December 22, 2011 - 0340

On my drive home I saw a huge buck in a forest preserve. He was standing in the fog and mist and I was inspired. I actually said to myself "I wish I could paint or draw that scene." Instead I wrote these words.

What I Saw This Morning 12-21-11

My drive home is usually bland

On autopilot I wind the roads

Never a standout moment

Rarely a story to tell

This morning it was was foggy; misty

A hazy, dangerous way to be

Making my trip to my dogs

And the warmth of my bed

This morning, as I shivered

Despite my heater heating my car

A sight rose from the fog

Appearing through the mist

Its red-tan hair shone with the dew

Its ears flickered as it listened

For approaching coyotes

Or for approaching people

The large rack of antlers

14 points of bone and glory

A hunters dream

A predators nightmare

I quickly scanned my right

Changed lanes and slowed

This glorious animal needed

A closer look, a more detailed glance

The steam puffed from its nose

As it scanned the horizon

The roadway where I drove by

The least of its concern

I wanted to paint this beast

To draw the magnificence that was

The power, the strength, the beauty

Of the protector of the herd

I slowed as traffic slowed

I stopped as traffic stopped

But the image remained

Burned into my mind

As I drove away from the light

I wondered, if I had seen him

At another time, another place

Could I have been as moved

December 5, 2011 - 0300

I was driving on the nearby Army base when I heard a variety of sounds. I stopped my car and turned off the radio and the heater so that I could get a better handle on what was going on around me.

Nature Being Natural

In the dark

In the cold

All around I can hear

Nature being natural

I can hear

The wings of an owl

The feathers rustling on

The icy night wind

I can hear

A coyote howling

At the brightly shining

Cloud covered moon

I can hear

Deer in the shadows

Hooves walking well worn paths

In the unmown grass

I am surrounded by structure

Buildings and streets and civilization

But when I stop and pay attention

I can hear nature being natural

November 24, 2011 - 0350

This one came to me when I got out of the shower a couple of days ago. I looked in the mirror, noticing the lines in my face and the gray hairs in various places. And I smiled to my mirror because I knew that despite being older I was still not exactly a grown-up.

Reflections

Have you ever stood in front of a mirror
And thought aloud to yourself 
Remember when I was young?

Do you look at yearbooks and photos

And say to nobody

Was I really that small?

Or thin?

Or innocent?

Did I really have that much hair?

Do you see kids playing and wonder

Did I ever play like that?

So carefree? Without fear?

Do the wrinkles remind you that you're old?

Does the gray hair make you wistful for your youth?

Does every birthday make you a little sad?

Or...do you look at the wrinkles

And gray hair; and growing number of candles

And smile, because you know growing older

Doesn't necessarily mean

Growing up.

Panting For Paws 5K - 11/13/2011

I ran for them on Sunday

Furry tails and floppy ears

To keep them fed and warm

I ran for them on Sunday

I trained for them for weeks

Running. Oh, the running

Day in, day out. The running

I ran for them on Sunday

I pictured their faces while I ran

Her sad yellow eyes. Her broken ear

They kept me going while I ran

I ran for them on Sunday

If there were more I could do, I would

More money to give, more toys to share

They give us so much in return

So I ran for them on Sunday

November 17, 2011 - 0500

I've decided to take a different tack on this blog. I am not going to confine it to just work related posts, but I will be adding things that I want to write about from every day. My dogs, my wife, my observations. Having put up 90-something posts so far, I hope to add more and more as time goes on.

November 16, 2011 - 0200

It's been too long since I've written anything. And so, as promised here's the "epic" I alluded to a few days ago.

A Four Day Battle


They knew they would lose going into the fray
That there was no hope of winning
They made peace with whatever gods they did pray
And set out on their doomed beginning

The enemy rumbled and stumbled about
Not caring a bit for their foes
Rain and cold did not keep them out
of the battle to add to the vanquished ones

Bolstered by liquor they charged into war
Grabbing them by their warty heads
Lifting them up and then heaving them for
The brain matter flying from fractured heads

Numbers and bodies replenished by day
One to be decimated at night
They sit and guard on walls of hay
Hoping their visages will give a fright

The attackers vision is blinded by beer
And so the scary eyes do no good
One by one and without fear
The righteous are crushed under foot

As champions of our quiet town
You'd think that we would do more
And protect the smaller and weaker around
where we patrol near the lake shore

But truth be told we're only two
And the victims number quite high
Their enemies outnumber us, also true
And safety is first, not to die

Over and over the bodies were crushed
And over and over replaced
At night the streets were littered and touched
By guts and gore and tire-smashed face

Four days of battle passed away
And only some casualties found
It had tapered to fewer and fewer each day
With cleanup a task to confound

Was it worth it? Some would say yes
The families of victims would bust
For records and glory I cannot guess
That the toll that was taken was just

October 21-24, 2011 - 1655

The weekend was a wacky one to be sure. I worked the following schedule: 2300-0700, 1500-2300, 2300-0700, 2300-0700. This change was due to a major event in town, involving record breaking attempts, tons of people and even more produce. I still managed to get in a nice arrest despite my sleep being all discombobulated.

The following lines are in all different kinds of styles, meters, and rhyme sequences. It was actually written at about 0400 on very little sleep and even less activity.

Changes In Shift Don't Mean A Thing To Me


Two days good
Two days slow
Two days of fun
Like only cops know

One on, one off
One fast, one slow
Four days total
Is how a shift goes

Friday and Monday went without note
Saturday and Sunday were busy
First day and last day crawled by
Second and third seemed to fly

Day two of four I worked in the sun
I thought I would burst into flames
My skin is too pale for this sort of fun
Too many people with unknown names

Walked up and down through pumpkins and kids
They tried but I think they fell short
It looked quite impressive, really it did
We'll find out in weeks if they made it or not

The flash bulbs were popping
And video whirring
We were peacekeepers to some
And pariahs to others

Day 3 was a Sunday
An allegedly quiet day
Raining most of the night
Kept it that way

Until around 1:00 am and I saw it
A car with no lights on, I followed it
Drunk driver, inside of it
And bonus veggies to go with it

A cooperative chap, despite his misdeed
He took his charges like a champ
Two hours with us then to a friends house he fleed
From a monied town; he's no tramp

My paperwork done I sit and I write
Changing styles all throughout my verses
But I'm tired and ready to go home this night
And leave my office and it's curses

October 16-17, 2011 - 0715

I titled it that way because it's actually being written several days later. My work PC was acting wonky, and I meant to put this out when I got home, but other things took up my time. Vet appointment with the dog, sleeping only 2 hours or so. It was quite a day. But so were my first two nights of duty. I took off the second two for training.

Pro Tips


Take the advice of a veteran
About 14 years a veteran
When I offer you a chance
Take it

I watched you and your friend
You walked out - staggered out
He got behind the wheel, fired it up
You stood at the curb, whipped it out
That's when we needed to talk

I asked you why
You denied it
I showed you a river of urine
You denied it

Name and birthday made you 18
And drunk. Now I'm angry
Not at you so much - at the bar
Bartender specifically

You said no ID - until I saw it
Now I'm mad at you
You lied to me
Shame, shame, shame

Your friend - too drunk to drive
Or speak coherently
Until the handcuffs go on
Then it's perfectly loud and clear

PRO TIP - If I give you a chance
Take it
Be honest
Don't pee outside

Night two was opposite night
Polite, cooperative, stable
Also drunk as a skunk
Be honest

"I had six beers"
His tests didn't seem like six
His breath said six
At least six, maybe a couple more

He called his wife for a ride
She hung up on him
Twice
Third time, she agreed to get him

PRO TIP #2 - if your wife says
Come home. Listen to her
You honesty is with with me
It goes even further with her

October 11-13, 2011 - 0455

It's been quite a long time since I posted something here. Not due to being overly busy or anything, just being overly tired, lazy, and not having much to write about on the work front.  So I decided to encapsulate the entire shift into one poem. This is only three days, because I had the first night off.

