Poems and Essays
1.] A soldier’s Prayer
“Hear My Prayer”
Please God, hear my prayer, I beg you on this day;
Look out for my little girls because I have to go
To a hot unfriendly land, I’m marching off to war;
The President says I’m needed on a distant shore.
Tell them dad’s got something important to do, our
country’s issued its call.
I’ve got to make sure our troops get what they
need to keep it safe for all.
Tell them often I love them and I’ll will be back
before they know it.
That I don’t want to leave them, but I have to do
Tell them I don’t believe in war and I don’t like
guns and knives.
But there’s these terrorists over there who have no
value for human lives.
They’ve bombed our embassies, attacked our
ships, and toppled the Twin Towers.
For over seventeen years they’ve waged their war;
and tried to make us cower!
So tell my little girls be brave and say their daily
prayers for me;
That before they know it, I’ll be home with them
upon my knee.
So once again I beg you God, look kindly on your
Look after my little girls God, please, hear my
2.] A tribute to our troops!
“Well Into the Night”
They gave their lives in defense of their
country,never once faltering at their tasks. Heroes
in every sense of the word, these brave souls have
done as we asked.
They gathered their gear and went to the front,
young men and women with fear on their faces,
Soldiers with courage in their hearts, they set to
their task, they began the hunt!
Through desert sand in a hot unfriendly land, they
marched to the cadence of soldiers past. They
fought our enemy, one by one,outgunned,
out-manned, they fought to the last.
Noone can say that these brave soldiers, young
men and women from all walks of life, Didn’t do
their duty as they had been taught, with courage,
honor, dignity, and pride, they met the challenge
of war, head on, they marched into the midle of the
But not all our soldiers died on the battlefield as
we know it, some were taken by thieves in the
night. These thieves came, as cowards do, in the
shadows of darkness.
They came and took our innocent friends and
families, and yes, our troops, not as honorable
soldiers answering the call of their God and
country; but as crazed, angry men with hate in
their hearts, seekers of power, position, and
They owe allegiance to none, including the God
they profess to follow; Though their war was
begun many years ago, they escalated their
campaign one morning in September.
They blend into the crowds like a second skin,
suicide bombers, young and old; misguided
murderers who like to pretend, they fight for
freedom and Religion.
They put bombs on trains and under cars, they
strap them to women and children; none is safe
from their depraved behavior, they ram our troops
cars from behind, attack randomly from the
shadows, all in the name of their holy Savior.
Yet through it all, with heads held high, and pride
in their hearts, our soldiers continue to rally and
fight; As one comrade falls, and another steps
forward, they continue the fight,well into the
3.]In Memory of My Nephew and my brother,
Bubba, who died from cancer one year after he left
the Army during Vietnam
“Bubba and Michael”
One life lay suffering in his bed, waiting for his
final journey home;
One life lay quietly sleeping in his bed, his journey
From the moment they both met, a bond was
formed between them;
A bond that only they understood, a shared
Over the next few months that bond just grew,
giving comfort to both;
The one derived a growing sense of peace, the
other a warm feeling of love;
On that final day when the one slipped away, at
home at last;
The other stayed behind, too young to comprehend
what they had shared;
And as these two accompanied each other on their
We all watched in awe and respect the growth of
Over the next few years our grief for the one began
Our hearts began to mend, our sadness replaced
by many fond memories;
Over these same few years the other grew into an
amazing young man;
He had shocking red hair, a face full of freckles,
and an insatiable curiosity;
He was such an uncomplicated young man, so full
With a contagious spirit and zest for life, he
brought out the best in everyone near him;
There was such joy in everything he did, and we all
loved him dearly;
Both our parents doted on him, it was hard not to;
And his Mom and him shared a loving bond that
was beautiful to watch;
My brothers and sisters and I were crazy about
him, we couldn’t help it;
He grew up in our home as one of us, and he was
this pesky little boy that made us all feel so
He had an astounding mind, even his teachers
He put his heart and soul into everything he did, he
had so much he wanted to do;
Like his uncle he went into law enforcement, “it
was a family tradition;”
He married and had four little girls, he could
change diapers better than any mom;
He never missed a chance to show them his love;
He was a Police Officer, a Mentor, a Rock Singer, a
Song Writer, his talents were many;
But it was his role as a good Father and Husband
that he most wanted to be known;
He took “his girls” everywhere he went, he was a
father in every sense of the word;
He never was too tired or busy to take time with
them, or read them a story;
He told them and showed them in every way, every
moment of each day;
But with all he gave to his family, he still found
time for his mom and grandmother;
He was a loving son and grandson, and a good
friend to both;
He loved to spend time with each, letting them
both know how much he loved them too.
