looks lethargic, but there beer was cold so the show went on.

One primary example would be the trapeze. The performers didn’t fly elegantly through the air just to be caught by their partner on the other side. Instead, the female performer did a couple stunts on one side of the ring and then held her arms up and waved to the audience while her male counterpart performed his stunts on the other side. Pretty lame if you ask me. However, i was on first beer so what would i know.

Another lame attempt would be those sad lethargic lions and tigers, which would typically be considered kings or queens of their designated habitats. Instead, they sit on stools as a loud obnoxious fool cracks a whip. Its not like i cant see the guys wearing black, holding pointy objects, prodding the animals when ordered to leave their stools. I was two beers in so i had my wife video tape it, in hopes that one of those large cats would rip into the “trainer.”

So will i ever bring my child to the circus? Probably not. I can get cold beer at a ton of other places.

Thank You?

Today is not the day
to thank me
because -I still stand-
as the world passes by.

I watch, as -the ignorance-
of those around me
turns to -a plague- of
misinformed individuals
whom are “thankfull.”

My head -once held high-
lowers as the reflections
-of my past- haunt
my current view
of the -dysfunctional- society
that I -must- conform to.

I question how -I should- respond
to such an innocent jester
of compassion, yet
-my disbelief- regarding
the virtue of those
whom are thanking me
clouds my judgment

-so I respond-

“Today is not my day.
It belongs to those
who sacrificed –everything-
so that we can sit here
-freely- debating how naive
our -great society- truly is.”

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