What Could Happen In Only 72 Hours?


As the days grow short and cool
The college drunks are back in school
It was a Monday night fiasco
That we dealt with from the word go

When two groups fight over stupid crap
They never like when I give them flap
Potted plant broken over a head
Like hitting a rock is what I said

And another set of drinking pals
Both active like little animals
One so bombed that he barely stood
In a fellow coppers neighborhood

We spoke for only a minute or two
I'd actually stopped listening - this was true
There'd been no threat only boozy dreams
With beer filled bladder bursting at the seams

Our next night we went to a house
And crept around like a feathered grouse
But our callers eyes were failing him
The only intruder, his basketball rim

The last night found a tire leaking
A screw in the tread was shyly peaking
Letting air out slow and steady
In a different car, I still was ready

October 1, 2011 - 0500

And, welcome to the last quarter of 2011. It was a much more productive night than last night, since I posted nothing yesterday. And despite being harangued by my peer for about an hour and a half, I was able to get out and make an arrest before the bars closed. DUI arrests are probably my favorites. They can be dangerous, without a doubt, but most of the time they are merely entertaining. And for me, even if there isn't anything particularly funny about the contact or tests, it's still satisfying to get a drunk driver off of the streets. Which is what I did tonight.

Day One DUI


The first day of the month of quarter last
As I sat with a partner passing time
I saw a car without lights driving past
Not exactly the most heinous of crimes

But we know that these can lead to something
And so I left our chat to catch the car
Most times it just turns out to be nothing
But late at night I can't let them go far

The smell of booze inside the car was strong
I got her out and made her do my tests
From what I saw her driving now was wrong
This is one of the things that I do best

She refused and soon was sent on her way
And I went back out on the streets to play

September 29, 2011 - 0405

An early one to be sure. I looked back on some of the things I have written about, and I saw a definite pattern. Long, boring nights with not much going on. My peer at the department chewing my ear for a couple of hours every week. And occasional excitement or arrests. I will continue to showcase the excitement when it happens, but I want to move away from the mundane crap that happens around the department. If you're a cop, you know that midnight shift is a dead one. They don't call it the graveyard shift for nothing.

So, in that line, I have a summary of tonight's activities, and then a more personal one.

3 Shorts and A Bio


I tried to make movies and failed
But nobody who asked really wailed
Our technology's slow
And everyone knows
The reports where the suspects get nailed

Staying and hearing them talk
When no cars circle the block
Their tales made me smile
So I listened a while
And then back to the office I'd locked

The bullets all needed some sorting
But I had no way of exporting
In an orderly way
But the range trash saved the day
And no more loose ammo cavorting

- - - - - - - - - -

Who am I?
Husband? Yes.
Cop? Yes.
But...who?

Animal lover? Yes.
Poetry writer? Yes.
Picture taker? Yes.
But...who?

Tough guy? No.
Bad guy? No.
Mean guy? No.
But...who?

Angry man? No.
Quiet man? Yes.
Forceful man? No.
Smart man? Yes.

Who am I? Just a man...
Police man
Dog man
Reading man
Writing man
Loving man

September 25, 2011 - 0450

It was an uneventful last nights of my four day rotation. Which was a nice contrast to the craziness of the first night. Once in a while is fine, but I'm glad it isn't every night like we had the other night. We had a couple of calls, but one stuck out in my head. The poor guy has an extensive history with law enforcement, but that wasn't the real issue.

Fall Has Fallen, And Call Volume Has Too


As I sat in my office on a cool dark night
I wondered to myself, what should I write?
I didn't stop cars, I made no arrests
The usual drunkards were not acting like pests

There was the new issue with my assigned car
The steering was failing, so I didn't drive far
Or even too fast, in case it went out
And it certainly will, of that there's no doubt

We finally got called to a loud argument
My partner and I by the radio sent
But when I arrived there was no domestic
But only a man on a phone talking hectic

I stayed by myself and asked what was wrong
And was greeted by yelling and spit flying long
But it wasn't at me and wasn't his fault
A tumor caused volume control loss

We spoke a great deal and his problems were deep
He'd been victimized by the company he'd keep
The systems were bad and he had no support
From doctors, police or even the court

Thirty minutes I let him vent his frustration
Hoping that somehow it would help his situation
And when seemed calmer I said my farewell
Hoping he'd find some respite from his hell

As I got in my car I thought of my life
My home and my dogs and my loving wife
It made me feel grateful for all that I've got
And a little bit sad for a man who did not

September 23, 2011 - 0545

What a night! A huge contrast from the night before. My first night back had nothing. Only one car stop by anyone working and it was for a violation that I'm not sure I could use in my own head even though it's a legitimate offense.

Tonight was opposite night in town. It started off with me tired and heartburn-y, and ended with a "Wow!" story.

Oh What A Night


It started off slowly and I was tired
In a hazy funk my brain was mired
Hadn't slept well, mind was not wired
for working eight hours in it's entire

I saw a car coming, high beams on
Gave a fair warning then my lights came on
Not drunk in the car and so I was gone
This driver was not to be my pawn

Only minutes later a second car spied
With no lights on, on their expensive ride
Red and blue flashing slowed the tide
of a driver I soon discovered was fried

Some weed and a pipe on his person he had
He screamed for a lawyer, and then mom and dad
16 years old and out being bad
His mother showed up, she was not glad

Then a fight call in a nearby bar
We flew to the place in shiny black cars
A man with a knife had tried to run far
But being so drunk made him run like in tar

An argument only, there was no knife
The alleged victim wasn't in fear for his life
Now we're harassing and causing some strife
The smell of his booze-breath was very rife

with anger, hatred and fear
All of these things he explained in not so clear
words all slurred and stinking of beer
He gave us the finger all night far and near

Back again to the tavern for another drunk
She's hammered and has a stripe like a skunk
down the back of her coat, she tells me she's "crunk"
She bit a bouncer because "his hair stunk"

She didn't draw blood so we just made her go
Shooed into a cab, we ended the show
Would we be back? I didn't know
The craziness the night just continued to grow

A pair of drunk fellows, one in red one in black
Have stopped by the city hall on the train track
The dark dressed one is peeing with knack
And walking along trying not to get whacked

I scolded them both and sent them away
There were bigger things going on this day
They staggered along in a gentle sway
Away from the hustling fighting and fray

The bars all closed quickly and thought we were done
But the radio crackled with a bit more fun
A guy on a bike path trying not to run
I went to see what prize we had won

One of the drunks from my city hall stop
Was now all alone with a fair city cop
Wasted and high he couldn't walk or hop
The air his story cut like a martial arts chop

He shivered and shook  as he told his tale
of a small child in white and a ghostly female
Who'd said "Help me" by a bike locking rail
And then disappeared like a cloud in a gale

The ghost story was the perfect cap to a night
That lifted me from tired to a wide awake height
With a ticket in angry Army guys sight
And a scary story full of drunken fright

September 19, 2011 - 0430

Today I am 38 years old. I don't have any fancy plans, other than to get some rest and then spend the day with my wonderful wife. But I did have to work. We had one call all night in the rain, but it was a good one. A car had missed a turn in the road and ended up on the train tracks. The driver was not surprisingly arrested for DUI and I got to write about the entire thing.

I took some of the words in this rather long set from the Grandiloquent Dictionary. See if you can spot them.

A Birthday Car Crash/Arrest/Writing Experience


When the call came out it didn't take much for an
autotonsorialist like myself to think "DUI."

She was no beldam. In fact, she was young
and dressed for a night out.

Perhaps it was a
cacestogenous upbringing that
led her to drink.

One thing was for sure
she did not suffer from dipsophobia.
The car reeked of booze.

Upon our arrival, she began to
explaterate. We couldn't get a word in
edgewise.

Under arrest, she was taken away by my partner.
The sound of her car being towed off of
the tracks was fluctisonant.