After 9/11, he answered God’s call and joined the
Navy, he wanted to be ready if needed;
He answered the call and again gave his all, only
this time he too took the final journey, he is now at
Two lives are now at home, both sitting at the side
of their Father;
One paved the way many years before, saving a
place for the other to come;
Now they are both looking down from above, both
clothed in an aura of love;
Keeping watch over us all, from so very high up
4.] A poem to Mike
A visit with Michael
I like to go to the cemetery at night
when the darkness spreads its eerie light.
I always drive down the road to the right
following the soft beam of the headlights.
As I drive slowly through the darkness I see
a carpet of beautiful trees scattered randomly.
The road quietly meanders around the outside
as I continue through where you now reside.
Inside the loop throughout the quiet little park
I see scattered here and there lanterns in the dark.
In every direction they cast a soft glow of light
like one big silky blanket of warmth each night.
They maintain their vigilance, the lanterns and
like the moon and stars nightly watch over the
Finally I come to a stop and get out and walk a
down the little cement path I haven’t visited in
Then I look down at the marble plague on the
as all around me the crickets are the only sound.
I walk around to make sure nothing’s been
then I sit and talk to you for a while sure I am
I talk about the good times we all used to share
and tell you how I feel and I lay my soul bare.
I talk about how proud we all are for what you did
and I think a lot about when you were just a kid.
I tell you what I know of your girls and you mom’s
and then all about you grandma and Tisha, your
But most of all I just sit and talk about things
I didn’t talk about before as I wipe away the tears
that this always brings!
5.] Memorial Day Tribute to Mike
[I wrote this poem in memory of my nephew who
was killed in Kuwait on March 5, 2004. I also wrote
it to honor all our troops on this Memorial Day.]
“Don’t Heaven Sound Like a Beautiful Place”
As he looks across the huge field below,
off to the right he sees a bright rainbow;
Days of rain have washed clean the air,
and fed the grass and flowers growing there.
He gazes at row upon row of granite crosses,
a constant reminder of war’s tragic losses;
in perfect alignment they stand in formation,
brave soldiers who once guarded our nation;
As they rest here peacefully in this holy place,
He hangs his head at the shame and disgrace;
They gave their lives in defense a nation,
that now stands divided by political oration;
Then he reflects on that day in September,
The Twin Towers in New York a burning ember;
The Pentagon in Washington partially ablaze,
A plane crash in Pennsylvania saw panic for days;
On that day of tragedy and foreign invasion,
he reviewed his options and rose to the occasion,
All across America young men and women stood,
All took the oath because they felt they should;
He knew he didn’t have to join up but he did;
He felt God spoke to him and did as He bid;
Tall and proud he told his little girls goodbye,
With hugs and kisses he left with head held high;
Promise me you’ll look after my girls he said,
Tell them I love them when they go to bed;
Make sure they know Daddy didn’t want to go,
But, under the circumstances I couldn’t say no;
Remind them of the promise I made to them,
I’ll be OK and return home but don’t know when;
To say their prayers and think of me often,
He didn’t know that he’d return home in a coffin;
He wasn’t killed by a terrorist bullet or deed,
instead his fellow companion failed to heed;
in a moment of carelessness a man lost his life,
and a moments panic and fear caused great strife;
He looked at the names in this sacred place,
He read each one to himself and saw a face;
Not here in this field where he could never lay,
But in the house of his Father every day;
Though he did not die on any field of combat,
He did die serving his country, you can believe
Though he wanted to be with his girls and friends,
He would still have made that same decision again;
After a few more moments of silent reflection,
he forgave the circumstances of his situation;
As he did this he heard the heavenly choir sing,
That was when he knew he had done the right
And as he rose to heaven with a flutter of wing,
I heard him sing,
“*Doesn’t Heaven sound like a beautiful place?
And I’m ready for the day I see his face.
Won’t be no guns.
won’t be no knives.
Hear the best preaching that
you ever heard in your lives.”
[*by: PO2 Michael J. Gray, killed in Kuwait, March
6.] In Honor of Matt Maupin
“Remember My Face”
It’s been so long now I can’t help but feel,
my life is all over, is this all really real;
I’ve been a prisoner for such a long time,
no one left behind, was that just a line;
They beat and threaten my life with a shiv,
name, rank, and serial number, that’s all I give;
Does anyone even remember my name,
or am I a soldier and prisoner of little fame;
How much longer will I be held in this place,
my name is Matt, do you remember my face;
I’m an American soldier who willingly served,
I can’t help but thinking this is so undeserved;
Have I been abandoned in this horrible place,
will I die and disappear without leaving a trace;
What about my buddies, who fought at my side,
are they still fighting, has the war turned the tide;
Will they come for me and free me from this fate,
or will I die in this place a victim of fanatical hate;
The country I love and served with such pride,
has it turned its back on me now, has it lied;
Please don’t leave me behind, it would be a
my name is Matt Maupin, please, remember my
7.] Honoring our troops
“Who am I?”
