Army Poet

Poem for Today

2012-02-04T15:35:00.003Z

So Long

Looking for sustenance,
Opening the doors of empty cupboards,
No longer knowing what I need,
Trying to fill the hollowness.

The feeling of pebbles, shiny,
Glittering, they roll over me,
Not hurting, but aching,
As if it is chronic,
And there will be no end.

Without love for so long,
I still miss the particular,
The taste and crunch of being in your days,
Thoughts consume me and I stay hungry.

Jan/Feb 2011

Poem for Today

2012-01-30T16:27:00.000Z

Hungry

After being hungry for so long,
One doesn't miss any particular type of food anymore.
No more caring for bright, tangy berries,
No remembering the totally surrounding smell,
Of grilled meat in late evenings,
Not even the heavily crusted French bread,
Or the dry bite of red wine.

It's only you I crave,
Tasteless like color,
My closed eyes try to remember, but it's not there.

Jan/Feb 2011

All Creatures...

2012-01-26T16:27:00.001Z

This morning I went to the airfield to pick up a colleague. While I was waiting in the cool morning, I heard the familiar but always pleasing sound of my friends the sparrows. Small groups of them were nestled in the top of the metal prefab building, and in the rolled up windows of tents. Many of them were paired up in couples. The males have a darker head, and a patch of black under the little beak. The females are a dull tan color, and a tiny bit slimmer.

They cruise and flutter and spin in the air. It seems more like a liquid to them; that is how easily they move in it. No matter what happens, I hope I will always feel a delight and pleasure and joy in seeing and hearing them. It is as if they are my family, and sometimes I can feel close to them. Of course, to them I am just another silly human to aim poop at. Still, I look on them from afar and smile.

Later...This evening I went for a meal in the dining facility and noticed a small black cat. It looked like a youngster and I had seen it before a few weeks ago. It was crouched under a mailbox - secure in the shadows. Feeding or keeping animals is prohibited. However, as soon as the small creature saw me it came out immediately! It came close to my legs, and wanted to seek contact. I would have petted it, and dearly wanted to caress its little elegant face with my fingers. Yet, I did not want to draw attention to myself or the cat. I backed away, but when I came out later, I had a small plate of tuna which I placed on the ground for it. I did so while no one was looking, and then I quietly slinked away.
I looked back to see it engrossed in eating, and I felt that I had at least done some good for today.

Poem for Today

2012-01-02T18:20:00.005Z

Different Now

Winter's mask is hung on the trees,
As the sun goes early.
The greens turning to infinite blacks,
With the soaking damp night,
Coming through my pockets quickly,
Rippling cold onto my skin.

Being lost in the forest,
Comes with a terror that life is all over,
And then a resigned heart,
Meeting its end,
Stumbling forever, without sustenance.

Then a sudden flicker, just once and very quick.
So that I am not sure of the light.
I drift closer, too afraid to hope,
But there is a gleam, dull as phosphor.

The void of the trees opens,
So that there you are.
With the candle showing your smile,
And the wisdom in your eyes.

Your face comes close,
And I am safe.

Jan 2012

Poem for Today

2011-12-03T09:53:00.002Z

Content

Pulse of breathing,
Pushing your chest against my back,
Bumping me,
Like the slow thud of the bedside clock.

A million dreams tumble in you,
Swirling under your tresses,
Splayed over the pillows and my neck.

A sigh comes with a flicker of your limbs,
You seem content,
Untouched, enthralled, but at peace.

Alive and not,
Your breath warms my neck.
I only want to make your waking days,
As beautiful as your sleep.

November 2011

Poem for Today

2011-11-15T18:50:00.002Z

For Life

You think I need you,
But just for the moment,
For this right-now want.

But my desire for you is in every moment,
In every drip, in this measured flow of time.

Join me in this dance,
Across the slippery globe,
Spinning ourselves around each other,
Because I'll be here for life.

Nov. 2011

Poem for Today

2011-11-13T19:35:00.000Z

Catch

Tryingto win you.

Isaw a child’s hand,

Openingand closing in a slanting beam of sun,

Cuttingacross its play-pen world.

Shetried to capture the hope of light,

Ina small and fat fist.

Feelingthe warmth of yellow on flesh,

Fingersfolding tight,

Shesnatches her hand to her face,

Butshe sits in the shade,

Andthe light is gone.

Sept/Oct2011

Poem for Today

2011-11-06T13:08:00.000Z

Still

Pausing,waiting, stopping,

Holding all time for your love,
I don’t remember why I wait.
ButI have also forgotten anything else.

Tryingto gather the webs of your life into my arms,

It’smuch harder than even calling the sparrows to my side.

Sept/Oct 2011

Poem for Today

2011-10-30T18:34:00.001Z

Light
Inthis land,
Obliterated with light,
So bright and numbing and pure,

Feelinglike sound,

Destructivewith its vibration,
Shakingthe strips of my bones.

In this place,

Shegives me colors,
White,searing, sizzling.
A flashof burning joy when we love,
Black,never ending abyss when she leaves.

That iswhat stays with me.
The openingof a shaft,
Cutinto the earth,
Whoseend is dizzy-deep.

I can seeit at night, because the entrance is darker,

That’swhat makes it stand out.

Shecolors my life.
All theshades,
Nowthey are mixed,
Scrambled,and dry-cracked in the sun,
Like myold paintbox.

Sept 2011

Poem for Today

2011-10-24T19:07:00.009+01:00

Cities

In beautiful hotels,

In maddening and difficult cities,

Plump with anger and wealth.

In the pine forests, damp-cool andfree,

Under a swirling night,

Of lights and dust and voices,

Far away, but right here around me.

In all this space,

And flow of time,

I walk in a small wire cage.

With nothing to witness me,

Without the joy of someone’s pride,

With no reasons.

This is being without love.

Sept/Oct 2011

Poem for Today

2011-10-21T09:05:00.003+01:00

Knowing You

I don't know what you are,
Only that you are one woman,
And the destiny of the world is in your hands,
And that touching your mouth makes me alive.

Oct. 2011

2011-10-21T08:57:00.000+01:00

View My Milblogging.com Profile

Poem for Today

2011-10-16T08:17:00.001+01:00

Ache

Theloneliness is like a toothache,

But it dragsmy whole body,

Into itsturquoise-bright, world of pain,

Diffuse,every inch of my dry skin istouched.

But, fromtime to time,

It becomesfocused,

On her face.

Running theloops of memory in my head.

It’s all partof a bigger disease,

And though Ifeel the blood,

And lifeleave my body, as I wish for her,

It just makesme feel hopeless,

Withoutthe solace of unconsciousness.

Streets

2011-09-26T23:23:00.000+01:00

Walking the streets in this mad city.
At least the evenings are cooler here.