It became obvious enough that
she was gambrinous. But where she had been
she would not say

We knew this would happen to her.
There was plenty to indicate the
hamartithia from her.

A check of her wallet
for bond money found her to be quite impecunious.

She began her jactancy
with us after a time. It didn't last long.

As she was being processed, she played with
her hair, causing a krobylos to come into being

When we did not believe her stories
she was overcome with lypothymia

She decided to "come clean" with us
and say who was really driving. But several
different stories made me think
she was simply practicing her mentimutation.

She started to nicitate
when we called her stories false. She knew
she'd been caught

As we got closer and closer to her
being released, her oenophlygia became
more and more apparent

We told her that driving drunk
was not the end of the world, but
maybe this would give her a mild case
of potophobia for a while

She was just a quean
There was time for her to
learn from this mistake

And though the third raith was almost over
The fourth had yet to begin.
She didn't listen to us

The alcohol had made
her saprostomous. Time for
her to go home

When told that she could
leave, she was overcome with
tachyphrasia, thanking us repeatedly

She ran from the station
like it was an utlesse, even though
she'd been set free

Walking up the sidewalk, she seemed
quite vauntie. And why not?
She was alive after all

I was happy she was unhurt.
But her drinking style will
lead to a wanweird I think.

Jail time and xerophagy
would do her some good

Too much more drinking and she'll end up
a yaud. Like so many others around town.

And another zob is not
what we need around here.

September 18, 2011 - 0415

I was given a pleasant surprise when I got in to work this evening. Four of us for the night shift. FOUR! Amazing! Of course, two were part time and one was the regular guy who does as little as possible. But this night, we were all actually trying to get into something. It just wasn't in the cards I guess, since we all came up empty. I did notice while I was getting my car washed that I had put 102 miles on the car in three days. It made me a little bit angry at myself, that in all of those miles I couldn't come up with anything. Maybe tomorrow.

Where Did I Really Go?


There was a bumper crop of cops in town
Four, up from three, up from two
A quarter of the town is still inaccessible by car
But, we made do

I tried to increase my numbers
It's not easy when you can't drive the streets of your own town
I was able to stop two cars
But nobody I stopped was a problem

Where I work isn't that big
Only 0.6 miles square
Yet, somehow I put
102 miles on the car in three days

Depending on what route I'd drive
That's a trip to Chicago and back
in the space of 0.6 miles square
I've driven a lot with nothing to show

September 17, 2011 - 0500

It's time for yet another festival in town. This one closes most of one of the major streets in the business district of the town. It's only a minor inconvenience for us (the police) to drive the side streets and adjacent lots to get where we need to go, but I can't imagine what would happen if there were a fire.

Despite this, a couple of the bars did well for themselves this night. Probably because it was a pain in the rear to get to others. One in particular had a large crowd, and we kept our trained eyes on this place so that they knew no shenanigans would be allowed.

But Is It Art?


A major street in town was closed tonight
This blocked some businesses and several homes
Nobody came to us and begged their plight
We knew not where they went, not where they roamed

A staggering blue shirt walked and kicked cones
I caught him just outside of a bears bar
We talked and his sorrow became well known
He was not from the town, he was from far

Some bars were busy but most were not full
Most closed early, tow stayed open late
Expecting trouble to one we all did roll
The fights and boobery we did abate

They say the town is too small for real crime
My answer is to say just give it time

September 16, 2011 - 0430

I took the last night of my shift off last week, because I worked 13.5 hours out of an 8.5 hour shift. And since I'd already put in a couple of 10 and 11 hour days last pay period, I decided to get some of that time back.

Tonight was a slow, chilly fall-like night. There were only a few people around, and they were not an issue. So to honor a slow, seemingly short night, I have Haiku.

Cold Night Haiku


My peer left early
Leaving me to drive the town
There was no one out

I gave out awards
Arresters of drunk drivers
All five were night shift

Inbox was quite full
Requests and follow-ups due
Surprised me for sure

We have some ammo
Not enough to qualify
No money for more

September 12, 2011 - 0345

You may think, given my profession and my love of it, that this would be a remembrance type post, for September 11, 2011. After all, I was a cop on that day 10 years ago. I wear the 9-11 bar on my uniform still, as a reminder of where I was and what I was doing. But this isn't that kind of post. I managed to make it all day without seeing too much from either extreme, liberal or conservative.

This is instead, a coverage of my last two days. My wife did a ride-along with me on Saturday, and I made sure it was worth her losing some sleep to see what happens at work. And Sunday was a pretty typical slow day. I did talk with some people, but overall it was a recovery day from the night before.

Drunk Drivers and Familiar Faces


My Baby came with me to ride and see
Who would be out in the little city
A Saturday filled with people galore
And a full moon to bring all the crazy to fore

As we drove and we talked a car we did see
Across the train tracks, no lights on had he
After speaking a moment he went on his way
I'm hunting for drunkards to arrest this day

Not too long after a second car flying
Red Ferrari was speeding, driver implied I was lying
But when no ticket was issued he changed his tune
'Cause it drunks I was hunting under the full moon

'Twas an hour long gap til the next car we bother
Not stopping at signage, said that she'd rather
Apologize now, which she did in a flash
Her car smelled delicious, French fries in the dash?

As we pulled away, an illegally parked truck
I scratch out the ticket for a quick city buck
And there at the wheel, my passed out drunk driver
An easy arrest, a definite high-fiver

His tests and my banter made Baby laugh
The driver smelled awful, like he'd taken a bath
in funky cologne and cheap warm beer
Hauled away, then his car on a tow truck disappeared

He couldn't perform the last simple test
One one ticket, out the door with the rest
of the people still milling all over the town
Blending back in, another drunk faceless clown

A couple more hours and I was going home
To my wife and my dogs right where I belong
Wonder what the next night would hold
On a Sunday? Not much the truth be told

Night two was a contrast in black and white
Starkly different that yesterdays busy night
Making my laps and looking at faces
Glazed over by booze in the usual places

My ear was bent as I sat quiet thinking
By a businessman who had NOT been drinking
Venting about the local town councilmen
And decisions they'd made that had impacted him

He went on his way and I then saw a face
One that had not been seen lately in this place
Quick stories exchanged and then on his way
And to keep driving to finish my day

September 7, 2011 - 0415

These have been getting earlier as time goes on. Maybe I'm getting better at what I do. Naaaah, I don't think that's it. But it has been easy writing these past few poems. That's inspiring to me, since it wasn't exactly a walk in the park when I started.

I was another quiet night on the shift, with the excitement coming from outside the department. It wouldn't be proper for me to elaborate, but suffice it to say that there were smiles and jokes and lots of laughter at the station when I came in.

I decided to write a short ode to my shift and to police in general. If you're a police officer reading this, you can definitely relate to working the midnight shift, and coming home after a weekly rotation to the family.

Ode To Night Time Peacekeepers


I made it through another week
And though the bad guys I did seek
We only locked up two fair rogues
How many left, Bog only knows

The weather changing has an effect
Warm to cold means those who're wrecked
Don't walk or drive, but usually cab
Making working long and a boring drag

But I'm sworn to drive the streets
And wave and smile to those I meet
No matter wind or rain or cold
We tarry forth, forever bold

Warriors of the gold and blue
Upholding justice, standing true
Against potential chaos ringing
The law breakers their melee bringing

Fear and sadness to the folk
And towards this we go, though rains may soak
Or wind cut deeply to the bone
We fight the evil until it's done

And to our families loving arms
We settle to, where there is no harm
Only safety and warmth this perk
'Til the next nights unknown work

September 6, 2011 - 0415

This is a shorty, because there was only one stop all night. Granted, it ended with a DUI arrest but there was no one in town and no one to mess with. So here's a single limerick that covers the entire night.

