National Poetry Writing Month - April 9, 2014

It was supposed to be a hectic couple of days off. There were floors to be completed, and dog medicine to administer. So far, I've accomplished the medicine. The flooring is another issue and frankly it's a bit bothersome. A professional operation should know where their customers products are when their trucks leave so that things that are scheduled can be taken care of. But alas, it's not that way in the real world. So instead of waiting for workmen to leave, I am doing my usual day off routine. And that's fine with me.

Same Old Same

Hectic and harried on my hallowed days off

Aren't what I wanted. Wearily I wrested myself out of bed

Dutifully dealt with dog and dog doo

I sat silently on sofa. 

Time ticked away as we waited

Passed out pup and people papa

Both bothered that breaking day was barely beginning

Stretching and straining; sure they would start soon

Looking longingly out living room window

Hoping against hope to hurry house workers

Setting to some simple tasks

Moving most of the mess out of the way

Deciding that dog was in need of dosing

I took bottle of brownish bad time in hand

With a wipe and a wisp

The medicine made it mess in her ear

Laundry lay lazily in baskets 

Laughing at my lack of motivation

Steeling myself so soiled clothes wouldn't win

Into washer with them while we waited

Finally, feeling forgotten phone calls were made

Seems someone set our stuff aside

It was out but out of range

Causing cancellation

Required rescheduling was done

Clothing cleaned, creased and classified

Dog dosed and dog biscuited

Day off. Drifting away as normal again

National Poetry Writing Month - April 8, 2014

Currently, I am watching a classic piece of cinema: Big Trouble in Little China. Okay, so maybe it's not the best movie in the world, but I love it. For it's cheesy dialog. For it's over the top acting. For the horrible but fun special effects. For Jack Burton.

It also made me think of Chinese poetry. What the forms were, how they were set up, the rhyme scheme. So I did a quick search on the Google and found the following form and style, Gu Ti. A sort of couplet based free verse. I hope that I do it justice.

Of Bad Movies On A Good Day

Though the dog had a date with the doc, it was nice

As we left the early morning fog lifted, at no price

She had her ears cleaned out by the vet, lots of dirt

And a weeks worth of medicine, cures the hurt

Time for lunch for me before work, eggs and toast

And a very good bad movie, liked the most

Demons and monsters all around, make me smile

As I dine on my food all the while

Soon off to work for the day

What will happen to us tonight, who's to say

But we'll meet each challenge face to face

No matter the time or the place

National Poetry Writing Month - April 7, 2014

There are some topics that folks don't like to talk about. Politics, religion, money. And suicide. It's a painful fact that sometime, a person feels like their best solution to their problems is to kill themselves. And in my line of work, I have seen the aftermath of that decision and it's impact on family and friends. I have had friends kill themselves and wondered what I could have done to help them. 

There is a certain method out there that comes even closer to the police, and that is suicide by cop. A person has decided that they want to end their life, but can't bring themselves (for whatever reason) to do it. So they will get the police involved and try and goad the officers into taking their life for them. Check out this website for more information about suicide by cop. 

All of that brings me to these lines, wherein I try and describe what happened to me and my shift partner a few days ago. I think you can all tell where it is going.

Wanted His Wings, Didn't Want To Earn Them

Unlike swimming we didn't get to wait 30 minutes

Before being thrown into the deep end of the pool

The call comes into my ear; suicidal subject

More information to come

Setting aside the initial bad information we arrive at the house

Still not sure, still no further, still and quiet we arrive

The son meets me at my squad; he's pale despite his complexion

In the garage is his father; desperate; and armed

I unleash my firearm, not heading into this fray without at least equal footing

My partner has a Taser; I am the lethal coverage

We creep to the garage, me telling the son to go inside

If it goes south, he doesn't need to see it

I spot the father in the corner, his head in his hands

His empty hands

My partner knows him. He seems to know everyone

And in this case I am extraordinarily happy for that

We edge the corner of the open garage door

I still see no weapons and neither does my partner

He calls out to the father. 

His name...Angel

A few minutes of talking and Angel is in the back of the squad

He's going to talk to someone

I check the garage quickly and find it

A shiny, black 45 caliber replica BB gun

Looking at this piece of molded plastic I shook my head

He would have died that night had he presented it

If he had followed through with his sadness

I would have granted him his wish of death that night

But Angel is not an angel today

He lives on with his family and his memories to haunt him

My partner and I live on with ours

And no bad memories to haunt us from this house

National Poetry Writing Month - April 6, 2014

Almost a whole week into this and I think I'm getting the hang of it. This one will be about friends that I haven't seen in about 20 years, but will be reuniting with this summer. It's a trip that I am looking forward to very much.

...And It Feels So Good

So see these men and women again is something that 

I never thought would happen. 

Brothers and sisters in arms

From my youth. My glory days gone past

Technology keeps us connected

Up to date and in the know

With the wives and husbands and children

But thousands of real miles separate us all

Vacations could be made

For one on one meetings and reminiscing

To sit on porches or in restaurants

And laugh and remember the good time

And the bad times as well

We weren't always as wise as we are now

Then, we were young and brash

Headstrong, if not smart

But vacations are fleeting and short

Like this one will ultimately be

Only a few days to say hello

And then it's goodbye again

For who knows how long

Before we see each other in the real world

I am looking forward to seeing them all again

Even if for only a small while

National Poetry Writing Month - April 5, 2014

It's Saturday, and for most folks that means a day off. Not for me, and my fellow officers. We work more often than the postal carriers. Every day, all weather, light or dark.

ENDO

The day on the calendar is meaningless to me

Monday. Thursday. Sunday. Saturday

In my mind, it's Day 1. Or 2. Or 3. Or 4.

Everyday. No Days Off

That's when I work. It doesn't matter that it's

A birthday. A holiday. Or any day

For me it's Day 1. Or 2. Or 3.Or 4.

Everyday. No Days Off

While family is at home, or occasionally out with friends

I more often than not am at work.

On Day 1. Or 2. Or 3. Or 4.

Everyday. No Days Off

This is the life of the police. 

A sacrifice of time spent with wife, husband, or child.

Because of Day 1. Or 2. Or 3. Or 4.

Everyday. No Days Off.

National Poetry Writing Month - April 4, 2014

Nothing says classic poetry like the one and only sonnet. A standard for Shakespeare and countless others for centuries. This is the first of what I'm sure will be many more this month.

NaPoWriMo Sonnet #1

With the wind howling outside of my door

I sit and I stare at the blank screen

The dog shifts roughly and lets out a snore

While the blank white page stares back at me. Clean

As a drift of the snow that has melted

And as harsh as the cold piercing draft

The spring time rain on my windows have pelted

Giving a rhythm to my typing craft

I see trees bending under the force of the gale

As I sit warm and snug in my room

Shielded away from the gray sky so pale

The color of wintertime's fading gloom

Green is returning to the ground and the sky

And summer will be upon us by and by

National Poetry Writing Month - April 3, 2014

It's already tough, and it's only day three! Sometimes the words flow, and sometimes they are stuck. When that happens I just relax and see what happens.

Day Three Haikus

The words come and go

My ideas ebb and flow

Oceans of poems

To the end of this

I will see it all the way

April is not long

A pinpoint of light

The tunnel is not so long

Thirty days of art