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

June 9, 2011 - 0505

As promised, I tried to stick to the full on rules and structure of an Irish poetry style. Oh my sweet FSM what an ordeal. I give much respect to those who can write in the styles of Ireland all the time, because it's not easy. I felt my eyes crossing more than once as I penned tonight's Rionnaird Tri-Nard.

It was a dark and stormy night. Suddenly, my afternoon shift counterpart left without the usual tirade about something. But we still had a few things to do, despite the rain.

Rainy Town, Quiet Night


Rain fell hard with winds high
I sat to wait for he
No talking time for me
Heads for home; we were free

Young man makes mother sad
Dad was also angry
Counselled kid; think ahead
of others. Mom thanks me

Walking/driving downtown
No one out, all is well
I do tell, drunks are Hell
None to tell, in our dell

June 8, 2011 - 0510

As I looked at the form for tonight's poem, I realized something - I haven't really followed the form factor of the Irish poetry very well. I kept to the syllable count and as close to the rhyme scheme as I could. But with the one I picked for today I really saw just how complex my ancestors were with their poetry. I'll be trying to stick more closely to these forms in the future.

That being said, it was another very warm, very quiet night. 80+ degrees again around midnight and nobody out to talk too, except each other. So I went for a walk and found a couple of open doors. Fun fun. I documented these with a Rannicheacht Bheag. When I saw the form laid out in x's and o's, so to speak, it really looked like a Haiku, hence the title.

A Kind of Irish Haiku


Overnight shift left me sweating
Humidity we fight
Quiet night. No car stops getting
Nothing here overnight

Warriors stood, telling their tales
Slow. I was curious
For something to do. Action hails
and calls to warriors

Businesses are checked by my shift
Walking we find doors ajar
Two at one time, their minds adrift
This makes for bad business

June 7, 2011 - 0500

It was hot yesterday and into the night. When I got to work at 2230, it was still 85 degrees. And Now, at almost 0500, it's still in the high 70's. It doesn't make for a pleasant night in uniform and body armor. But there was still some action, and a new part time officer on afternoon shift. He was fun, almost a cartoon character of a police officer. And a fun drunk driving arrest as well.

Continuing from yesterday's Irish theme, today we have a Rannaicheacht Gheirid. More structured than the first Celtic poem, this one has a syllabic structure and rhyme sequence that while easy, gave enough of a challenge to be fun to write.

DUI Rannaicheacht Gheirid


The new guy
Isn't really new or shy
He's fun and funny to me
Cigar was big. Hair, bye-bye.

Warm tonight
I drive without a moonlight
Windows down, A/C up
Making sure that all was right

They passed me
Red truck, black car I did see
It would not stop for police lights
Thankfully, he did not flee

Drunk, drunk man
Disheveled hair and face tan
We watched you dance the drunk dance
With a warrant from The Man

Missed your day
And then the warrant your way
Three thousand cash from your wife
The money stacked high like hay

June 6, 2011 - 0500

Sundays around my small town are usually quiet and I can catch up on some reading and general administrative work. It being my first night back however, I was expecting to be cornered for some time by the other supervisor here, as he generally stays about 1 1/2 hours after his regular shift. He was not in, and therefore I was able to get out rather quickly, and good thing too, be cause it started off like gangbusters.

I decided to break away from classical Greek/Roman more well known poetry styles, and travel to the Emerald Isle. Being very proud of my Irish roots, I wondered what the style of Irish poets was like. It's actually pretty easy, with tonight's being an "Ae Freslighe". No rhyme pattern, just seven syllables per line, and the first word had to be repeated at the end of the poem as the last word.