One Stop, One Arrest


The night was slow and quite cold
And on one was out acting bold
One drove after drinking
Just what was he thinking
To the jail my partners car rolled

September 5 2011 - 0500

This is a twofer. I got a little busy last night (9/3-4) as you will read and ran out of time in my regular shift to write some verses. As it turned out, I had plenty of time, but I was tired and decided to combine yesterday and today. Today was typical. And by typical, I mean not a damn thing went on all night.

This form is called an English Quintain. It's five lines per stanza, with an easy to follow rhyme scheme and no syllabic meter. Makes for easy writing in the that respect, but not so much in the rhyming.

Two For The Price of One


My first night back and I was trapped
Long talking, but not saying a thing
I was tired, though I had napped
Hoping for info I let him sing
And his paranoia did not cling

After moving illegally parked cars I drove
Stopped two more hoping for a drinker
But nothing doing near our cove
One was cheerful, little stinker
The other a more solemn thinker

A simple drive then turned to chaos
Fighting men and lots of bleeding
What a scene to come across
An ambulance I was needing
Their medical advice he was not heeding

Difficulty finding someone
A day shifter called out ill
I stayed over myself, there was no one
The city doesn't foot the bill
I don't dip into their meager till

Tonight by contrast was a snore
A few people around but not many
Staying active became a chore
But cool air we had aplenty
The open windows they did help me

September 1, 2011 - 0400

This one is early, because I wrote it fast. No other reason, it just flowed this morning, despite the usual "there was nothing going on, blah blah blah". And it's a sonnet, in iambic pentameter too!

A Rosarian Sonnet to be exact. Easy and familiar rhyme scheme and the 10 syllable meter that we all know and love. I got out of the station pretty quickly tonight, only 75 minutes spent with my peer. It made him frustrated that I knew all of his stories before he told them to me. Of course that didn't prevent him from telling them all again, as well as rehashing his "theory" about how the department will be gone soon.

Summer Is Still Hanging On


My peer's paranoia is known in town
Despite what he says I still cannot frown
It's a warm night and I love what I do
He left fairly early as I went out
To check on the town, see who was about

The usual places were all lit up
Beer flowing but no DUI stops
The warm air made me uncomfortable too
September is supposedly the fall
Down my back, under armor, sweat did crawl

The end of my week, first one back in town
Stories were traded by them and by me
Good or bad this job is where I should be
Not much goes on here that can get me down

August 31, 2011 - 0500

When I knew I was coming back to my regular shift, I was excited. I like working midnights, and being up during the daytime killed my energy last week. I had no idea that the sun light and fresh air of the day time would do that to me, but it sure did. And now that I'm back...I'm remembering that night shift is a mostly long and boring process, occasionally punctuated by moments of excitement and terror.

But not tonight. It was a typical non-eventful night. Rain kept people away and most bars closed early. But I found a new form to entertain you with. And by new, I mean that this form was invented at the end of the 20th century. The Pleiades is the name of a group of stars, and the form. It can be done with no syllable count, six or seven syllables per line. The main part of the form is that there are only seven lines, and they all start with the same letter as the title, which is always one word. I did two to try out the freer form and the seven syllable variant.

Peaceful (No Syllable Count)

Pitter patter of rain drops on my car
Pleasing a sound as I needed
Pushing my tiredness away
Perfectly contrasting an empty town
Possibly I could find something to do
Preferably an arrest or car stop
Picking these is difficult on a slow night

Writing (7-Syllable)


When I had a spare moment
Words fell from my fingertips
Waiting was always my strength
What I needed were questions
Who I sent them to made sense
When I get them back, who knows
Wanting and wishing try me

August 30, 2011 - 0500

Night two after a week away and I am beat. Coupled with the four hours of actual sleep I got yesterday and I'm sincerely hoping that I can get home and to bed at a reasonable hour.

That being said, I took on a challenging style this morning. The Rhopalic Verse is a pretty neat set of words strung together. They are in syllabic order: 1,2,3... and so on if you're wordy and smart. I stuck to no more than four syllables and that was enough to give my mind a workout.

Difficult Words to Write Through the Yawning


A little maddening metropolis
This city aspires
Bars open expecting alcoholics
But nothing partaking

My slumber quietly interrupted
Four hours collected
My vision compounded
By yawning restlessness

A single vehicle
A simple citizen conversation
No ticket extended
One warning completed

August 29, 2011 - 1415

Well, I'm back. After a week away from the town and the nightly grind of the shift it's good to be back. I would have written something last night, but I had other important documents to draft. Like a memo for reimbursement for mileage and fuel to the tune of almost $500.00. And a total reworking of our departments firearms program. I learned in those five days, that if someone in my department shoots someone right now, we are totally screwed. And I am not going to be in that bag, so I used my down time to draft a new training curriculum. I'll do some more on it tonight but I should also be able to put some poetry out as well.

I'm not going to try and rehash what I did in that week of training, but instead focus on what I usually write about which is my every night encounters.

Welcome Back, Welcomed Back, Welcome, Back


I was warned by text before I even arrived
That my peer would be ranting long into the night
But when we arrived we were both pleased to see
That he'd taken time off and that I would be free.

So I drove all the streets and said my hellos
To the businesses and all of the people I know
Drunk boys and girls all wandered the walks
Interrupting my driving with slurred boozy talks

Then I was greeted by a new throbbing pain
Not wearing a gun belt had suddenly drained
my lower back muscles of all of their holding
Uncomfortable driving from the belt not molding

But I was reprieved by hours of writing
New training materials that I knew I'd be sighting
After learning that we as a department were lacking
And a single lawsuit would send all of us packing

August 19, 2011 - 0500

No poetry today. While disassembling my pistol at work for cleaning, the ejector broke off. Bad for the gun, but not so bad for the poetry, because other than this nothing happened all night. See you in a week.

August 18, 2011 - 0500

Tonight, I got to put to use some of my more advanced officer safety skills. And by that I mean, I made three subjects do as I said, when I said and put them at a distinct tactical disadvantage. I was quite proud of myself.

For a Wednesday/Thursday it wasn't too bad. Enough to keep us busy until around 0300, and then there was enough in the office to get me through until 0400. Then, it only took me 15 minutes to gather my thoughts and write out the Cavatina, which is tonight's style. While is says it was and is unpopular in England, I liked this one. The change in meter and unique rhyme sequence was fun and just challenging enough at 0400 to make me have to think about the next rhyme.

Mixed Bag Mid-Week


The night was calm as I drove through the town
It's a good thing
My partners stop did not come on the air
Made my head ring
Matching bracelets for unlicensed driver
Work makes me sing
And then three kids just laying in the street
Then after, fresh tomatoes make lunch sweet

August 17, 2011 - 0500

Another short week for me. I am taking off this Friday for Irishfest in Milwaukee, and then next week I am in training Monday through Friday. Firearms instructor class, woohoo!

But today was a fun style called a Monchielle Stanza. Four stanzas, five lines each, 6 syllables per line, and a rhyme in lines three and five. Simple. And here it is.

The Night Was Cool And Slow


The night was cool and slow
And I was set free quick
I drove 'round slow, silent
It was that kind of night
No cars or peds in it

The night was cool and slow
Midnight and I was out
The depot doors stood wide
But no one loitered in
Back to the dark I glide

The night was cool and slow
I hoped for more to see
But it was not my fate
Mid-week is quiet time
These I both love and hate

The night was cool and slow
And gave way to the morn
Stars faded; traffic grew
One more night of safety
One more that we got through

August 14, 2011 - 0500

The end of the work week brought a fairly slow night. And for a Saturday, that was a surprise. College students are starting to arrive in town now, and foot traffic is picking up as well. But so far, everyone is being good...for now.

Tonight I wrote a Goethe Stanza poem. It isn't so much the rhyme or meter, but the presentation. You will be able to see it easier than I could explain it.