I left home to go to a far away land, now
everything is different. I can’t explain to anyone
how. Lately everything seems to be so very
confused. It all runs together and it won’t slow
down. One minute I’m a normal eighteen year old
kid without a care in the world. Next minute I’m a
soldier, alone with my thoughts as I crouch behind
a battered vehicle dodging enemy bullets that whiz
past my head. Beside me are my brothers and
sisters, my only source of strength and courage to
go on when I feel myself start to slip away..
An enemy attacked our country. They killed
thousands of our own. They threaten to destroy us,
to make our country their own. So we came to this
place to put an end to their goals. We freed
another people these fanatics also terrorized. We
taught them how to be free. We gave them hope
for a better future. We are helping rebuild their
country. At the same time we now fight alongside
each other to defeat this common enemy.
Sadly, one day one of their eighteen yearolds
might be sent far away. They too may have to
fight an enemy who threatens to destroy their
homeland. But I pray what we do here today will
help prevent that far away day. Not because I am a
coward or don’t want to do my job. I am just a
soldier, who loves his/her country. And I’m proud
to do my part.
Like many other soldiers before, I willingly
volunteered for this honor. To me and my brothers
and sisters there is no higher calling except the
call of God. I live to serve and protect, to keep our
enemies at bay. I trained hard for that day all the
while hoping it would never come. But if the call
came, I knew I would do what needed to be done.
There was also the element of being tested, to
know if I could I do my part if the need arose.
But I always hoped that my job would become
obsolete. You see, no soldier really wants to kill
another human being, be they enemy or innocent
victims who are unfortunate to be in the wrong
place at the wrong time. We hope our very training
and presence will deter those who would do us
harm. But, now, as in the past, there are those who
have no love of country or even their fellow man.
They spread terror, hate and death anywhere that
I was all pumped up my first day in this land. I
was going to help stop this enemy who brazenly
attacked us on our very shore. I was going to stop
him, let him feel the Eagle at his door. The first
time I had to kill one of them, I never felt any
remorse. I didn’t look into his face as he died, so I
felt no remorse. But that all changed one day as I
watched the life flow slowly from my enemy’s face.
Then I watched, for the first time, as the life’s
blood of an innocent child drained slowly into the
sand. I couldn’t help but feel there must be some
other way! I felt a tear slide down my face!
Then I stood helplessly by and watched as one of
my own brothers and sisters died. I felt the loss
like a stabbing burning pain deep inside my heart.
I stored it beside the images of all those innocent
children. I felt an anger begin to grow inside me
that at times threatened to consume me. I wanted
to kill every single one of the enemy. I wanted to
strangle them with my bare hands, watch as the
recognition appeared in their eyes they were dying
at my hands. I would savor that moment forever.
But a voice inside me, I don’t know if it was my
own or that of God above, said do that and what
will be the difference between you and those you
judge. So I put aside my anger, or at least that
which crossed the line from soldier defending the
rights of others to madman killing just to kill. I
tempered my rage, I swallowed my grief, I put
aside my loneliness and fears, and became a
Everyday, or at least once a week when I could, I
talked to my loved one(s) back at home. I read the
letters incessantly, opened their packages made
with such love. These things were my salvation.
They reminded me of who I was before I came to
this far away land. I didn’t realize just how much
of myself was lost day by day. We are too busy
staying alive and doing our jobs to think about
much of anything else.
But one day I began to notice a difference. It was a
subtle something I couldn’t quite grasp. I started
marking down the days as the end of my tour was
coming to pass. I found there were more and more
moments of reflection. Sometimes I couldn’t even
remember what I reflected about. I just wanted to
be home again, be normal again, be clean again,
sleep in my own bed, not have to go out, hunt the
enemy, kill him or be killed, see all the death, the
violence. I missed my home. I missed my family. I
missed my life. But these thoughts confused me. I
am a soldier after all. I have a duty. I answer the
I felt guilty about wanting to leave behind my
fellow brothers and sisters. I felt guilty that some
of them would never go home. I felt guilty because
of the burdens my job placed on my family. I felt
unclean. Could they still love me though I am no
longer that person who went away that day to
protect and defend them from harms way? I felt so
afraid! Then I felt a terrible fear begin to grow
inside me that the horrors of what I had seen, had
done, had lived with during my time here might
some way touch them too. After months of living
on guard to protect my very life, would I be able to
relax these instincts?
