Tried to post this last night but the site was down for maintenance...never too late to reflect and give thanks...

To all who shall see these presents, greetings…

Forget Me Not 

Settle in this evening fair,
for not contrite this humble
gift donned of sweet liberty
by purposed men baptized in
blood and cannon-fire. 

Forget me not.
Honor prevailed at the
hands of heroes sacrificed
upon your hallowed eve
of independence. 

Did dawn not find
our coats bled red?
Nay, to contrary,
our coats still bleed blue eternal
upon that crimson field
of sacrificed sons
and lamenting fathers. 

Should not liberty
have begotten justice
upon the redcoat
borne of Patriot blood? 

Desperate independence quartered
no crown in patriot provision then.
Yet, now propagate traitors among us?
The turncoat in contempt haunts me
well beyond my living days. 

Shall I find scarlet
upon the back of my son?
The breast of my daughter?
The hearts of my children
centuries hence?   

Surely, I returned then,
glorified in union
...and independence.
Is it not written? 

This union I gifted freely to you.
Sired by blood.
Bequeathed by bravery.
Defended by honor. 

Established by right.
Principled in equality.
Purposed in liberty.
For all men. 

Do you know of me
my child, born free
by my blood spilled
these centuries passed? 

Do you not remember me?
I was shunned by you,
cast away at your doorstep
by the voice of ignorance. 

You have abandoned me;
my brothers put to slaughter,
readily forsaken by you
as you so freely sing in defiance. 

You have forgotten me,
blinded by blasphemy
and foolish pride.

Open your door to me now. 
Wait by your casement and
sing your sweet lullaby
of sorrow, of sacrifice, and
of patriot sons loved once again.  

I have not forgotten you.
I carried the banner of ignorance
for you upon embattled fields
anointed in patriot blood. 

Fool am I to have levied your
voice of ignorance for you?
Child, this was my gift to you. 

Forget me not.
I am the son of liberty. 


Heroes Have Eyes

Can you not understand this blasphemy
where the ribbon of life is severed clean?

Beyond depths,
lost in the cauldron,
are the hearts of heroes
lost forever.

These men have eyes
that pierce the night,
leering at those
who spit upon their graves,

With furled brow,
and lamenting heart,
they find their home
beyond your comprehension.

You have been found
in contempt of liberty.
The curse of surreal idealism
has befallen you.

Your sense of home,
ruled by the passive hand,
has cloaked you
in the shawl of slavery.

Reap what you sow
in the seeds of submission
while the weight of resolve
squares upon your shoulders.

Shall you harvest submission
for the heroed heart?
No, you shall not offer
your coward’s reward to me.

I find my way
through darkened day,
to the Tomb of
the Unknown Soldier.

Well within
my humble soul he resides,
ever glorified
in his resolve to defend.

There shall he watch
his family grieve of his sacrifice
while embracing the night
in which cowards find solace.

Raise your coward’s banner
you submissive few!
Look upon death’s face
and say to him,

“You are not worthy!”
Be sure you are looking in the mirror.

While I look upon
his tearstained face and say,

“My hero lost,
I fear that I am not
worthy of you.”

Thank you for loving me enough.




Authors of Freedom
For our beloved heroes of World War II

I. Worn Thin

Reverent friend worn thin
in timed procession of life,
fragile smile christens
weathered lips and worn jaw.

Callused hands hold on tightly
to the second hand of obstinance,
Trying to slow the fervent tick
of that unruly clock.

The atlas has been found
in the palm of your hand.
The map of successes and failures
is well drawn here.

You have seen more
than one should of the latter.
Yet, still your lips part,
however fragile,
in youth’s resistant smile.
Yet, innocence void still.

You have overcome all odds.
Your blood spilt,
sacrificed for
the sovereignty of all.

You have buried
sons and daughters,
husbands and wives,
mothers and fathers,
brothers and sisters,
and those you cradled
amidst those desperate fields.

Your eyes speak louder than words
of times distant yet never forgotten
to lamenting masses born long after
your stars fell from on high.

II. Weight of the World

Crows-feet run on,
attesting to trials of survival
from dustbowls
and our Great Depression
to the stench of death
upon Europe’s hallowed ground,
and upon the beaches of Iwo Jima.

Trace the map
of your existential trials
through the years,
the smiles,
the laughter,
and the tears.

You buried your innocence
with humility …and blood
so that sons and daughters
might know their own.

III. Scars

Scars,
some seen
and some unseen,
all thrive,
never truly healed
in this hero loved.

Perhaps death
would have been kinder,
more humane,
even palatable
in some regards.

Regardless of age,
regardless of scars,
I shall not forget
that they were meant
for all of us.

IV. Authors of the Free World

I look upon your weighted back
falling with gravity’s cruel hand
and laden by the woes
of this compromised world past.

Shoulders, longing for release,
crushed under the fascist boot
of long ago.

Knees weakened in prayer,
kneeling in want of sound resolve
and tempered tranquility.

How many years
have your knees worn into
this unforgiving floor?

Your relentless pursuit
for penance of heart
has left you callused,
without understanding
it is our own hearts
in need of penance from you.

You have found me steady
my ageless friend.
Ready, at your bidding,
to carry your load home
to the staid hearts of free men.

Spurring these days forward,
that they may, in time,
break their bread with you
at the Hero’s Table,
burying innocence yet again
so that others may not.

You were young,
you were vibrant,
you were fearless,
and you were courageous
authors of the free world.

Regardless of age,
Regardless of scars,
I will remember you
…and so will my sons.

Tags: Memorial Day Thank You Remember Heroes Tribute Military Sacrifice

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