Short Handed, Slow Night


It's good I worked, with a man out sick

Even though one could have handled the town
He'll burn himself like a candles wick

Busy, sick or slow...don't be a clown

He was so drunk he could barely stand

Blood dripping from a split elbow
Medics arrived and lent a hand

Where it happened he doesn't know

Form a residential caller a noisy party

I had to shut off my car to hear
A band far away was playing hearty

But were at a bar, no where near here

August 13, 2011 - 0515

This one is late for a couple of reasons. First, is that it covers two days. An eventful two days. And second is because it's fairly lengthy. I had to start a new Moleskine just to finish writing it out. Not that I filled 192 pages with this one, but I was almost at the end of my old one and this ran five pages.

The style is a Burns Stanza or Standard Habbie. Easy rhyme sequence and simple syllabic structure. And, with as much as I had to cover I needed something easy to follow.

Two Days Busy


We had a shift of three once more
Bars open late. What's in store?
We wonder walking out the door
It's slow until about half way
A drunk man peeing on a door
Caught dead to rights. Not much to say

Handcuffed and taken in a charged
In booking to the toilet barged
His bladder from the beer enlarged
In wallet found a gram of coke
The state was called about his charge
A felony is not a joke

His friend had fake ID in hand
Plans for leaving us were canned
"Stay with us" we did demand
A call to states attorney made
Transport them to Waukegan-land
To a gray jail cell I'm afraid

Two arrestees head to court
Me leave on time? I did abort
that idea. Day shift was short
Both were kept after judges call
I left for home and sleeping port
Almost 12 hours overall

Friday there were but two on shift
A full moon lets the crazies drift
And gives my tired bones a lift
That, and a large iced coffee drink
Lots of people through which to sift
Our first call put us on the brink

A business man. A fake ID.
The kid confronted tried to flee
With owner following angrily
He caught up, but by car was pulled
The car kept going down the street
And owner on the pavement rolled

They chased them down on motor-bikes
All streaking through the inky night
The young man trying to take flight
But wisely he did finally stop
We show up and arrest on sight
The joys of being a local cop

A bong and beer in car were found
Offender did not make a sound
When told the car would be impound
Three students all were in the car
Good schools, but no sense abound
They might be free had they gone to a bar

Kid one from Stanford college nigh
And two, from Berkeley, almost cried
Three was a Wisconsonite
He caught the charge that was most harsh
First two released to parents sighs
The third one given tickets charged

I tried my best to make the pinch
You'd think when busy it'd be a cinch
And drunks arrested in a clinch
But four stops got me nothing fast
I gave not even a inch
But luck tonight had long since passed

With five arrests in just three days
Those working a deserve some praise
Something more than a turn of phrase
They all were working as  a team
When young ones came and made their plays
All comes together like a dream

August 11, 2011 - 0500

Amazingly, it looks like my computer is going to cooperate for an on-time publish of today's poetry. Fingers crossed it will keep this up all week.

Tonight we had three guys working, which is a rarity around here lately. It's usually me and one other guy, so when I saw the extra it made me both smile and pensive. Extra man power is always welcome, but it also means I have no excuse to leave and back up the other officer. I'm stuck listening to my peer rant and rave about whatever is bugging him.

I captured the highlights in a rondel. Easy rhyme and syllable structure, unlike a traditional sonnet. Sonnets always give me fits, and I'm not sure why. But ones like this, which are close to a sonnet form, are no problem. The struggles of artists, I know.

Three On, First Night Back


At first it seemed a good idea
And is, when you just do your job
Ticket an ambulance? Let's be clear
That just makes you look like a knob

Outside you cannot have your beer
Not sober or a drunken slob
At first it seemed a good idea
And is when you just do your job

Be cool and you are out of here
Headed home, if you shut your gob
Felony charges hang on your cob
Off to county you'll go so clear
At first, it seemed a good idea

August 10, 2011 - 0930

Man, do I feel like a fool. I've been home and only had a few minor chores to take care of and I didn't even post what I had written...last week. Sorry about that everyone. I have it all written out and so here it is.

This is a poetry style called a Dizain. It's French in origin, and has a 10 line structure, 8-10 syllables per line and an easy to follow rhyme pattern. The one that I wrote is about another nice and busy night at work and the many wacky things I saw that night.

A Good Working Weekend


Multiple puking was first on the list
One guy, back and forth, in the dark alley
Another guy peeing could not be missed
Thought he was hidden down in a valley
Caught, his pants fell - there's no dilly-dally
My second drunk driver in as many nights
It makes me happy when none of them fight
He hit a parked car as he pulled over
Refused the breath test, 'cause he knows his rights
Nice enough guy, but also not sober

August 6, 2011 - 0500

Tonight was much, much better than the night before. There were lots of people all about, and they stayed for most of the night. This in turn, gave me lots of opportunity to make stops, talk to people, and eventually arrest someone. Which I did.

It was my second stop and I cashed in with it. The driver was pretty hammered, but mostly in control of himself. If only he'd turned on the headlights...

This is a Cyhydedd Fer Sonnet. There wasn't any real information regarding the origins, only the rhyme sequence. It's a set of eight rhyming couplets, with roughly eight syllables per line. Straight forward and easy.

Fun (For Me) Saturday Night


The weather was warm, made me sweat
Runs down my back where I can't get

The town was busy as could be
So I went out, a drunk to see

My first car stop had lights on high
She was sober, we said good bye

Second stop had no lights at all
Two times the limit; he took the fall

He was sent out into the night
And in my car I did take flight

My third stop was just simply lost
He went his way with laughter tossed

Nothing makes my night more cheery
Than arresting someone drunk and beery

August 5, 2011 - 0500

In a last ditch effort to get this out, here is some free verse I put down regarding slow nights. I know it's like hearing a stuck record, but most nights here go off without a hitch. Enjoy.

Thursday in 20 Lines


My usual coworker was off today
He keeps things interesting when here
His replacement is...adequate
But being part-time makes him reluctant to engage

A typical Thursday in our quiet town
Meaning a slooow first night back
My peer  bent my ear until one A.M.
I only got a two hour nap before work

One car stop yielded a student
Lost, but in control of his faculties
Second stop was more promising
But he was honest; and not drunk

I followed a drunk, shirtless man home
They usually pee somewhere along the way
He kept taking off and putting on his shirt
Nobody wanted to see that. No body.

Tomorrow night, Friday night, should be better
Busier town, more things moving, more potential
As long as things go smoothly I'll have fun
If there are problems, I will not be amused

August 2, 2011 - 0500

Looks like I'll actually get to publish twice in one day! *fingers crossed*

This set of lines is in the Spanish Quintain (Quintilla) style. Five lines in an eight syllable, set rhyme structure. Simple and classic. And not too bad to write in either.

I was told tonight that I was not to be trusted. This was third hand information, first spoken by a member of my department. He (I can say he, since we don't have any sworn female officers) is in such a mood lately that all of the command staff, of which I happen to be a part of, are out to harshly punish those in patrol. Not only that, since he's the only one who does any work, no one else is worthy either. He's a one man police department! It got me thinking about his attitude and what possible outcomes there could be from his attitude and actions.

Untrustworthy(?)


At work I am now an outcast
By one who thinks of wrongs done past
But I'm too new to feel his ire
His attitude makes others tire
If it keeps up he just won't last

Because I am the boss of some
I'm out to make punishment come
swiftly down on those below me
Everyone around here can see
His constant whining makes them numb

He's never happy here at work
And everyone thinks he's a jerk
If he could just go with the flow
And not make everything a show
Then being here would be a perk

I ignore him and keep growing
All the while I'm smiling, knowing
The more he acts like a big ass
Showing my boss he has no class
Out the door is where he's going

August 1, 2011 - 0500

Actually, August 2, 2011 at about 0150. Sometimes, things get in the way. Like life away from the streets. A couple of days off were complicated by at-home repairs that came out of the blue and needed immediate addressing. These have been taken care of, and we are all much happier at home for it.

Also, it seems that Google/Blogger have decided to let me publish today. Or my desktop is feeling generous. Either way, here it is from last night.