Local Town Ae Freslighe


Counterpart was off tonight
He took the day and stayed home
I knew now what to do then
The night was free for myself

Quiet shattered by a call
Two men, one with a gun
Mere moments from the station
Both found, but there was no gun

Both men were known to us all
One sober and one was drunk
Happy that there was no gun
We sent them on their journeys

One bar was busy all night
Party and party and more
Oaken Coin had the people
Yet we had no calls there

When they closed is when they called
Hit and run in the back lot
Minor damage by unknown
car, who was seen but then left

Report in hand, we left there
I pulled on doors to stay up
Nothing unlocked, all secure
I went to check the train lots

Three young people in the north
Dropped off by cab waited there
Next train was in four hours
They were fine to stand out there

Last contact was with a cop
From a town too far away
for me to go visit there
We chatted, and then parted

For a Sunday it kept pace
And we stayed fairly active
This is what happens for me
And not for my counterpart

June 3, 2011 - 0500

The end of my work week wrapped up with a long tirade from a peer regarding telephone books, gang graffiti, drunken boobery and almost left behind friends.

The poetry style ghazal is from Urdu/Arabic, and usually centers around lost or unrequited love. In my verses, it's about my work night, the people I work with and the people we deal with on a nightly basis. There isn't a set meter, but all of the couplets must have the same meter. The rhyme sequence is easy to follow, with the last word from the first couplet being repeated throughout.

Midnight Shift Ghazal


I wanted to go. But escape was not on my table.
Trapped by an angry peer, as I leaned against a table.

Two hours plus had passed. I wanted just to hit the street
Yet there he stayed on, resting his feet upon a table

When he left I checked the park and found graffiti out there
Local gangs had made their mark upon a child play table

Initials, star and pitchfork drawn in paint as black as dusk
Added to others drawn in the park on wall and table

I cleared and drove in rain that fell for only half an hour
The drops fell and left their touch on window and on table

The rain stopped and the bars let out putting drunks on the street
We stopped one bending trees. My car's hood served as a table

We sent drunk and his friends away. They promised to be good
Drunk girl at depot sat. Using her legs like a table

Her friend arrived to take her home. Rescued from the cold night
Lunch and coffee for us. But not on a fancy table.

June 2, 2011 - 0510

It was another long, slow night in town. I started with about 20 miles on the trip odometer from the previous two days, and ended with almost 50. There were no calls for service until around 0430, when a local resident who can be described as "mentally interesting" decided that it would be a good idea to annoy the upstairs neighbors. I brought this all together with a series of haikus.

Wacky Neighbor Haikus

1) The night seemed too long

Even though it was eight hours

It lasted all night

2) Radio was dead

All night I drove and waited

Nothing. Until late

3) Neighbors in dispute

Are they noisy or quiet?

I know they are quiet

4) Meanings of dizzy

Going round in circles

Or acting crazy

5) Constant bell ringing

Drives good people to call us

Please, don't act crazy

6) Soon, we will catch her

We've all had more than enough

She will be locked up

June 1, 2011 - 0505

The year is now about half over, and the weather seems to have taken a definite spring/summer turn. It's nice enough that I don't feel bad about wearing short sleeves at work. I can drive with the windows down and it's comfortable. Even though we weren't busy with calls, we did manage to get out of the car and amuse ourselves with a walkabout in the apartments in town.

I'm starting off the new month with some free verse.

Nice Night For A Walk, If You Can Get It


Another weather perfect night, out of so many crappy ones
Nice night for a walk, if you can get it
Better than the night before, I drove with windows down
Nice night for a walk, if you can get it
It still wasn't bad when the guard flagged me over
Nice night for a walk, if you can get it
Gang related graffiti, was I surprised? Not at all
Nice night for a walk, if you can get it
We held off on the full tour until after the bars closed
Nice night for a walk, if you can get it
And I had a talk with some people that I know
Nice night for a walk, if you can get it
Watching a drunk cross the tracks, so I stopped him
Nice night for a walk, if you can get it
He gave us information on his own, on a whim
On our stroll through apartments old and new we got our share
Of graffiti, sweat, piss, tortillas and despair
But, all in all, it was a nice night for a walk, if you can get it