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

May 22, 2011 - 0510

I'm not sure what to call tonight's verses. It's kind of a song, kind of an ode, kind of a lyric poem. Hmm... You're all grown folks, you can decide for yourselves.

There were lots and lots of pickled pedestrians out tonight, and I quickly found out why. Fortunately, they were all good people just out for a good time.

It Wasn't So Bad, This Night


Driving in was fine, no worries about my night
My town was fairly busy, with lots of cars in sight
I noticed groups of people on the sidewalks to and fro
Wondering to myself I ask "Where can these drunkards go?"

After changing from my day to eve I wandered up the stairs
The afternoon shift sat un-tensed, the work no longer theirs
I asked about the people out, and why there were so many
The answer that I got shown bright, just like a brand new penny

Pub Crawl

There were pods of eight to ten, with one the sober driver
He was spotted in the group, a sad and bitter sight there
Or if they all were drinking deep, a car they did not use
The taxi men made all their money from the denizens of booze

Pub Crawl

Alas all things come to an end, and this was no exception
Two hours past the witching bells was like a post-convention
Streets and walkways that once held many now were cold and bare
Power walkers and power drinkers had left the city fair

Pub Crawl

I drove the town all up and down until I could no more
Stopping in at a pub that's safe I talked to people at the door
At one time they'd had a century's worth of happy drunken faces
Now the bar stools all sat empty, here and at other places

Pub Crawl

To my right I heard the voices, shrill and slurred with drink
"I'll drive my car!" and "No you won't!" was the reason for the stink
Partner and I made presence felt and they walked home in disgust
Better that than take the ride for a stupidity bust

Pub Crawl

To reason with long forgotten gangsters was easier than thought
Asked to leave, they hit the road. A battle quickly fought
Inside the bar past closing time was another kind of pickle
Spotlights and some angry words, not at all meant to tickle

Pub Crawl

Despite the ending the week was good and had ended well
No injuries or death or or angry people were brought in on a swell
My break is here, but I'll be back with more stories and more rhyming
There's always something to put on paper, even if wrecked by the timing