I trundle along, feeding the strays.
Lots of fuzzy young kittens. All of them are very skittish, but they usually give me a bewildered, but challenging and bold look before they bound off. I left food for many of them, but I was only able to get one cat to come to me. She was a tortoiseshell. Her face was perfectly divided right along her nose into a tabby pale orange and a brownish flecked chocolate. She was a tiny creature with protruding hip bones. She was the only vocal cat I encountered, and gave me a chirpy meow.

So, in my whole life, I was meant to be at this one place, at that time, to give food to this animal...If that was my purpose than it was worth it.

Poem for Today

2011-09-23T17:11:00.002+01:00

Light

Inthis land,
Obliterated with light,
So bright and numbing and pure,

Feelinglike sound,

Destructivewith its vibration,

Shakingthe strips of my bones.

In this place,

Shegives me colors,

White,searing, sizzling.

A flashof burning joy when we love...

Black,never ending abyss when she leaves.

That iswhat stays with me.

Openingof a shaft, cut into the earth,

Whoseend is dizzy-deep.

I feel it at night, becuase the entrance is even darker,

That’swhat makes it stand out.

Shecolors my life.

Now all theshades,

They are mixed,

Scrambled,and dry cracked in the sun,

Like myold paintbox.

Sept 2011

Poem for Today

2011-09-19T19:16:00.007+01:00

Stars

I think of ice-cold perfume,

Tapping on the warmth of your skin.

How the vapor pours off you...

Changed, like a blend of your body and its essence.

The aroma seems like a mist of gold,
So dense,

And I fall.

Drunk and blind,

Enrobed in the stars of your champagne-filled mouth.

Sept 2011

Poem for Today

2011-08-31T21:18:00.007+01:00

Thief

Are you a gambler?

Wagering on this life,

Trading your days,

For love and friends.

Did you think you must be alone?

Nothing needing you?

You believed it so much, you made ityour truth.

Or is some old scar,

Still teasing you with its gentleache?

Are you a thief?

Collecting memories for yourself,

Making them from others’ limbs andthoughts,

Then stealing them,

Leaving empty houses.

We are waiting for a card to turn,

As I play this game with you,

But I don’t even know the rules,

And I knew - I would always lose,

In your goodbyes.

Aug 2011

Poem for Today

2011-08-24T18:13:00.003+01:00

Taste

Melting quick, like chocolate in summer,
Smeared on hands, enrobed in sweat,
Sticky, sweet and salty,
It becomes like glue, cloying me.

Blending into a nothing shape,
I feel the life go out of me,

A dissolving sticky mass,

The taste is still there, but it is blurred.

Everything I have for you stains my hands and clothes,
My mind is discolored, permanently tinted,

It can't be rubbed off,

It's not so sweet when I taste my fingers.

July 2011

Dog Story

2011-06-29T17:36:00.000+01:00

I think that the experiences I have here are not special, but because of the situation, environment and the way I feel, things seem more poignant...

Yesterday, I was loading or unloading (can’t remember which, and perhaps I was doing both things simultaneously) our vehicle. The day consisted of the same evening haze of heat, and the horizon and sky merged into one as a type of pearlesence (like on the inside of an oyster shell). The blending of sky and sand is not distinct but fuzzy, like a vast smear because of the dust in the air.

Suddenly, I felt something, like a presence... (It is that feeling you get when you feel you are being stared at.) I felt it below my line of vision, and instantly I thought of a serpent at my feet and how I would drop my load of supplies onto it and step back.) Of course all this thought happens in a flash...

I looked down fearfully, pretending to be bold...At my knees was a small and emaciated creature. Dirty grey-white... It was like a small greyhound. It had a lean and noble head, clear gaze, with ribs and spine showing through its short grizzled coat. It was not aggressive, but merely stood there looking into the vehicle like it wanted to go for a ride...In the past I have trapped such animals on other bases and assisted in killing them. Of course, that was not something that could be done now...Yet, what could I offer it? I could I help it?

I found one of those single serving cereal containers and offered it. She wasn't interested...at first...But eventually she came around to gobbling up the little dense rings of "O" shaped wheat and corn...Yet, I had no water for it...I offered only my voice for comfort, and that has never helped anyone...I think I sought to comfort myself more by speaking to it gently and quietly. As if I was addressing myself...As if it was my soul there in that animal, emaciated; padding around the desert desperately looking for water or food.

By our accidental presence at a certain time and place, perhaps we happen to be at the right place and time to help someone. But only if we look to do so...

I heard that if a man needs help, it will come to him....Perhaps...

Poem for Today...

2011-06-18T23:07:00.002+01:00

Child and Father

Being a boy once - my father took me to a park,
It is years ago now,
So, I don't even remember how much is true,
Or which part is just fond wishing of a memory I want.

It was a weekday afternoon, and must have been summer.
Tunnels of ancient live oaks resist the sun at the playground.

I tried the cracked wooden planks of swings,
Red flakes of paint, sharp on the dry white wood,
Creaking roundabouts and shiny dented tongues of slides,
Claimed my limbs.

He would join my games,
This father person who I knew only a little,
Perhaps mainly by obligation.

But he would only try things briefly,
Initially joyful, his face would always fade,
Like water emptying from a hole in his heart.

I see him now, sitting large on a child's bench,
Looking off into distance. Quiet.

It's so long ago now,
It took me all this time to realize...
That he was with me because he had no work.
His time with his son,
For him, it was confirmation of his responsibilities,
And that he was not meeting them.

With my chubby hands I remember holding his palms,
Trying to cheer him,
Not knowing of the adult ways to come,
Thinking that if we laughed more, or I tried harder,
Maybe he would be happy too.

It is only now that I really feel his pain.
It comes from understanding.

A little piece of my parent's struggle becomes clearer to me,
As I try to hang on.

July 2010 and June 2011

Poem for Today

2011-04-11T18:18:00.002+01:00

Believe Me

Believe me,
That when you are alone,
And careening and bouncing near the edges,
Sliding on ice towards the hard stop,
Then. - Even the birds are your friends.

The little ones I mean.
The chirping brown sparrows,
Also, the dopey dragonflys,
And the flirtful and purposeful bees,
Of course, the bumbly, and big furry ones, too.

They become your everything.
Seeming divine to you,
You wonder how to worship them,
Begging for the solace of their quick glance,
Or accidental pause.

But, it is only in their indifference,
That they offer comfort.
It is then that you remember that you are nothing.

Jan and Feb 2011

Poem for Today

2011-04-11T17:57:00.006+01:00

Power of Give and Take Away

Claim me with your eyes,
Needing your voice in the dark.

