National Poetry Writing Month - April 16, 2014

It's been warm. It's been cold. It's been rainy, sunny, and snowy. All in the space of a week. The poor flowers and birds don't know what in the hell to think. But, as I look out the window right now, the grass is green, the sky is blue and the birds are singing.

And Ode To (Hopefully) Spring

Once in a while you must look outside

And see what's been going on around you

To see the green grass and the nests of pride

That the birds have built up all about you

Watch the snow wash away and show the ground

And all of the blades it once had hidden

The warmth of the sun brings life all around

Baby birds hidden high. Puppies. Kittens

Despite the cruel winter it all comes back

Slowly but surely the flowers return

Through the harsh cold springtime finds a crack

To makes itself felt in the sunshine's burn

Go out in your yard and smell the flowers

Take in their new life; take awe in their power

National Poetry Writing Month - April 15, 2014

If you haven't discerned by now, I am a police officer. The badge as my avatar, my name on the posts, the fact that I write a lot about work and arresting people. It isn't a huge state secret. I do keep the details as vague as possible to help keep myself and my family safe when I am off of work.

I also am one of those cops who likes guns. Pistols, rifles, shotguns. I enjoy shooting them, I enjoy teaching others how to shoot them and I even enjoy cleaning them. Today I will write some about guns and my enjoyment and use of them.

All Ready On The Firing Line

(1)

It's called evil

Dangerous and deadly

Unnecessary for most

And an adult mans Lego set

Black and shiny

Camo and dull

Cold to hot steel

And plastic pieces and parts

I can teach you to

Use it properly. The names

Of the parts and how

To aim and squeeze

It's a tool of my trade

No more and no less

Dangerous? No. A tool

The user can be dangerous

(2)

13+1 of brass and lead

Polymer and metal strapped

To my hip as I walk

The streets and alleys

I've never used it

On another human

And I hope to

Never have to

34 parts in total

I can teach you how

To use those parts

To save or take a life

(3)

A most blunt piece

Of iron and wood

Plastic and lead shot

Shooting from it's barrel

It's iconic sound brings

All nonsense to a halt

Everyone knows it's voice

No one wants to challenge it

It's proven itself

To my forebears

On domestic and foreign fronts

It's a proven winner

(4)

These are merely tools

Used by good and evil

For good and evil

To each their causes

The one behind

The rifle

The pistol

The shotgun

I train with these tools

And train others with them

To advance good

And end evil

National Poetry Writing Month - April 14, 2014

While a lot of people are complaining about the weather, their jobs, etc., I am going to take a different tack. I am going to complain about...NOTHING! 

My job may be frustrating and crazy sometimes, but I have a job. There may be a list a chores and errands waiting for me on my days off (of my own making) but I have a home to go to. And a beautiful wife and dog to go home to. So while there are plenty of things for some folks to whine about, I feel pretty lucky.

Nothing To See Here, Move Along

I could complain

About the snow and cold

And the piles of paper

On at my workplace

But the truth is this

I'd be pretty bold

To not see how much

I have had to grace

My life. A job I love

And a wife who loves me

And a happy-go-lucky

Dog in our house

And though some that I know

See the worst they can see

I only know that I have

A home, dog and spouse

That I adore more than anything

Else that I have had

A bold statement sure

But it's the truth

That no matter what comes out

To make me feel sad

They are there for me always

And of that I have proof

To those who'd complain

'Bout the weather and such

And work and other things

To them I would say

Look and around you just once

And remember how much

That you have in your life

Each and every day

National Poetry Writing Month - April 13, 2014

Here it is, a lazy, rainy, Sunday afternoon. I finished up crossing my eyes to get the work schedule completed for the month. It's a mess, to say the least. We run pretty close to minimum staffing at my workplace, and when someone is out sick, it makes it even tighter. Well, we have one guy out on an extended injury leave and a second is out with his newborn baby. Which makes for some long days for some, and extra days for others.

Pair that with the rain and I end up looking like the bad guy for forcing folks to work. Such is the life of the supervisor.

