Hearken

“Abstract Soldier” by Greg Pitts

soldier hearken
give battledress ear
to indelible truths
be alive to the death
all about you hear
murmuring deep from
below troubled ground
dripping caverns that
drain blooded soil
into pools of creation
primordium fluids of
earth calling spirits
to home swirling
mortal red sacrifice
into her molten gold
core casting trophies
and armaments
medals of patriots
oaths and hard victories
up into continents
raising green mountains
and heaving blue seas
making over new life
out of death never
flagging successions her
beating heart pulsing
its wax and wane
phasing of peacetime
and war blended essence
of history annals in
broad rolling overlap
waves when the quiet
and crash of the calm
and the chaos appear
indistinguishable
and while you in your
fealty and flesh are
forever remembered
you sadly will find you
are not always honored

 

 

From my books Bullets from Bones and Legacies (vol. 1)

Counting Coup

“Counting Coup” by Donald F Montileaux

 

(Originally posted June 2013)

 
 

time was
I strode into battle
on strong stallion legs
wielding armament
forged in Vesuvius
clashing and cleaving
foes leaving them
dead to their dogs

time is
I can’t even pick up
a shovel or trashcan
weak hands and limbs
suited for versified
conflicts engaged
from recumbence
with fingertip taps

time will
tell whether honor
becomes me because or
in spite of the scarring
my enemies raised on
my body and mind
or denies to me
feather and stick

Noblesse Oblige

“Kindness” by Nasrin Barekat

a moral economy
owing to tenets of
classical chivalry
honor in kindness

fit for mature
self-secure modern
cultures an ethos
attaching fair duties
to privileged position
no matter how earned

polite ethical basis
for sharing society
healthy inclusive
responsible hearts
a virtue respectful of
common humanity

it used to be so
but alas I cannot
quite remember
just when

Hull Down

HMS Victory “Appointment with Destiny” by Paul Garnett

masted man-o-war

sails broach the

sharply drawn

sunrise horizon

too far to know

friend or foe

time to climb

to the crow’s nest

spyglass in hand

keep alert to

her movement

make ready

the gun crews

and rifled marines

place no trust

in her flag rigs

her ensign or jacks

pay no mind to her

oncoming signals

the world’s not

the same as it was

back when honor

accompanied men

into battle the

modern defender

must never forget

that a brazen deceit

and vile subterfuge

make up the tactical

black heart of terror

Seriously

“Anger”
Painting by Ingrid Morgen
From schaapcoaching.eu

when the hell did the world
become so inhospitable
what the fuck could it possibly
cost to be kind
show compassion
pay out some respect
give a shit about somebody
something or someone
who suffers beyond one’s own
self-centered shadow

where is civil behavior
toward loyal opposition
those teachable gestures
conveying polite understanding
of contrary viewpoints
what killed off the
empathic impulse
to tender regard of misfortune
who the fuck let loose
the dogs of derision and scorn

I am so God damned tired
of conflict reduced
to a mud-level meanness
a pissed-off cold cruelty
in place of plain decency
epithets hurled where
there used to be discourse
we’ve entered an age
when ad hominem vomit
is now de rigueur

not for me do I bristle and
seethe I’m retired from most
of life’s sparring arenas
but I have a passel of
grandchildren reared
to embrace reverent ethics
of honor and dignity
oh how I pray they were
not ill-prepared for
this vicious new world

(dear reader – excuse my language – it’s not at all my habit – I just couldn’t help myself)

Time of Oaths

“Washington Taking the Oath of Office”
Painting by Ezra Augustus Winter
From firstinpeace.org

by cold custom
is January witness
to solemn sworn oaths
bloodless transfers of power
civic rituals tending
the progress of centuries
rule of law sovereign
men its mere instruments
given in trust to authority
peaceful conveyance
exchanged for their
promise to duty
pray God
they remember
their honor

Decoration Day Thoughts

Antique Note Card
From vintageglorycards.com

(I grew up knowing it as Decoration Day. Today it is called Memorial Day.)

(To America’s three million uniformed soldiers and sailors, flyers and marines, – dead, wounded and missing – the casualties of our seventy-five wars and armed clashes since the American Revolution)

gather my gratitude unto your graves
anoint your mean scars with my tears
feel my arms round your still homeless
ghosts I am here thanks to you with no
gifts but my words all my tribute exists
in compassion that weighs on my heart
you are sacrifice given to direst of duty
you answered the call with the courage
of flesh and blood placed in harm’s way
in defense of your flag faith and family
know I am your son holding dearly your
legacy filled with the freedom of grief

A Regrettably Familiar Type

Still Photo of “The Sopranos” TV Show
Photo from amazon.com

flashing brawn in Italian silk fawn
deliberate imprinted bulge
thumbs hooked around throats
feeding Main Street ambitions
skim-sliced for protection
while white endless flows of diverse
smuggled powders and flammable rocks
writhe rife with euphoria
catering gamut of vices
afflicting this affluent culture

hand-sewn feet dance down dark alleys
where vengeance plays rhapsodies
black bloody operas with twisted
librettos of grave ancient honor
born hidden within Giuliano’s warm hills
but hammered and bent under
heat of an emigrant sun
upon anvil-hard scarps of
crude murdering thieves

these impulses came here on boats
in suave well-barbered mustaches
veiling the lips of Omertà
to settle and strangle American cities
with shadows that overcast
innocent immigrants faithful
to God and the ethic of bootstraps
who earnestly struggled to
disown opprobrium
drawn by those deadly intent upon
making their bones
in the underworld belly
of seething iniquity

 

(My beloved, hard working, honest and dignified Italian parents lived their entire lives in determined opposition to the unfortunate celebrity of such characters in our local community.)

Remembrance

Photo from greensleeves.typepad.com

 
dusk strolls forward
from under the treeline
across the town green
stirring fireflies
skittering up from the grass
pulsing flickers like quick-stitches
tacking the chaotic drape
of the night to the scene
veiling cannon and names
of dead soldiers on plaques
fixed to monolith stones
bringing sleep to the pride
of un-uniformed strangers
whose flowers and flaglets
pay too-easy gratitude
misunderstanding
the essence of honor
forgetting the duty
imposed on the living
to cherish the values
that animate sacrifice
will morning remember?

Duel

Photo from whatsupyasieve.com

morning gives warning

high noon will come soon

the gunfighters’ hour

that shadowless moment

when overhead light

denies unfair advantage

leaving salient factors

of how quick you draw

and how well you shoot

or most crucial of all

is the fight really worth it

to settle your hash