But you don't realize,
How your calls drive me to you,
Making my mind crawl over thorns and rocks,
Bringing me to you,
Dragging my limbs,
To the only tree in this white desert.

I used to think that your power was over me,
Now I know that you punish yourself too.

By hurting me,
You need the edges to push away your pain,
Just as much as I do.

Jan 2011

Poem for Today

2011-04-07T06:33:00.005+01:00

Pain

I seek for immediate pain,

To drive you from me,

The cutting weight on my shoulders,

The straps,

The bumping of nylon and alloy,

Never quite getting the load on my back comfortable.

But it always ends,

After moments, or hours,

There only remains that dragging fatigue,

A sort of soft and bitter taste. Lingering.

Flavoring my thoughts like the bitter rind of pistachios.

The tiredness keeps you away,

But it is also temporary.

March 2011

Poem for Today

2011-04-01T19:33:00.003+01:00

I saw a small Bedouin girl playing in the ruins near here a few weeks ago...

Child

Desert dry hair,

Blown and twisted with sand and dry sun,

Carved into light and dark.

Playing in Roman ruins,

Ancient dust of heroes,

It's all over your tiny brown feet.

With open eyes, light and quick-gleaming,

Sparkling, even though there is nothing in your hands,

Nothing in your belly,

You roll in the grass.

With this nothing, you have captured me.

The wildness of your play,

Spiralling through the old broken columns.

You're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,

And I ache for my lover to join me,

So we can make another like you.

march 2011

Poem for Today

2011-01-26T14:58:00.001Z

Walks

The man with no homeland walks,
Always moving,
Sometimes I call it traveling.

Trying to be part of something,
Each town - I want to make it mine,
A place where I have memory or family, Or a lover.
Each country, I beg it to be mine, to claim me,
To wrap me tight in its flags,
So I can cheer and sing its songs.

But there is always some difference,
And I can't feel part of anything,
Sometimes it's the way the light shines on my shell,
That makes me separate,
Or that I have no history there,
Or no person.

But I share its peoples' life, this same air, and dirt,
It drapes over my shoes.
Something keeps me apart,
So I keep walking, looking.

Jan 2011

birds

2011-01-25T18:41:00.000Z

I like birds, especially owls!

In the morning I see little sparrows carving quick low arcs over the dirt. They seems so playful! Like naughty little imps. They curl and weave, and contrast with the dark majesty of the hawks and eagles.

I like them, they are playful and mischievous little imps! Quick and active and very charming. Not unlike yourself...

I give them little pieces of cracker that they peck at with tiny little beaks. Brightly chirping at me and blinking with bright eyes. They seem insolent and yet kind.

All Seems Good...

2011-01-08T19:55:00.000Z

A hot shower and decent meal and all seems right with the world! I really have it good in my little space! The chance to sit quietly, and have a cup of coffee or tea...paradise.

Nope, never had it so good!

Poem for Today

2011-01-01T20:53:00.000Z

Beautiful Disaster

You see yourself as broken,
Damaged.

Unique in your total grief,
Some mottled and cracked leaf,
Wasted after Autumn,
Spun out on the cold breeze,
Drifting alone.

The beautiful disaster that you think you are,
It's not just you...
But what you do to me.

You are different, - and not.
Just like me,
Perfectly imperfect,
I love your madness.

Stay like you are,
And let us live this out together.

01 Jan 2011

MRE and Me...

2011-01-01T20:29:00.000Z

Dust hangs low today...It is very fine, it is barely noticeable, but the skin feels like it is covered with a fine talc. It is almost like graphite as it seems to have that kind of feel. However, I am sure it is more corrosive.

New Years day, and I wonder what this year will bring. Although, seem to not want to think about it too much.

I think the diet versions of Pepsi and Coke seem to be better overseas...Less carbonated.

Today someone said that they hoped all my dreams came true... I am not sure what the hell that meant? It seems so strange to hear something like that. I couldn't take it in any meaningful sense. I don;t even have any "dreams". Just contentment is all I want.

11.11.11

2010-11-11T02:20:00.000Z

In Europe it is "Remembrance Day" already, for us in the USA it is Veterans day, but the date is the same..Somehow, the celebrations in Europe are more somber...Not so much a day for sales and BBQs, but really a remembrance day with speeches and quiet memorials. Each country commemorates its war dead in its own way. The picture is of a German military cemetery near Heidelberg.

Poem for Today

2010-08-22T21:20:00.000+01:00

Not Better

A beautiful child,

Dancing in the sun,

Golden and fawn hair,

Alternating as she spins,

Moving and jumping to a musician.

I saw her on a summer walk,

In a city park –

It was years ago.

She started clapping, and laughing,

Tiny clumps of hands patting together.

Her parents stood behind,

Watching her, but seeing something different,

They were embracing.

It was a scene of so much love,

Like being washed in warm suds,

Full of safety, or something like contentment.

Whatever it was,

I wanted that feeling,

I remember suddenly feeling very bad,

Getting mad thoughts –

Thinking I had nothing .

Nothing that could make me as happy as they were.

All the money I’ve made since then,

It doesn’t make me feel better.

August 2010

Beaurocracy

2010-07-20T20:41:00.000+01:00

I feel disowned by the service sometimes...The rules made at one level may have drastic consequences for those lower down the totem pole...

In the Horatio Hornblower stories, about a heroic sailor in the British Navy, he serves his country diligently, at risk of life and limb. But when he returns from duty he is cast aside, and made to wait for months and months on end for his next assignment on half pay...I feel like this sometimes...Although I do not have the heroic litany of deeds behind me...

Just that the wt. of administration is a faceless, unsensing mask, saying things like "Your message is important to us.."

July 2010

Poem for Today

2010-06-16T13:49:00.000+01:00

Walls

I try to think of nothing,
I am desperate to make the days pass quickly,
But for no reason,
I want each day to race to its end,
In a hurry to get somewhere that I don't know.

Feeling that life is sucked out of me,
Empty hard plastic walls,
Like a used syringe,
Graduated, dry and hollow.

Full of something useful once,
But for one time use only.

June 2010

Simple Things...

2010-05-19T20:42:00.000+01:00

Had a visit from a friend over the weekend. It was nice to walk the streets with him. Just chatting and stopping off for a drink. We ate and talked. I made him a cup of coffee in my small rooms and just the act of preparing a simple snack for someone...I felt a goodness and delight in it.

Many of us are disconnected geographically from family, and it is the other people that we come to know that sort of become like a family. We cross tracks with people, sometimes temporarily...But we have to keep ourselves open to meeting others and learning from each person.

Poem for Today

2010-05-04T19:25:00.000+01:00

Learn

All this teaching,
I sat there listening for years,
And I have learned nothing...

I can't help my grief,
Or help my lover.