Looking to southeast Asia, we find a style called the Ya Du. It has a simple, Haiku-like structure, with a staircase rhyme sequence that is both fun and challenging. This one gives another look at what really doesn't go on in our town on a Sunday night.

Hot Days, Slow Nights, Back to Work


Lots of email for me
My four days seemed long
But these were hot days
My Ways were too short
And when I return there's nothing to report

Driving in the slow town
Deep sweat frown on faces
AC down. I understand.
We'll hand over money soon
Hoping for relief tomorrow afternoon.

July 27, 2011 - 0500

I missed a few days. There was paperwork to do, a change in schedule for a couple of days (me, working afternoon shift). The towns annual festival prompted the schedule change, which meant that I had no real time to write anything down and put it here for the world to see.

But now I'm back on midnight's, where my time is my own and my desk is cluttered with my personal crap. Yippee! And what to dedicate this weeks set of poems to? How about the blues? Looking at a list of poetry forms, there is one called the Blues Stanza. We all know the blues, in one way or another. This form has an easy rhyme structure and no real meter. But like a man in a movie once said, the blue ain't nothin' but a good man feelin' bad. So why stick to a set meter when you don't want too.

My personal blues consists of working all night with nothing to do, being away from my wife and dogs all night, lack of energy during my waking time. The usual midnight shift police officer laments.

The Usual Po-Liceman Blues

Workin' all night, in a slow boring town
Just puttin' miles on a car, drivin' all around the town
When there's nothin' to do, it can get a good man down

My wife is at home, she worries about me so
My job can be dangerous, it makes her worry so
Knowing that she's alone at night, makes me feel so low

My two dogs, are wonderin' where I'm at
Sleepin' and dreamin', and thinkin' 'bout where I'm at
I wish I could be with them, pettin' and feedin' them 'til they're fat

Whenever I'm home, I seem grumpy and always tired
Six hours of sleep a day, keeps me perpetually tired
In a drowsy haze, my brain feels always mired

There's no other job, in the world I'd rather do
I'd change some things, at this job that I love to do
But even with all of these bad things, it's really hard for me to feel blue

July 20, 2011 - 2045

I know it's late, but better late than never. I didn't have time to get my thoughts on paper last night, due to finalizing a project at work. You remember, the whole golf cart thing we were tasked with. It's done, but at the regular publishing time.

Limerick Day Three. We had a double encounter at the same house. Crazy, with crazy spouse, helped out by alcohol. All on a hot summer night. Terrific combo if you ask me. And a call from a psychiatrist as well. Geesh!

Crazy From the Heat

If you call the police it's okay
We'll be there at night or in day
But mixing your meds
With booze makes you dead
And a hearse will come speed you away

If we ask you a question be straight
I'm at work only when late
If you lie I get mad
And then you'll be sad
When detained my guts you will hate

July 19, 2011 - 0500

It was another sweltering night. And being Monday/Tuesday, a lot of the businesses were closed, leaving only a couple of bars open to attract our attention. And one in particular did a few times tonight.

Day two of Limerick week gives us three sets showcasing our work this evening.

Limericks on A Hot Summer Night


When your threats to harm yourself fails
And your family becomes hard as nails
You can cut out the crying
Your angst I'm not buying
In the ambulance the sirens do wail

The heat and humidity rise
And clouds were high in the skies
People stayed in
And traffic was thin
Though we both did try and try

A girl all alone in a car
Was seen earlier outside the bar
Sober and safe
This young female waif
Had traveled with strangers afar

July 18, 2011 - 0500

First off: it's hot. 85 degrees at 0410, and it's starting to rain a little. Sure, why not add to the humidity. Second: I apologize for no post last Thursday, but that was my wedding anniversary. Four years ago I married the most wonderful woman ever. We had sushi, I was given the night off. It was a nice evening. And therefore I wasn't up at 0400 to write to you.

This week will be limerick week. A five line, usually humorous, often vulgar or obscene, set of lines, originating in my ancestral homeland, Ireland. I disagree that they should always be vulgar, or even humorous. Who's to really say that a limerick can't be clean. Or that it can't depict a serious situation or theme? It's true though, the raunchy ones are usually the funniest.

For tonight's rhymes, all you have to know about the night is that it was very hot and humid, the parties involved had been drinking, and to never, ever, waste electricity.

Laundry Limerick


Late night heat and warm beer makes one crazy
But doing laundry means you're not lazy
But if you don't close the door
You'll get knocked to the floor
And the rest of your thoughts will be hazy

July 14, 2011 - 0500

Sonnet, day three. Today is a Curtal Sonnet. 10 lines, divided six and four with a decent rhyme structure. It's like the title says, same story in a new form.

More importantly, it's my wedding anniversary. Four years ago I married the best woman ever, and I'm looking forward to many, many more.

Brand New Form, Same Old Story


The car I saw had textbook drunkard look
He'd had no booze, the schnook
I drove on, looking for a drinker
Thinking of my golf car project tinker
The whole thing's a stinker
Another thing they want by hook or crook

I put some thoughts on paper as best I could
And when it's done they will make their choice
As if we had no voice
And we will soldier on, as well we should

July 13, 2011 - 0500

Day two of the sonnet week, and I have a Petrarchan sonnet for your entertainment. This was not too difficult, but not exactly a walk in the poetry park either. I wanted to stay close to the structure, and needed to only use five rhymes, which I was able to do. But not without a lot of thought as to what I could do in those 14 lines.

It's still on my desk to come up with arguments against a new local ordinance. I know what I want to say, but at 0230 or 0300 when I'm actually at my desk it's not so easy to articulate those thoughts into written words. I have a couple of weeks before it's to be presented, but I want to have something done for review before my next days off. Shouldn't be too difficult, I just have to concentrate earlier in the shift.

My Worries On Writing


I write my words and I make them rhyming
This is my down time fun that is easy
It's hidden from the ones who see me
When I write them I can hear bells chiming

But now a project sits upon my desk
To help shoot down an ordinance in my town
My words are failing me. It makes me frown.
That I can't send these babies from the nest

But, I will carry on and keep my pen
to paper, and I'll give it my best
New words hatch as I send them from the nest

And when it's over, I'll sit and wonder when
the next time I'll put my words to the test
Then, like now, I hope I can give my best

July 12, 2011 - 0500

This week will be the sonnet week. All four will be in various styles of the classic poetry form. Always go with what works.

Monday are usually slow, as I've mentioned before. But tonight was particularly so. A strong storm came through in the morning but the power was all on and no real damage around town. When I checked my e-mail after the bars had closed I found a message from the chief, asking me to help with a presentation for the city. We are going to present information against allowing golf carts on city streets. I can see the downside of it, I just hope that we can convey that to the 9 members of the council.

Electric Conveyence Concerns


It's hard to think what I've been asked to do
Another senseless waste of city time
It's not that I'm too busy. That's not true.
But the silliness boarders on a crime

Who would want to drive a golf cart in town
A place where booze is the entertainment?
Just thinking of the trouble makes me frown
But we have the time to head this off yet

Two weeks to find all that we can about
the laws that we soon would face
I wonder if the chief and I have clout
enough to put this in it's proper place

I hope we end this long before it starts
For I see trouble brewing at it's heart

July 9, 2011 - 0500

Friday into Saturday. There were a lot of people milling about the sidewalks and streets all night, up until the bars closed. Fortunately no one was hit by a car, including mine although there were some close calls.

I think I've done free verse all four days this week. Next week I'll pick a different style and run with it for four  days. Enjoy the weekend

Nicely Un-Busy


When you're drunk and walking I commend you
But don't walk in front of my car too
It makes me worry that you're not okay
Please use sidewalks. Live another day

A call to us about a potential problem
Is he drunk or sick? My partner talk to him
He gives two samples, both times zeroes
Police and just ill, he calls us both heroes

Only the police get to have blue lights
But this Mustang I've seen on several nights
This evening our paths finally meet
Unlicensed driver ended up in my backseat

Moms big Lincoln had a bad alarm
Other than loud it caused no real harm
Unhooking the battery ended the sound
And she left her moms car in our now quiet town.

