April 17, 2012 - 0500

This is another poetry prompt from the My Word Wizard site. As a Marine, it made me feel a little bit more pride to read a few months ago that the term "Former Marine" is considered obsolete. There are no "Former Marines", only Marines. In my mind however, there are "ex-Marines", and they are the ones who have disgraced the Marine Corps in some way. The ones who don't deserve the title that they once earned.

Disgraced


The term was an ugly one
To one that had been once so highly regarded
From a long line of heroes
He was to be stricken

Jason was an ex-Marine
He no longer could claim the title
That he'd sung about in boot camp
That had been bestowed upon him on Parris Island

He carefully folded the blue coat
Neatly placed in a case with glimmering buttons
Shiny badges
Rows of ribbons and medals

All earned in service to his country
But now, only a short time later
He could not bring himself to look
At his past glory

He closed the case
He turned away, and towards his new life
One that he didn't want to return to
The life of an ex-Marine

April 10, 2012 - 0500

Our good poetry friends at My Word Wizard have been posting poetry prompts and I see them in my Twitter feed. I think to myself, "I should do some of those. They would be creative ways to get the word flow up." So, I took a look at one or three of them, and here's what the results are.

The Junk Hunger

Marlon was addicted to it

The junk consumed him every time he

Jabbed the needle into his thin arms

Into his collapsing veins

Marlon was addicted to it

The plunger pressed sent him

Over the edge. Further away

The plunger plunged him into the abyss

Marlon was addicted to it

He'd rob you for it

He'd steal things for it

There was nothing he wouldn't do

For it. Marlon was addicted to it

It was his first thought with the sunrise

It was his last though with the moon rise

It was, frankly, his only thought

Marlon was addicted to it

The way it made his hands swell

The way it made his head droop

The way it made him feel...alive

Marlon was addicted to it

There was no turning away from it

It was to late for that

Oh yes, much too late for that

Marlon was addicted to it

He knew that one day

It would kill him. But he was fine with that

As long as It was what killed him

April 3, 2012 - 0500

This one is about our dog, Fiona. Fiona is a fawn colored greyhound that we rescued from a nearby dog track. She's 5 years old, and still plays with the carefree abandon of a puppy. She occasionally growls and barks, while throwing her toys in the air. She will follow me or my wife around the house, always wondering what we are up to and if there is a possible treat in the making. She's goofy and rambunctious and we love her dearly.

Puppy Love

I love you because you're crazy

I love you because you're calm

I love you because you comfort me

When I wake up scared from a storm

I love you when you snuggle next to me

I love you when you lay quietly by yourself

I love you when you're head is on my lap

And your tongue leaves its mark on my pants

I love you when you're ears are standing up

I love you when your tail wags in circles

I love you when you smile with your doggie teeth

Looking mean to those who don't know any better

I love your furry little head

I love your fuzzy little feet

I love to scratch your little tum

And feel the fur under my fingertips

There's nothing like your small, warm head

Resting gently on my knee

Reminding me that all is fine

No matter what the world has done