I share her pain,
But she is alone,
And she puts me outside her world.

May 2010

Saint-Avold, France

2010-04-25T21:34:00.000+01:00

Saint-Avold, France. The last Sunday in April in France is the "The national day of the deportation." It honors the memory of those sent forcibly from France to Nazi concentration, work or extermination camps.

The town was out in force, and there were events and marches and everyone was enjoying the great weather!

On a more somber note...the American Cemetery at Saint-Avold is silent and beautiful in the sunshine. Only the dull flapping of the flags can be heard.

Cats in the Sun

2010-04-24T08:35:00.001+01:00

I walked down to our small village yesterday evening , and although the sun was bright, my spirits were low.
We have lots of stray cats around the local farms, but I think they are not really strays, as they seem well fed though skittish. As I wandered about, I spotted a young black cat rolling in the grass and dirt. He was wallowing in the dust, and seemed very content... I took a knee and made myself smaller. Then I tried to beckon him to me with quiet words. But he was content in his own life and kept rolling to and fro. His large sweet eyes gazing at me.

I felt quite awful, and large tears fell from my eyes. I was wearing sunglasses and was alone, so was not embarrassed. Anyway, I didn't care...I think I wept for so so many things. Selfish things mainly.

The cat perked up, and wandered off into a driveway. His coat gleamed and shone in the bright sun. Only absolute black could look so bright...

I moved on too. Nothing to do but keep walking on.

Poem for Today

2010-04-18T07:12:00.000+01:00

Selfish...

My friend grieves,
I do too.

Angry at her reasons for loss,
Frustrated and confused,
Like mashed up newspapers,
Wet with sour rain,
Impossible to untangle.

I hate the thing that makes her sad,
Her impending loss...
It draws her from me,
Making me crushed and hollow,
Feeling like a thrown away thermos.

And then: the worst feeling...is that I hate to feel that way,
I should be a better comfort...

I grieve with her,
for the same, and other reasons.

April 2010

Poem for Today

2010-04-14T23:00:00.000+01:00

Everything

Be my everything,
My lover,
My closest friend,
My dearest sibling.

Be someone for me to love,
Someone I won't be afraid of calling,
Someone who won't hurt me.
Someone whose arms fold into mine.

I can beg you,
Pay you,
Worship you,
Support you...

Even if you can't love me enough,
Claim me,
Make me your toy,
Just need me sometimes.

April 2010

Poem for Today

2010-04-13T20:00:00.001+01:00

Workingman’s Daughter

Your parent’s efforts are in your eyes,

Sculpted into your professional hands,

Written into the way you smile gently.

Their love and care made you,

I feel you bringing that to me.

What sort of love did they share?

How did they stay as one?

I see their joy,

Lines of knowledge carved in their faces,

Slowly wondering if I can make that life,

Share that with you.

Your have their honesty,

Their deep secrets,

Their simple goodness…

But our times are different,

We struggle within ourselves,

Making love difficult…

One time, we traveled together to a cemetery,

I saw you touch the gravestone of a dead man,

An unknown Soldier in that place,

You were sad, but wanted to share your heart.

Your parents made you beautiful.

What We All Want...

2010-04-09T12:03:00.000+01:00

Today is sunny.

But I woke up with the most empty and alone feeling...It was not a nothingness or emptiness, because I don't think that hurts as much. I could not get up, did not want to face anything, yet felt miserable looking out at the empty branches against the white sky.

Quite awful. Better now, but perhaps it was traveling preparations...

Seems we all want to love and be loved; to give consolation and receive it. But the people who need and want to give are disconnected.... Wandering in some wild forest which is filled with thorns and dense vines. How can we not all connect...?

I saw a girl's hand yesterday. She was holding a napkin at a restaurant I was in. Her hand had some faint scrapes on it. It was not adorned with painted nails, rings or overwrought delicacy... But it was lovely.

I wished she could have touched my face.

Poem for Today

2010-03-29T19:05:00.000+01:00

Evidence

For all these years,

Did I love someone I did not know?

I won’t believe it...

I can’t make myself accept that.

She made tiny gentle cries of love in my arms,

Gasping, drenched in cold sweat...

I left the evidence of my passion in her clothing.

She showed me…

It must have been true.

I can’t accept what she says now.

March 2010

Not Well...

2010-03-28T16:33:00.000+01:00

l don't feel good...I think I must get over this again. I am tired of hurt.

If I was religious would the divine he/she help me?
But then why did they cause this pain?

Yes, I blame something or someone else for my hurt. I should take responsibility for my own pain...But it is still pain.

Loneliness of the Runner

2010-03-22T19:55:00.000Z

I was running in the German countryside today. Winding my way over windswept, rolling green fields, passing by huge shaggy cows who balefully peer at me.
The wind turbines were silently turning on the tops of the hills.
It was lunch time and the narrow lanes were deserted...

The cattle here are big and shaggy brown. They stand or doze listlessly on the sloped fields. Indolent, yet with some form of wisdom behind their deep dark eyes.They ignore me as I run by, but I feel they are my friends. They know I will not hurt them...

The wind turbines swing their huge arms above me, and I sometimes feel that they are waving to me.
Running in and out of tiny villages, I kept on and on. An old man wished me good day. Stout and stocky limbed farm cats sunned themselves on the road side... Everything seemed alive. Tiny spring flowers push their first shoots up through the dark soil. They make faint vertical clumps of purple and white against the black earth.

I want to say something, but can't quite get it right. I do fear being alone, but feel love in my heart.

Poem for Today

2010-03-06T15:30:00.000Z

Possess

I want to own you,
Capture and enrobe you,
Drive you to stay with me,
Compel your love.

But it can't be.
You've got to come on your own,
Padding towards me,
On your delicious and soft feet,
Come to me.

In wanting to possess you,
I seek my own submission,
I want to belong to you too,
Hoping I can be trapped and kept,
Close to you - like the keys around your neck.

Lock me up,
Don't let me go.

March 2010

Poem for Today

2010-03-02T19:13:00.000Z

Made Into Your Toy

Mechanical toys,
Cheapest of thin metals,
Primitive and repetitive.

They wind themselves down,
On rubber wheels,
Rolling and swaying on my tabletop.

A small tin monkey beats his drum,
Marching steadily to the end of the table,
Waiting to go over the end.
He must be in love too.

Dec 2009

Tea...Rain and Clouds

2010-02-17T16:05:00.000Z

It's the simple pleasures I miss most when away, so I try to replicate them wherever I am.

For instance, the weather is damp and cold, with a constant drizzle. But after walking in it, I feel like I have accomplished something: almost like I finished a mini-expedition somewhere.

When I get back to my room I grab my small electric kettle and in a few moments get a "brew-up" and am settling down with a hot mug of tea. Life looks good...The high-fiber fudge pop-tarts are not bad either.

