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