July 8, 2011 - 0500

Thursdays aren't exactly powerhouses of entertainment and excitement around my small town. Tonight was no different. We do get the odd busy Thursday, but for the most part it's a quiet day before the weekend starts.

I had a guy I really like working with for half the shift, and one that is fine but frustrated with his situation for the second half of the shift. With no calls for service, only one traffic stop and barely anyone out it made for a long night. And so I went with something unstructured for this one.

No Surprises Here


I'd like to say that I was shocked when he wasn't at work on time...
But I wasn't

I'd like to say that his replacement wasn't adequate...
But he was

I'd like to say that we stopped everything that moved...
But we didn't

I'd like to say that there was stellar radio reception...
But there wasn't

I'd like to say that I don't like my job when it's this slow...
But I do

July 7, 2011 - 0500

Another nice, quiet night. It was more empty in the bars in town than it was during the winter when the weather was crap. It makes for a long night, but it was a good contrast from the first two days of the last week.

I went free verse tonight.. Short, sweet and to the point.

Random Night Time Items


Our empty town is easy to patrol
When no one is here was can keep in under control

There was a brief moment early in the night
When I scrambled to find a copper to work in the light

After several calls a replacement was found
The only one who answered his telephone sound

There was some humor later as I drove my car
Windshield wipers on, though the rain was very far

And our only human contact of our slow eve
Was a drunk angry man whom we had to threaten to make leave

A few more laps and then I had my lunch
A hearty meal to end my night with a crunch

July 6, 2011 - 0500

Here's hoping that the holiday weekend treated everyone well. Apart from the illegal setting off of fireworks in our neighborhood, ours was nice and relaxing. Of course, it wasn't the dogs who were worked up about the explosions...it was me. I have never liked fireworks, or loud noises of any kind. Really kind of funny, given my profession and that soon I will be one of my departments firearms instructors. We all have our things that we don't like, no matter how irrational or strange it may seem.

I went with a refrain poem today. A repeated line or phrase throughout the entire thing. Today's is about slow nights in my small town.

Not Much To Do


I arrived at work to sick slip waiting
     The town is dead tonight
Shift not covered and laziness I'm hating
     The town is dead tonight
Taken care of straight away
     The town is dead tonight
12 hours for those whom the city will pay
     The town is dead tonight
One car stopped but no arrest
     The town is dead tonight
An alarm at a business, and no fire is the best
     The town is dead tonight
A second car stopped and the driver is hooked
     The town is dead tonight
His car was towed and he was booked
     The town is dead tonight
As a second alarm call pierces the night
     The town is dead tonight
Still no fire, and that's quite alright
     The town is dead tonight
It sure doesn't help me to stay awake
     The town is dead tonight
But on a first night back it's what I'll take
     When the town is dead at night

July 3, 2011 - 0500

It's the end of my work week. Warm, humid, and a town filled with crazy drunkards. Or as I call them, job security.

As I was driving around near the time that the bars close, I began to reflect on what I had seen, smelled, heard, etc., throughout the night. And this list poem is a short recalling of the things that assaulted my senses in the first half of my shift tonight. The link isn't exactly what I was looking for, but the opening paragraph gives a good definition of list poetry.

What My Senses Sensed


What I Saw Tonight:
 - drunks on bicycles
 - puddles of puke
 - arguing idiots
 - putting up their dukes

What I Heard Tonight:
 - yelling and screaming
 - fireworks popping
 - beer bottles breaking
 - flower pots dropping

What I Smelled Tonight:
 - lots of perfume
 - burnt gunpowder
 - sweat and anger
 - and, I think, clam chowder

What I Tasted Tonight:
 - ice cold water
 - humid night air
 - and occasional hints
 - of little dog hair

What I Felt Tonight:
 - sweat under armor
 - cool breeze in my "hair"
 - happy for my Friday
 - and that my Baby will be here

July 2, 2011 - 0520

It's been said many times before, better late than never. I got called away from my desk for a couple of things, one fairly serious but not originating in my fair city, and the other not as much. But I'm back at the pen and i bring you my words.

In my few lines of the evening I use alliteration in tercet form. It's just what popped into my head, and seemed to work for me.

Tercets of Tumult
        -or-
Slow Sultry Summer Song


I slip and slide silently on the streets
My car completely a clone of other carriages
Nothing of note nearly all night

By and by boobery begins
Musical missionaries migrate to my town
For a drunken debauch in dim and darkened bars

Ruffians ran readily whenever I arrive
My attention attuned to their actions
Not that they'd noticed me near by

My offer to allow them to orate or explain themselves ignored
Later: Stop sign! Surprise! We spoke and then split
A simple citation certainly, but not needed

Time ticked by tentatively, too slowly for me
A bistros barrier was breached by the breeze
Lazy last leavers left unlocked. We looked and then left.

July 1, 2011 - 0500

It was said to me that, if I were still in patrol I would have made my month all in about three hours tonight. But I'm not, so I didn't. And even if I were still "just a patrolman", I wouldn't let up just because I made two grabs in one night.

I went off the top of my head with this one. Basic free verse for your reading enjoyment. And now, back to my mountain of paperwork.

Three Hours, Two Arrests, One Happy Guy


Windy and warm we set out to find
Someone to lock up who wouldn't mind
if we smile and joked the night away
As long as they got some time to play

The first car I saw ran two signs
In front of the school I come to find
that they are headed home to rest
No DUI yet. I tried my best

My second stop was a righteous bust
Speeding and weaving were only just
two of the charges out of the three
that I wrote to the guy in his Mercedes

While waiting for a tow truck to com
I felt a certain radio hum
My phone ran out from a bouncers call
Assistance was needed, someone had to fall

Caught with the coke, he made up a name
But we soon were on to his pitiful game
Prints do not lie and he was charged thus
And this is why sometimes I have little trust

This flurry of action would normally take weeks
When summertime is at it's very peak
But tonight it all happened within three hours
My night was made. Some others will be sour

June 30, 2011 - 0500

I'm back, and I'm in a Zen sort of place. My peer, the other lieutenant, is on vacation for the next three weeks. This means that I am now the #2 in charge of the entire department. Big responsibility? In a place this small, not really but it's still pretty cool in my mind to think about.


I used a variety of styles to describe my night. First is a limerick regarding the aforementioned vacation. Next is a Séadna, an Irish style that I managed to follow pretty closely. Next is an example of irony in poetry. And Finally, a bit of free verse about my sudden elevation in status.


Vacation Limerick


When my peer is anxious to leave
I wonder what's up his sleeve
His vacation started
Our ways quickly parted
And no one around here will grieve


Drunken Banger Séadna


Entering the bar for trouble
Two frequent fliers made the call
It had to hurt them, these "hard" men
Though small, in the fen of booze we went


24/7-11 Irony


Original hours were seven to eleven
Now 24 hours is the norm
How can I purchase my icy heaven
When the doors are locked on your orange-green dorm?


Second In Charge Verse


The second man in the department is I
Not the first time and certainly not the last
I go about my business and barely try
And those who work with me are having a blast

June 27, 2011 - 0500

As I wrapped up my work week, I figured it would be an uneventful Sunday night into Monday morning. It started out that way, but when we finally made it out onto the streets I was surprised at what I saw.

This morning is the classic sonnet, with a slightly altered rhyme structure. I didn't start out to make any changes, but ended up switching a couple things around and I like how it turned out. I'm sure there's a name for the type of sonnet written, but I have no idea what it would be.