Snow...

2010-02-11T20:24:00.000Z

Cloudy days, constant snow. Had a few hours of glistening sunshine yesterday though. There was also a lessening in the snow. It started coming down as a very fine dust. In the sun it sparkled, and charmed me.

In the last month I have been in 2 accidents, (I was not the driver in either), and one awful near miss. Two of these events involved snow, and I find myself pretty sensitized to driving in it.
During the two events in the snow -which involved skids- time was drawn out and the awful feeling / calmness of not being able to do anything enveloped me. Don't want to be there again, so I am riding the train tomorrow. Hoping for a break in the weather this weekend...

Poem for Today

2010-02-04T21:49:00.000Z

Spent some time with my parents last month...They seem older and more frail...Thought of this poem.

Gray

The sky over my parents house is blank,
Gleaming pale,
Like a vast fluorescent bulb.
With the air heavy and moist,
I wonder what solace I can bring.

In two years they have aged ,
and I forget that I have too.
With all my losses and gains,
My sicknesses of heart
and traveling for love,
Of losing and finding it, and fearing it.

The folks remain simple - older, scruffy,
and sometimes smaller.

So, I don't mention my sorrows,
I tend them.
But I feel alone too.

January 2010

Poem for Today

2010-01-11T15:18:00.000Z

Finished...

In this short life of meetings,
With the coming,

And then the always going of travel,
Among restless and teasing wanderings,

We embrace.

It is you that always separates first,

Your eyes swing away,

Gazing behind me quietly.

It is your kiss that stops first,

The small tension,

Flickering in your arms,

It tells me you are finished.

So, after the flow of all this life,

After all the things I have done and seen,

I fear nothing,

Except -

Near the end of each day,

Then I begin to think,

Everything may be ended by your words.

December 2009

Back in the USA

2010-01-09T18:43:00.000Z

Back in the good old homeland!

Cold, and a bit tired on my arrival. Will be doing some traveling here, and will give my impressions as I perambulate across the USA.

When I was in the immigration hall at the airport a small altercation broke out between an older man and a younger one and his family. It resulted in the older man being pushed to the ground...It was all a very bizarre sight...Strange thing to see on my arrival back, and not even 10 minutes on US soil. I found the event disturbing...partly because it resulted from a sad misunderstanding, and also because it involved people of different races, and ages.

I do feel that in the USA we sometimes take things, (such as presumed slights) too personally. I see this even when I drive on the highways in the USA.... Things seem to come down to a "me vs. you" zero-sum game.
I see this also in the false divisions among our people that the talk show pundits attempt to create.

We are more alike in our country than different. I have felt that in the service. But, sometimes,the USA definitely seems more hostile than being on a deployment.

Poem for Today

2010-01-01T11:12:00.000Z

Hurt

I think of the scar on your wrist,

How you quietly hide it sometimes.

It’s an old injury,

Floating like a soft island on the smoothness of your skin.

Sometimes I try to take in my lips,

Encompassing it and making it mine,

Wishing I could be your balm.

But that is only the hurt I can see.

I am lost in describing you,

I think about the other scars you have,

The ones I will never know.

Nature of Friendship

2009-12-31T07:18:00.000Z

I dropped a friend off at the train station this morning. It was my pleasure to do so, and I felt glad to help him. He was leaving for a short trip over New Years, but seemed ambivalent to go.

In this wide world, with people being widely dispersed from family, our friends become a new surrogate family. Holidays with them become a shared time that reminds me of the many times I have worked on Christmas or Thanksgiving... One may not be at the workplace with family, but there is a feeling of shared camaraderie and closeness. Perhaps this is something that comes from being overseas too.

Anyway, I am glad to be useful.

Poem for Today

2009-12-26T13:50:00.000Z

Playing

Play me like your red tinged scarf,

Twirling in the sticks of your fingers,

Insensate.

But I am not,

And you hurt me.

Remembering Last Year...

2009-11-20T17:56:00.000Z

I have been thinking a lot about this same day last year...I do remember some events of the day. I remember the damp coolness of the morning and the whiteness of sky and earth...
I think I may even have pondered where I would be a year hence...and here I am...

I remember riding in a helicopter and looking out at the desert, with the wind blowing hard; and I remember spending time in a small wood-paneled library reading. Waiting.

As time moves we seem to only mark it by its passage. We are always behind any instant that has occurred.
The flow of time does seem like a bright glistening stream; we may dip our hand in to stem its flow, but the water passes us by, only chilling our hands.

Poem for Today

2009-11-17T20:59:00.000Z

Perfection

Loving someone-
It makes me want to achieve goodness,
It drives me to be like a child,
Eager to share everything I have,
But then becoming afraid for doing so.

I want to be so perfect for her,
But even that won't make her stay.

November 2009

6 British Films I like

2009-11-12T20:48:00.000Z

In no order...just came to mind as I was watching number 1.

1. The 39 Steps

2. The Killing Fields

3. The Spy Who Came in from the Cold

4. This Sporting Life

5. The Remains of the Day

Real Food...

2009-11-08T19:17:00.000Z

I had an orange to eat today, but not the cosmetically perfect oranges that we get in the larger grocery stores...These were thick skinned, with a coarse pebble rind. They were partially tinged with a vivid green like spilled absinthe.

Thin and woody stems were attached to the oranges, and the fruit reminded me in some way of naughty children...full of promise, but unkempt and a little rascally.

The fruit was delicious and tasted alive. Perhaps it is just that the fruit seemed - visually - on the fringes of respectability, and that made me enjoy it more.

Finding a cure...

2009-10-24T19:20:00.000+01:00

Trying to find a cure for not missing someone...

I walk in the cool grey with the drizzle coming down... Definitely could be colder though, because I am not even shivering. The world is damp green, and mud brown. The sky seems bored and is the color of an over-washed white t-shirt.
In the sun, it would all seem verdant.

The leaves are mashed into the ground and are forming sort of a murky yellow carpet of slush. There is some faint color though. Some sort of strange red berries are all over the ground. They are small, but are a glistening hard scarlet against the mud.

What does missing someone feel like? It seems like a loss; a sense of grief... But if you feel the other person may be thinking of you also, then there is a sweetness there too...A lingering pleasant taste, like the kind you get from the cheap spice cake that they sell here.
It almost feels like there is something to come home too...A warmth - a joy underneath the fabric of sadness that makes it bearable...

Too many words here, and I feel that no description is good enough for any human emotion.

Poem for Today...

2009-10-22T21:17:00.000+01:00

Wanting...

In wanting you this way,
In having acquisition,
Possessing and keeping,
Even with squashing you tight in my hand,
I still don't know what I need.

