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

away.

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

my bit.

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

soldier;
Look after my little girls God, please, hear my

prayer!

devildog6771

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

strife.

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

personal agendas.

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

night!

devildog6771

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

just begun;

From the moment they both met, a bond was

formed between them;
A bond that only they understood, a shared

unspoken understanding;

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

individual journeys;
We all watched in awe and respect the growth of

unconditional love.

Over the next few years our grief for the one began

to lessen;
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

of love;
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

adored.
He had an astounding mind, even his teachers

were amazed;

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

home;

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

above.

devildog6771

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

trees
like the moon and stars nightly watch over the

seas.

Finally I come to a stop and get out and walk a

ways
down the little cement path I haven’t visited in

days.

Then I look down at the marble plague on the

ground
as all around me the crickets are the only sound.

I walk around to make sure nothing’s been

disturbed
then I sit and talk to you for a while sure I am

heard.

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

life
and then all about you grandma and Tisha, your

wife.

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!

devildog6771

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

that;
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

thing;

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
5,2004]

devildog6771

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

disgrace,
my name is Matt Maupin, please, remember my

face?

devildog6771

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

they can.

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

soldier again.

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

call.

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

America.

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

person?”

[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
Saturday 2/18/06….]

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!

by: devildog6771

9.] Regarding the illegal aliens protesting and waving their home country flag!

“Mexico”

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
MASSES,
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
by:devildog6771

The works on this page are the property of devildog6771. You must obtain my permission before using any of these.


4 Responses to “Poems and Essays”

  1. If you can get your self righteous head out of your a$$, you will re-read this post and see not one single word was mentioned about race. I married one of those aliens you’re talking about. Both my kids are 1/2 El Salvadoran. Their dad came here three times illegally.

    He also spent several years getting his status legal with an attorney and a lot of money. He is one of the first people to tell you and anyone else on your high horse that every illegal ought to be sent back, and come here legally as he eventually did.

    Doesn’t it strike you as odd that most of the legal aliens here are the most out spoken about this issue of legality. One other thing, he didn’t march in the streets of LA or any where else waving a Salvadoran Flag. He flies the American flag as a citizen and is proud as hell to do so!

    I served four years in the Marine Corps from 1967-1971 as a “Woman Marine.” I am damned proud of that fact. I am as much a Marine as any other who served, man or woman and I’ll be damned if I will let you or anyone else say otherwise. Unless you are a combat Veteran, which I am not, you have no right to question my service. By they way, which branch did you serve in?

    Being as I have a tiny little brain and am a Marine Veteran to boot, I have no qualm,s telling you that if you want to meet at a mutual location I’ll be happy to discuss my service with you in a manner any Marine would understand!

    As for racist and bigoted conduct, me thinks you doth protest too much!!!

  2. What the heck is that totally racist “Mexico” doing on this site! In case you are a complete moron, caucasin is the minority in the Marines. Also, if you can strech your tiny little brain back many years America was founded by immigrants! The author of that poem is a not a true Marine and is definately not a true man!

  3. Think you brat. Thosewere very kind were with a great deal of truth.

  4. Thank you…absolutely beautiful…. all of them ! I KNOW that all those you have ‘lost’ are never lost…They are YOU, within you, part of you. They always walk with you, watch over you, love you still. Love never dies.. THIS I know. God bless you…

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