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