Maybe, it's the moist beat of your heart,
Your own desire,
That makes me gasp silently.

In wanting to understand it all,
I try not to think too much,
Or to hold you too close.

Squalor

2009-10-14T17:30:00.000+01:00

I have been living mainly in one room (not one bedroom, just one room), shared bathroom accomodations for about 21 months now. I am pretty content... I have had some breaks in between too, perhaps that is why I am pretty much ok with it.

However, one problem with living this way is keeping track of documents and paperwork..."Where did I put that gasoline ration coupon ?" etc. This means that I am often digging through assorted items of junk to look for something. My place is too small to have an effective filing system, or cabinets etc. Sometimes, I do get frustrated with sorting through all the trash of my transient life...e.g. receipts, notes, folders, plastic bags filled with paperwork.

I am leery to throw away stuff I might need, and only recently started drinking out of regular glasses...Have been, and still often do, use small jelly jars for beverages (perfect size and shape for one's hand.)

Sometimes I feel like I am living in squalor, and get fed up...I leave my uniform on the floor...I'll have to wear it in a few hours anyway, and grow insipid and callous.

The Meaning of Belonging...

2009-09-30T21:40:00.000+01:00

I mailed my passport application off today and I considered, not for the first time, what is the meaning of belonging to a particular country or region, and how is that defined in a time of constant movement.

We are still encumbered with ideas that race is tied to a particular place, but this is deceptive. In the same way perhaps that we may assume a certain religious conviction to be associated with a place. These concepts maybe ingrained, but I find that they are no longer valid, (if they ever were).

Without my passport perhaps I feel a little stateless. Yet is it just an engraved document that defines our loyalties? Isn't there something more that claims us? What claims can nations make upon our citizenship? Should we forced to choose one nation over another? How about one region within a country? Of course, a person may also have a close bond to one place via birth, another via marriage and another by preference, all at different times of life.

With people meeting and traveling and living across boundaries, what does it mean to be from " x-land" or "y- stan."

August Turns to September

2009-09-14T21:31:00.000+01:00

A friend of mine told me recently that the transition from August to September seems too abrupt/too drastic to just be the turn of another day. Perhaps, it is as if we suddenly realize we will lose the balmy lazy days of summer which will soon be replaced by the first brisk days of autumn. It seems as if this is a change year that should be marked by a new season or holiday. I agree.

The change does seem abrupt, and I feel I am almost caught out a little by the change of months... I guess September is a month to return to school, to end summer holidays etc.

It is cold and wet today. Wishing I had a bit of someones company.

UP and DOWN

2009-09-12T15:04:00.001+01:00

Funny sometimes how we can be so up and down in the same day. Yesterday I felt a little tired, and somehow a bit down. However, I knew that it would be a short term thing and I would be feeling better soon. Anyway, after a simple meal all was well. Which also reminded me of a precept I arrived at a few years ago...Problems are not going to improve on an empty stomach, so one may as well have something to eat and try to figure out things.

Poem for Today

2009-09-09T16:56:00.000+01:00

In Good Times

In the top,
In the very highest,

Roller-coaster high,
Of this love,

When I feel like,

I am in the tallest tree a schoolboy ever climbed,

Surrounded by brushing leaves,

Like morning-time kisses all around me,
That is when I become terrified.

Getting tragically afraid that I will lose you,
Another thing gone.
I am terrified that I will have no love again,
No reason to go anywhere,

Forcing myself to be good to others all the time.

Because I know joy and peace - I fear it,
And also you.

Home...

2009-09-01T16:58:00.000+01:00

This is all so very obvious but was on my mind this week...

We tend to associate "home" as a geographic concept, but of course it is more of an essence...more of a feeling of security, contentment and ease. Perhaps it is tied in to work, or being with someone. For some it may be the thrill of constantly being on the road.
If home is a sense of place and belonging, it could be gained anywhere.

In the constant upheaval of time and place, the most resilient people are those who may be able to make their home where they find it. They can dovetail their sense of home with whatever physical place they happen to be at. Definitely a useful skill, right up there with being able to sleep as soon as one closes ones eyes, no matter the place or time.

Poem for Today

2009-08-18T20:50:00.000+01:00

Leaving

Packing quietly in early morning grey,
Stuffing things deep down...
Reaching to the bottom of my cheap and soft sided bag.

I watch you doze,
The silence of your old pain,
It is only a quick flicker in your lashes now,
You sigh and dream on.
I smile at the small noises you make when you sleep.

Your chest rises and drops,
I want to stop everything,
Climb back into bed to shelter with you

I am going soon,
And I hate for you to see me leave,
Even though it's you that drops me at the airport.

Not seeing me put away things,
It only makes it seem easier,
I still miss you,
So maybe one day I won't leave.

August 2009

Poem for Today

2009-07-25T05:27:00.000+01:00

Paying

In loving,
In the promising that comes with it,
I can offer you all:
The end of my working life;
All the moments I spend browsing thoughts of you;
The little flashing numbers in bankers' accounts;
The leaving of home;
Traveling far away from parents;
One's country forgotten.

But, in the giving of this,
That's only the price of entry...
The cover charge of love,
Each taste then costs extra,
Lushly and exorbitantly priced.

Turning out the pockets of my life,
Giving up every dream and possession.
I feel like I am piling them on some altar,
Pouring them onto a silver collection plate.

The things I give up for you,
They lay around stupidly,
Heaped-up,
Like useless furniture after a flood,
And the sky still cloudy...

In the giving of these things,
I know I must ask nothing of you.
But love did not make me perfect,
Only more selfish,
So I hunger for my reward.

July 2009

Poem for Today

2009-06-27T14:30:00.000+01:00

Traverse

I miss the smell of your sighs,
So hot in my neck,
I don't know if it is air or liquid.

Your breath pours over my face.

If I could end it for me now - I would,
Dissolved in this paradise,
Traversing with you between earth and deep sky.

I lose myself in you...
But you are the one who is breathing hard.

June 2009

USO

2009-06-17T20:45:00.000+01:00

A friend of mine recently encouraged me to write, so I dug up some notes from my Iraq tour. I found notes I made in a large USO after I touched down in the States. So, here they are my thoughts (Amazing how difficult it is to read ones hand writing after 5 months...)

To appreciate the depth and breadth of our nation, the USO at one of the larger USO hub airports would give a good impression of the people in military service. Of course in any large airport you will see a broad arrayof people. There are young business travelers, Blackberry in one hand and laptop bag in the other; slim women that steal my heart with a sharp glance; young families with scattered children who seem lost and stressed; lovers looking tense, or happy or sad; youths coveting urban style with insanely baggy trousers and long white trousers.

When I travel it seems that I see the "separateness" of us all...The way we distinguish ourselves by dress, accoutrements and manor.