As I lay in my bed at night reliving the horrors of
war in my sleep, would my spouse be safe from
me? Would I lose control in that moment of not
being asleep anymore but not quite awake, and
think he/she was the enemy? Can I control all the
anger, rage, pain, and not let it spill over to my
kids? But hardest of all, can I be with them, accept
their love when inside even though some small
part of me knows all that other garbage is there
and all of what is left of my emotions is still inside
me somewhere but I FEEL ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
A dark cloud of nothingness and darkness is
wrapped around my heart. It stays with me night
and day. Only the battle with the enemy or the
fellowship of my brothers and sisters in arms
comforts me because I see that same nothingness
in their eyes too. I see their confusion too. I see
that like me their training and professionalism as
trained soldiers is all that allows them to go on
each day. All that keeps us all on the right side of
the line that separates us from the type of human
being we are and the enemy we fight.
All those cards, letters, phone calls, emails, they
too help keep us from crossing that line. They also
keep us from losing ourselves completely. It is the
support from home that keeps us going. It is the
love from our country that makes the difference.
That’s why when I read or hear the news from
home my despair deepens. The news is all so
negative. There is no news of the good we do.
There is no news that we are winning this war.
There is no news that says our country has not
abandoned us. There is only the marching in the
streets, the protests outside the hospitals where
our brothers and sisters lay recovering from their
wounds, the fighting in the Congress.
Were it not for our training, the love we brought
with us of our loved ones, the love of our country,
our own love in return, I/we couldn’t go on. We
wouldn’t have had the strength to start checking
out things for ourselves about the situation back at
home. We wouldn’t have been able to figure out
that all those spreading the hate, negativity, and
lack of support are made of the same substance as
the enemy we fight here, so far away from home.
The only thing that keeps our fear at bay for our
homeland is knowing and remembering that the
same spirit that has allowed our country to exist
this long will raise its collective arm and stop those
at home who would destroy our country, its
dreams, its hopes, all the good that exists in
So, “Who am I?” I am an American Soldier. I am an
American Veteran. I am proud to be an American. I
love my country. I am proud and feel privileged to
have served my country. But I am one of many
who need help. I am not a coward. I am not afraid
to serve again. But, sometimes no matter how hard
I try, the stain of war leaves an imprint on me that
I can’t fight off by myself. I try. God knows I try.
But, I need your help now. I need you to help me
look after my family . I need you to help me find
myself again. I need you to be strong and do your
part as I recover. I need you to not let those in
America who would try to destroy our country
succeed. I need to know my sacrifices, given
willingly, were not in vain. I need to know what I
did mattered. I need to know again, “Who am I the
[I feel I must make a clarification. I wrote this post
on behalf of our troops. I did my best to try to
present what I thought might be going through the
mind of all/some of our deployed soldiers. If any
soldier feels I have done them an injustice, please
let me know. I hope I did a decent job. I hope you
also realize that none of what I’ve written is
intended as anything negative. I just wanted to try
to say some things y’all might not feel comfortable
or advisable to say. ….edited by devildog6771 on
8.] Written to one of our milbloggers
“The Measure of a Man”
You know Red, it’s OK to be down. It’s OK to want it
all over and be at home where you belong.
It’s OK to feel the weight of a leader. It’s OK
want to have just a moment when you don’t have
to be so strong!
It’s OK to be afraid all the time. It’s ok to feel
outside yourself when everything’s too much.
It’s OK to feel an overwhelming rage. It’s OK to
curse and spew about the war, the MSM, stupid
orders and such.
It’s OK to cry when you’re over flowing inside. It’s
OK to pray to God it will all go away.
You are but a man, you see. No man should live
and see what you do in a day!
You’re like the man in Thoreau’s “Different
Drummer.” You’ve found your own way to survive
each and every miserable day!
Patton said, “Courage is fear holding on a minute
longer.” I read your words and hear your thoughts
and know you too live that way!
I could find no other way to say what I want to say
to you by way of encouragement. So I wrote this
poem. I hope it brings you (and your men) some
measure of pride.
I know you beat yourself up for how you feel. But,
I think the most courageous of men are those not
afraid to say what is inside!
9.] Regarding the illegal aliens protesting and waving their home country flag!
Keep walkin’, walkin’, walkin’,
When they walk on Monday Morning,
Keep ALL them aliens walkin’ to Mexico…
Don’t stop to take a tally,
Just march, and point, and direct’em,
Let’em know America HAS laws!
Lady Liberty says to “GIVE US
YOUR TIRED, YOUR POOR, YOUR HUDDLED
As long as you come here legally!
Walk’en out, run’em out,
Run’em out, wall’em out,
Walk’em out, Run’em out, to Mexico….
Send’em home, Lead’em home,
Wave OUR flag, Sing OUR song,
Send them all the way to Mexico….
sung to the tune of Rawhide
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