It Can Be Lonely At The Top

For the overall good

I have to do "bad"

To keep the honcho happy

I make others mad

Our hands are so short

That we can't reach the light

Working long days

And some extra nights

The moaning and groaning

I can already hear

Some soft as a kitten

Some piercing my ear

But until we are more

We'll make due with less

And the paper of working

Will look like a mess

National Poetry Writing Month - April 12, 2014

The weather has been fantastic the last couple of days. Of course, it's going to turn colder again at the beginning of the week, but I'll call it officially spring. And with spring comes the inevitable stupidity of the people.

I am inspired today, by the events of last night. And the fact that one of the people involved looked like this:

Sorry I couldn't find a larger picture. But honestly, she really did look just like this. Bonus if you can name the movie this is from. Extra bonus if you can name the character.

I Thought You Looked Saner

Near the change of shift, the radio calls to us

Someone has come to the station with a problem

That they can't solve themselves.

That they also cause themselves

It's been a long shift; lots of people about

None of whom were overtly evil

But just generally annoying

Except for the sailors. They were all fine

We met the distraught caller in the lot

A brand new SUV parked next to my squad

A larger, older, sweatier man

Lumbered towards us, asking for our help

"We met her downtown" says he

She seemed nice; a few drinks later

And off to the suburbs they all headed

Man. Girlfriend. And "friend"

A $40 friend we later found out

As the truth was revealed to us

He'd rented a car to hide his identity

In case he was pinched by the police

"She's crazy!" he cried. She looked fairly calm to me

Sitting in the passenger seat, staring out of the glass

At the four police now gathered 

And the four paramedics standing nearby

We coaxed her out of the car

Sarah was her name; homeless hooking was her game

She admitted so in a roundabout way

The caller would admit no such thing

Since Sarah was not a criminal in our eyes

She was set free upon society

Or at least the next train back to the city

And we turned to the caller

Larger, older, sweatier man: hear this

The next time you pick up a prostitute 

And the deal goes bad at your house in the next town

Take your problem to their police

And with that they were gone

Back to the big city, and the small house

And we back to the station

To end and begin the night

National Poetry Writing Month - April 11, 2014

I spent the better part of yesterday and about an hour this morning finishing an online course called ARIDE - Advanced Roadside Impaired Driving Enforcement. It's a sort of in between training course from the basic Standardized Field Sobriety Tests to the much more advanced Drug Recognition Expert. The DRE certification is one that I would greatly like to obtain. I've always enjoyed taking drunk drivers off of the streets. With my current department I've amassed almost 70 DUI arrests, and that was in about 4 years. It may not seem like many, but it's good enough for second overall in enforcement in the department.

While taking the course I was thinking to myself, I wonder what could have happened to all of the impaired drivers if I hadn't intervened.

If I Weren't There

If I weren't there to stop you

Would you have made it home?

Safely to your family

Or to your home alone?

Could you have gone without a crash

And taking an innocent life?

Using your car and your impaired mind

As weapon; a gun or knife

Is it possible you'd have killed yourself

In some fiery mass of steel

Leaving me and my fellow officers

To tell your family, and see how they feel

About you making such a rash mistake

To drive after drinking so much

No longer would they hear your voice

See your face, feel your touch

You curse me as I handcuff you

And take you off to jail

As I read the forms and write the tickets

And make you post your bail

But think of this when we arrive in court

And remember well my face

That because I arrested you that night

You're alive to be in this place

National Poetry Writing Month - April 10, 2014

It's crazy in my house! There are guys putting in new carpet, a new gun safe was just delivered, the dog is curious as hell. All of that doesn't mean that I will be shirking my responsibility to bring you poetry on a daily basis.

I saw a shadow that caught my imagination yesterday. I had put up a new American flag outside of the front door and with the wind and sunshine it made for a bit of inspiration.

Living Nature

The hug of spring warms the trees and ground

Melting away the frosty bite of winter

A bright shining eye looks down upon the flowers

And the fingers of the day caress the blades of grass

Warm breath of the breeze blows gently

Sending dark and light across the sidewalk

And across the shrubs near the house

The branches filling and emptying their lights blood

Voices on the air, singing bird songs

Chattering chipmunks and squirrels

An odd dog barks somewhere

Wanting to join in the glorious day

Quickly fading into blackness

Night falls on the streets 

Heat of the day is replaced

With the cool refreshing night