The USO at the larger hub airports is a place for service members to take a pause and seek some food or a place to sit down and hang out. The room is crowded and I manage to squeeze into a place on a couch. I see soldiers (no other military branches today) sprawled on the chairs in all manner of repose. Some are eating, some dozing, contorted into tight corners. The impression get is of a bunch of floppy limbed teddy bears who have been put into a box and then shaken up and tossed on the floor. Legs are where arms should be, and heads are on the floor with feet on armrests. Every race seems represented here and male and female. Everyone is young, and I feel like the oldest person here. Many seem to be just out of basic training, with no unit or rank insignia. What a jumble of people and baggage!

The difference between my compatriots in the USO and the civilians that are outside is that 1) we are all dressed the same 2) something else, some shared knowledge...perhaps nothing more than the concept of waiting, or one of a shared discomfort

There are many reasons for entering service...as many reasons as there are people in the Army...For me, like may others I lseek to find a feeling of belonging.

Wild Sky

2009-06-09T20:46:00.000+01:00

The sky is wild this evening. Running like gray racehorses tearing across the sky. The clouds are billowing on top, but cut like a straight line on the bottom. The shades of grey are sullen and bold, and the speed that they move with makes me feel their power.

Poem for Today...

2009-05-16T10:26:00.000+01:00

Thinking of The Trip

Just to roll without that fear of loss,
To run without the catch of her breathing,
And to forget the feel of her hold.

To have no going to…,
Only the drying damp on my face,
With the wind at my back,
And my favorite shirt on.

Being so cold,
That my heart runs ahead of me on the road

April 2008

Driving...

2009-05-16T10:16:00.001+01:00

When I was younger I often drove long distances to meet a friend or lover. There was always a scrambled departure from home, packing a few belongings, the drive all night, the joy at watching the sun rise behind a bug strew windshield, the warm coffee at a fast food place - the early morning staff as tired as I was...
The excitement and anxiety of travel were sometimes balanced by the thought that the actual meeting might not be as good as the anticipation of it...

I have been driving a good deal recently across Europe...Great roads! 130 km speed limits, pretty decent drivers who understand the right lane is for passing...
In fact in the 3000km or so I have driven recently I have only heard a car horn used twice...and it was by me!

Poem for Today...

2009-04-24T09:24:00.001+01:00

Truth in Hotel Rooms

Lying on my bed,

-Purchased daily,

Neck hanging over the edge,

Seems like falling,

Empty head filling with blood.

So scared,

Living in sweat,

Can’t dry my hands.

Waiting for your call,

Telling me to stay or go.

How did it get like this for me?

You rule everything,

I crawl through each day by waiting,

Not even thinking, but just grieving,

Burning each second,

Thinking of losing it all…

I think,

That must mean you are already gone .

Poem for Today...

2009-03-28T22:25:00.000Z

Alive

On these women I know,

Hair is alive.

A separate living thing,

Moving each tiny glimmering screen,

Having planned, controlled and subtle ways,

Using the wind and sun as its agents.

Playing me with gold and brown.

No strand is the same color twice.

The whole world is there for me.

So, I am lost.

My drug is you,

Deafening me,

Gently numbing me.

Known But to God...

2009-03-21T18:02:00.000Z

Today I undertook a 7 hour hike to visit the WW 1 battle sites around Mons, Belgium. The first battle of that conflict was fought near here, and there is also a lovely, sad and very beautiful military cemetery that I walked to, ( St . Symphorien war cemetery.)

It took forever to get there, and my ill fitting hiking shoes took a toll on me...But, the quiet and solemn place really brought a tear to my eye. The graves are of both German and British /Irish/Canadian soldiers...They are mingled together in death, and the site is maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission...It is set in a small, tiered area. It contains quiet glades and small sun drenched alcoves and small clusters of graves. It is indescribable, with the leaves, budding flowers, sun and quiet rustling of the trees. I was there alone, yet the place did not feel lonely. It felt like something I can't describe, beautiful...Like love? I don't know...
I determined that there was nothing I could do to honor these men more than just living life. I looked to the sun and felt it warm my face as the shadows flickered over the setting. Thinking of these dead, while I was living life...What else could I do to honor them?

I had packed a Thermos of tea and I quaffed a plastic mug of the stuff - feeling the drink refresh me. How lucky I was to enjoy that...It was all I had to toast them...

I felt honored to be there in their presence...

Great post by another blogger here on this deeply moving place...

thepoormouth.blogspot.com/2008/11/post-for-armistice-day.html

Poem for Today...

2009-03-01T18:04:00.000Z

Afraid

Trying to dissolve and de-remember you,
With white-out,
With erasers,
With a delete button.

Just the movements,
The thoughts of trying to blot you out,
Bring you nearer to me.

I seek it,
Coming closer to you,
In trying to lose you.

So afraid, that without the pain of missing you,
I will have nothing

Dec 2008

Children...(Ex Post Facto...from Iraq)

2009-02-11T19:14:00.000Z

Iraq has a very young population with lots of children. Here is a waif in a Northern village... Many children may have developmental, emotional or physical afflictions.

In the same Iraqi town there was a school, and we were waiting in the large courtyard. An old man served us tea off an ancient brass tray. He had a haggard and lined face, and was clad in the typical long Arab-fashioned dress.
With him was a child, dressed in similar clothes, but he the child was burned... What I mean to say is, that he had old healed burn scars on his trunk and arms. I saw them under at the edge of his clothing.
I saw the wrinkled flesh, like scorched cheese, under the lines of his smock as he turned and helped the old man. Perhaps it was his grandfather. ...There are also old burns on the child’s face.

There are a lot of accidental burns in the children here. Heating during the damp winter is often via open flame from compressed fuel tanks. These are also used for cooking.

School was over, but the child was not playing outside with the other kids. He followed the old man, helping him, and distributing the brown heavily sugared tea in tiny etched glass tumblers.

I saw the old man as a comfort for the child. Keeping the youngster engaged and busy, maybe shielding him from more pain...In my mind I picture the child as an outcast, somewhat disfigured, but seeking company. Perhaps he is somewhat shy or shunned ir teased by his schoolmates? Or maybe I am projecting my feelings onto him....(At the time I thought that I should not do that...But perhaps that projection is what gives us empathy.)

I always approach these disfigured children after a short while, and kneel down to shake their hands and communicate with them.

There is always a clamor of kids around us, and I feel that by engaging these special children openly - in a positve way, and with no hesitation - it shows their classmates that they are normal human being too...Or maybe I am doing wrong and should just leave them...

I don't know.

I went to a wedding reception few years ago with my parents as a guest... I knew no one there, and was just tagging along with the folks because I happened to be in town. It was after another (blogless) deployment...Everyone was dressed up, food and drinks and ice sculptures etc.

