I lay upon my last breaths Drenched in the strangeness of my surroundings
Category: Verse
Some of us…
Some of us are creatures of our own imagination,
Nightmares for some,
Whimsy for others.
We love and learn.
We feel and move on.
And for those who follow blindly,
There is no imagination,
There is no real joy,
No love,
Nothing but hate,
And empty promises,
Of nothing.
The Endless Night
Boat ride
Perfect summer verse from R James Turley. If you aren’t following this blog you’re missing out on some of the most outstanding prose and verse I’ve seen in a long time. Discover something new.
Click here for Boat Ride.
You’ll be glad you did.
Rode a boat today
It was a great day
Feeling the wind through my hair
As we skim across the water
And through the air
makes you feel so free
I could just be me
Not a care
As we watch the world go by
Like a rodeo bull rider
Riding those waves
The boat goin higher and higher
Feeling the coolness of the water
As it splashes up
And roll off your face
Flying across the water
Makes you want to holler
You wish every day
Can be so free
The Eagle Cried. Poetry of War, Loss and Love
I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer Richard Turton.
The Eagle Cried
The acrid smell of cordite
Still hovered in the air.
No breeze to wash away
The scent of Satan’s hair.
The Medivac’s are fading now,
Their cabins filled with dead.
So many grisly pictures
Are surging through my head
Another hill’s been taken
The earth all charred and black
We all know what’s coming;
Tomorrow…”Give it back!”
The Eagle cries from barren trees
His tears, he cannot hide.
Where once a proud, young soldier stood
My Warrior Brother, died
The scorched ground that surrounds me;
Am I in Dante’s Hell?
This skirmish now is over
We saw them as they fell.
My Warrior Brother, Donny,
Died that gruesome day.
He took the bullets meant for me
With his final words did say,
“Tell Mom and Sis I loved them!
Please! Don’t let me down!”
I promised I would tell them
A promise I’d soon drown.
The Eagle cried that tragic day,
Back in Sixty-Eight.
A promise made…un-kept,
To my Warrior mate.
One thing that I’m sure of,
A thing that gives no rest.
The hounds of Hell still battle
Deep within my chest.
A bottle’d been my address
For forty years or more.
I’d take ‘most any drug,
I couldn’t find the door.
Somewhere there’s a record,
Of drugs and booze and tears.
When I crawled out of the bottle
I’d been buried in for years.
Half a decade sober.
Not a real long time.
That’s how long I’m clean tho’,
My life’s becoming mine.
The winds of war are blowing by;
In history books they last.
I’m in the winter of my years,
My best days…they have passed.
The one thing that I’ve never done
One thing I cannot face:
To visit the Memorial,
The headstone for that place.
My daughter said, “You have to go,
To honor those who died!”
I said I know I should…
But that I’d go…I lied
Then one day the phone rang;
A call I knew I’d dread.
It was Donny’s sister,
“Please help me!” Karen pled.
“I’ve spent these years just searching
I even hired a sleuth.
I finally found out where you live…
I need to know the truth.”
“The Army’s always been real vague,
And their answers never matched.
I need to know what happened;
They always seemed detached”
“Our Mother has passed on now,
But I still need to know;
I’d really love to meet with you,
Please…just show me how!”
The hounds of Hell are roused again;
Their howling has re-started.
I force their shrieks out of my mind,
My path, it has been charted
Quiet now, you dogs of war!
It’s time for a new quest!
It’s time for me to wrestle you,
And lay your souls to rest!
Then I thought the one thing,
A thought I’d never say,
Should I meet her at The Wall,
And put my hounds at bay?
I finally said I’d meet with her,
With a voice that was not mine.
“The Wall is where I’ll meet you.
I’ll see you there at nine.”
I saw flowers in her hand,
As she walked my way.
“Yellow roses were his favorite.”
Later she would say.
“Hello, my name is Karen.”
She said when we did meet
“Donny wrote me many things,
I knew that you’d be sweet!”
“I know this must be hard for you,
But I really need to know.
Please tell me how my brother died,
That day, so long ago.”
The moment had arrived.
I could hide this fact no more.
I said things I’d kept hidden,
Behind my mind’s locked door
She took my hand in hers,
And waited patiently.
My head bowed down as I thought
Of words I had to say.
I knew my words would stab her heart
But she would not look away.
She watched me as I told her
Of that ghastly day.
“Your Brother died in my arms,
In that nameless place.
He took the bullets meant for me
And died as we embraced!”
Her head dropped down, when I was done
Her chin upon her chest.
A single tear rolled down her cheek,
“Now Donny’s laid to rest.”
I walked with her as she made her way
To the Wall of Stone.
She laid the flowers at the base
Her silent prayer was sown.
At last I’ve honored those who fell,
Whose names are etched in rows.
We touched the name of Donny,
Who died so long ago.
And we cried…
The Eagle’s cry is heard again;
It lives within the Wall!
Each time a name is touched
The Eagle gives his call.
© Richard Turton
Note from Marla:
I met Rick Turton through his son who was my daughter’s 4th grade teacher. Rick joined a writing group I’m an administrator for. We all soon discovered Rick is a talented writer and a man with a sharp sense of humor. When I first read this poem I had no idea … I ended up choked up. A few years ago I visited the Vietnam Memorial in Washington DC. It was such a moving experience – a difficult experience – even though the war is long over. For many it will never be over. Thank you to Rick for your words of love and honor and for allowing me to share this poem.
I am free…
Shelter Girl – A Reminder
Magic, myth and alien worlds all come together
Magic, myth and alien worlds all come together in this collection of short stories from Writers, Poets and Deviants.
~ A young witch and her talking dog must rid their home of unwelcome guests.
~ A pair of newsmen travel to Alaska to hear an astonishing tale of an encounter with an extinct creature.
~ A boy searches for the Edge of the World, uncovering the mystery of his grandfather’s disappearance in the process.
~ A troll hunter makes a startling discovery about his prey.
~ Dragons on an alien planet find friendship in an old man, but not all humans share his sentiments when it comes to the giant winged reptiles.
~ A lonely shapeshifter is the sole survivor of an Aztec king’s attempt at genocide of her race.
~ A pair of inter-dimensional explorers discover yet another new world and must face a horrifying beast.
Enjoy these stories and many more, in this exciting fantasy collection from the versatile and imaginative authors of WPaD.
This is a charity anthology. A percentage of royalties will be donated to MS research in support of members of our group who live with Multiple Sclerosis.
Includes works from: J. Harrison Kemp, Anand Matthew. S. E. Springle, Marla Todd, Diana Garcia, David W. Stone, Robert Betz, A.K. Wallace, Michael Faberfelner, Jade W. Phillips, Mandy White and Daniel E. Tanzo
Her Cleavage
This post gets a 5 star poetry review from West Coast Review
West Coast Review 