Rare Sight Sonnet


My talk ran over with partner and peer
They debated and I just did not care
When we got out there was no one there
Except for a girl with eyes like a deer

She swayed from the booze on the low sidewalk
Boyfriend and her were just standing outside
Next to the street as if waiting to ride
She dropped her pants and I jerked to a stop

Boys pee outside, but girls do so rarely
Partner handcuffed her and took her to jail
Cursing and crying her ticket of fail
Called racist, she left. Laughs held in barely

The night finished slow. The paperwork done
Only early in shift did we have any fun

June 26, 2011 - 0510

I did the best that I could tonight. I stopped cars, I talked to people, but it was not meant to be for me. I'm not upset, because someone got arrested. I just wish I could have caught them.

I also attempted to write tonight's poem in the dactyl style. Again, I did the best that I could, but I started to fall asleep while hand writing this one, so if it isn't in the exact syllabic form, it wasn't for lack of trying. But, poetry to me isn't "sticking to the form". It's expressing what you want with words.

UNTITLED (Dactyl)


All for nil. I made my rounds
Along the streets in my town

Hunting for me doesn't mean guns
Catching a drunk is my fun

Tail lights and tires spin - all for nil
By the third stop, I've had my fill

Calling in drunks after they've left
Does not make me give your next call heft

One arrest made, drunk driver caught
Car towed, him processed , then forgot

I stop for a "fight" but away they run
They did not want to to join their fun

June 25, 2011 - 0500

What a night. It started off slowly, and built up into a crescendo of drunken boobery. Well, not too bad really. But there were lots of drunks around tonight. I saw a lot of people as I drove in, mainly sitting on the sidewalks. Something about it seemed...not right. And after a couple of minor contacts we had ourselves a full on rockin' good time at the end.

Tonight's form is the Japanese style known as senryu. Similar to haiku, but more concerned with humans and their nature, rather than nature itself. It's supposed to run about 17 syllables total in the three lines, but I know I fudged a couple of them. And I wrapped up with a haiku.

(with apologies to Elton John)


Saturday Nights All Right


People are fragile
I almost hit two crossing
Made one cry

Giant truck hits a curb
Eight girls inside, seven are drunk
It's not her real car

I saw him stumbling
Then I saw him peeing
I saw ALL of him for Pride

More fragile people
Crossing the tracks where others died
Be careful this night, and later

Fight at a bar
We're there within moments
One taken away

Down with the one, another
Second fight, same bar
I begin to hate that place

Suspect released, no charge
The "victim" started it all
Trampy sister was the source

The sky is clearing
Today should be a nice day
And yet, I must sleep

June 24, 2011 - 0500

Well, I'm back. I had notes from the first day of my shift which I was working on when I ran out of time. Then there was day two, involving two DUI arrests, felony drug charges, and tons of fun for all involved. I ended up staying late that morning, even though I don't get paid overtime and I was officially on vacation that day. But there was work to be done and I did what I could to see it through.  All of that being said, I have nothing from either of those two days. There was too much going on and then I was away from work and out of state for four days.

Now tonight was my first night back from vacation and it was completely uneventful. Power outages kept most of the real fools away, leaving us with mere simple fools to observe.

Return From My Past


Very little happened while I was away
Although we like to think we are needed
Clearly, when we're gone things barely sway
And when our off time is depleted
Then we're back to work that day
In hopes that criminal oats weren't seeded
Over the town where children play
Next to parks and trees, and parents heeded

Overwhelmed by mail and paperwork
Vexed peer rambles about all things
Everyone ignores his words, yet there I lurk
Right in the door; my head...it rings

Because of storms the town is empty now
A matter of the power being out
Certainly this kept the drunkards out of town
Knowing this is why makes me mentally shout

Taking laps of my businesses and bars
Only so many times, yet I've traveled far

With head lights high we stopped to chat
Only a bit of English was able to be spoken
Reaching in I lower them; that was that
Knowledge that I'm at work with time unbroken

June 18, 2011 - 0530

Due to circumstance beyond my control, that is to say, busy as hell and couldn't even catch up with email until right now, there will be no poetry tonight. I have made my notes, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. Until then, I bid you adieu.

June 15, 2011 - 0500

It's the last day of my shift, which if you've been paying attention gives you a decent idea of my schedule. It really isn't that difficult to figure out when I work.

Being a Tuesday into Wednesday made for a pretty serene night. Only one call all night, and it was so close to the station that I walked there and made it in under 2 minutes. And the weather was still nice enough that I didn't even mind the brief bit of exercise. The verses are limericks. Enjoy them, as I enter into and enjoy my weekend.

Last Day Limericks


When he's in a good mood it's sure showing
The outcome we all are now knowing
He still doesn't know
What was said is no-no
But he's taking the deal to keep going

To argue with barkeep is just silly
When the people all run willy-nilly
He won't make a stink
If you just stop and think
That at 1am it can be a bit chilly

The doors were unlocked and wide open
For a burglar neither were hopin'
With guns drawn we looked
But we found not one crook
And the owner was happy we were both in

June 14, 2011 - 0520

I like Mondays. My work week isn't a regular 9-5 Monday through Friday sort of thing. Mondays are actually pretty slow and usually uneventful. The troublesome bar is closed, most folks have to work and aren't out causing a ruckus. It's a nice break from the Friday/Saturday extravaganza that precedes it.

I attempted a doggerel tonight. Not a set meter or rhyme, but it's a semi-humorous set of verses about our Monday and small town policing.

Doggerel Attempt #1


Afternoon shift had three cars
The midnight shift two and open bars
No matter for us, we work the same
Safely ending a late night ball game

Driving the town and parking lots
Used to seeing events where I say "Whaaat?!"
A vacationing pee'er behind a bar
Instead of inside, he'd pee'd on a car

Back to the beer and bowls of nuts
Inside of the building, drunken putz
The rest of my night was spent in peace
Cause tomorrow he's back, and all that will cease

June 12-13, 2011 - 0515

Wow. That's all I can really say. Yesterday was busy from the jump off. Call after call and person stop after person stop and car stop after car stop. It all added up to my not being able to write anything down in verse form, only in notes on a Post-it. But now, here it all is, covering two days.

By request, this is a semi-epic poem written in as close to iambic pentameter as I could manage.

Epic Saturday Epic


Gather round children and hear my story
Of three men, then two, all bound for glory
Well, maybe not glory but loads of fun
With action for all o'er hither and yon

As I and he spoke all about crashes
Suspicious cars drove away like flashes
Southern folks partied well into the night
'Til coppers showed up and gave them a fright

But then comes a call, a man who is armed
Brandished a dagger, yet no one was harmed
Description goes out. We canvass the town
As we looked high and low, he was not found

We drive slow laps with our eyes wide open
To catch the rogue man was what we were hopin'
And standing by office were three young men
Not knowing the trouble they'd soon be in

With a snort and a sneer as I drove by
The wrong thing for them was to catch my eye
Stood up, patted down and riot act read
We tried to talk sense into their young heads

One was familiar, a call from last week
Into his turmoil we'd had a peek
We shooed them away; no time for these kids
Packs on their backs, on their heads crooked lids

I drove and I saw a car with no lights
Hoping for drunkard to make my young night
Wrong tags on car, and he stopped to the left
Just a kid. The car from his folks, a gift

After lecture I sent the young one home
To the safety of family well known
Back to my town to hunt still on-going
What was left for us? We were not knowing

I was north, it south. Faster than needed.
Right without stopping, 'til my lights pleaded
And up on the curb the tires did stop
I smelled weed and booze under hair like mop

Laughing and crying she did all my tests
At the end in my handcuffs she did rest
The sticky bud found in false snakeskin bag
With liquor a cause for her judgement lag

Refusal of test and she's out the door
The paperwork piling up more and more
And the calls keep coming without a stop
Running us ragged; we thought we'd drop

from the nights busy pace and no lunchtime
With open door called from neighboring town
Called off before showing up at the door
A very late meal. I wished there were more

The next night, so calm. It was very nice
Repeats on some rummy's did make me smile
No calls for knives or weapons this evening
Only two cars stopped, while they were leaving

If this is our summer it should be fun
We'll be safe and be strict with everyone
People will know that in our little town
That jail's where you go when acting the clown