It was in a fancy hotel complex in Dallas...

At the reception there was a small dark eyed girl sitting quietly. Her dark hair fell over a pair of round glasses that were set far out on her nose. She was perched on a plush couch outside the banquet room, in the hotel's lobby.

She had some form of congenital dwarfism, and was not playing with the children of the other wedding guests. I debated for a long time with myself. It was a time when I was without love, and having lost it, I felt very alone. I sat next to her, but not too close...I wanted to let her know I felt something for her, but did not want her to feel awkward...I did it very casually, as if I was tired. Just making it the most natural thing to do...

At the time, I felt that she was the only one that I had anything in common with there. I talked to her about the weather etc. She never spoke, just smiled back with a small distorted mouth - that seemed too full of teeth.

I didn't want to patronize her. I just didn't want her to feel alone... I know that what I was doing was trying not to feel alone myself... Perhaps I was seeking solace in my own actions...I felt guilty for using her unspeaking company then...

Seems like awhile ago now...I didn't want to do that with the child in Iraq.

(Blog composed from notes made in Nov.2008 in Northern Iraq)

No Place Like...

2009-02-08T21:28:00.000Z

Well, here I am...Another assignment, this time in Europe. Yeah it's no Iraq...
Actually, and I know this sounds crazy, I do miss my pals and the certainty of some things. For instance, the bureaucracy here is crazy. I was thinking last week during in-processing, "what a pain, wish I was in Iraq." Then I caught myself saying that.

I heard a headline this week about the increased number of suicides in the Army. It has probably been an issue for soldiers for years, not just in this country, but everywhere. I was watching the movie "Ryan's Daughter" last week. It has the hauntingly beautiful Sarah Miles in it. Anyway, she falls in love with a mentally damaged British soldier. He ends up taking his life.

I think that there are so many issues one faces upon returning. Also, each person's experience is so unique. Their reaction to returning may depend upon where in the cycle of their own life they are... Perhaps it is the fact that one sees life continuing, and one is expected to fit in? I don't know, but it is not just a sadness...it is like an emptiness, a palpable nothing that engulfs a person. Perhaps it is a sort of loneliness that one experiences upon returning. I guess "aloneness" is a better word.
Even with crowds around, one walks through the days alone.

If I can motivate anyone to do anything, please watch the movie "The Best Years of Our Lives". It is from 1946. Powerful. Some scenes always move me to tears.

Anyway, I will continue to put up stuff from Iraq, as well as my impressions of this tour in Europe.

Dream in peace.

Poem for Today

2009-01-29T23:39:00.000Z

Some Sunshine

Burning dot of Western sun,
Wringing old Winter’s hurt out of me.

Makes me sleepy soft,
Bending me gently,
Sprawled on the carpet next to you.

I feel the burst of each photon,
Watching it twist and swing though your hair,
It’s a million tiny monkeys,
Playing easy,
Bouncing through the bright strands.

I blow near your ear.
And the golden curtain over your face shifts colors,
Parting like sand.

I see you smile,
And feel able to sleep.

January 2009

Living in the USA - Somebody Get Me a Cheeseburger!

2009-01-17T19:18:00.000Z

Hope some will recall that great Steve Miller song...

Well I am back. Long trip, and have been taking it easy for a bit. Feeling pretty good, and much better than after last tour. Funny how that is...but there is no telling what factors may influence things and make one thing seem to be better or worse than another. My pet cat died while I was away...He was a sweet gentle thing. He seemed to take delight in every day...Something to be learned from that. I also envy his ability to sleep for 15-18 hours a day.

Poem for Today...

2008-12-05T15:21:00.000Z

Kissing Corners

Tasting the corners of your mouth,
Holding your upturned face in my hands,
But softly,
One dark palm on each side,
Like a California beach ball.

Your eyes are closed,
Small wrinkles around the edges,
I want to flatten them with my kisses.

Your lips are open,
And you are trying to breathe,
But you don't remember how.

Dec 2008

Poem for Today...

2008-12-02T17:09:00.000Z

In Transit

As soon as I touched the crinkles in your lips,

I knew that I would break my heart.

This journey began with that kiss,

But now, I think maybe it was not the start.

Maybe you were just a lost passenger too,

Stepping accidentally onto my train,

We swayed together in the rolling carriage,

Easy riding, over down-hill runs.

Life was no effort.

Sitting contented, side by side, and happy when we bumped together,

Pushed close by bends in the tracks.

I thought the ride would never stop,

Each day was just simple.

But, while I dozed,

Anesthetized in the fumes of your love,

Somewhere you must have gotten off.

I can’t say now where you left,

There is no conductor to ask,

No signs to mark going or coming,

Just the side view from the windows,

No map or guidebook,

And even the rails are laid down new every day.

Leaving me on board and alone,

Not sure where I am I going,

And starting to wonder if I paid too much for this trip.

September 2008

"They Say It's Your Birthday..."

2008-11-20T13:52:00.000Z

The posts titled with song titles/lyrics continue.

It is my birthday today. Cold snap here. Damp and cool. Sky is grey like steel. Although a little while ago a gleam of pale sun - faint yellow like a boiled egg -popped through the clouds. I am stuck in the North of Iraq after a short mission - awaiting transportation. The wind / damp air are gently blowing. A few puddles reflect the sky, which is similar in color to the gravel strewn earth.

It is a bit despondent and run down here, as are a lot of the camps. Old Iraqi military buildings, are adorned with faded murals and Arabic writing. But the run-down and shabby feel of this place suits my mood today.

I will lift my spirits with a coffee which I will get from the DFAC. Although I am not really "down".
I am travelling with Iraqi-American translators. They speak Arabic amongst themselves and with the other translators. I am responsible for their safety, and perhaps they resent the over watch...I am removed from their language and conversations. Today I felt detached from them, as well as the fellow soldiers around me. Just feel more alone. Maybe not lonely.

I am thinking of a girl.

I can't remember last year's birthday. I won't forget this one though. It started with a morning flight in a helicopter. I thought, "My God, what a honor, what a privilege it is to serve on this day, away from home!"

My love for my country keeps me warm.

Three Little Birds...

2008-11-12T20:08:00.001Z

Above where I live are some tiny -but chubby- little sparrows / finches. They have set up a nest(s) in the few inches between the top of my living space and the corrugated metal on the roof. Today I saw three of them peeking out and looking around. They have small faces with brilliant black eyes and short yellow-tan beaks.
They have such a playful, but self assured air that it is easy to start talking to them. "What are you up to?" or "Hey birds, what are you doing?" They look at you with complete disdain for a moment before they get back to business.

It's a different world for them.