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What are you waiting for?
remembrance of rage,
bloody brutal battle,
and forever silence...of
25,000 buried within.
Their bronzed vacant eyes mirror hills splashed
with ripped, twisted steel and mounds of bodies.
Their nostrils burn
from smoldered rubber and festered remains.
They hear the echo of wailing comrades,
and enemies alike.
Black, polished granite beneath their boots
bears no name.
The epitaph resounds:
From the underside of this war
he couldn’t see what it was for
the mud, the filth, and the killing,
the fear that his blood was chilling
and his soul was headed for hell
had distracted his thoughts as well
History books had always said,
there is fame and fortune instead
but, like the sergeant said last night,
“We’re in for a hell of a fight”
This damned hole in a foreign land
is full of bugs and gritty sand
Stories of knights on sturdy steeds
carrying out their honored deeds
were probably fabricated
or at least exaggerated
Some of those battles were fought here
and their reasons were never clear
Some knights died in this very hole
they’re not the ones who we extol
or whose histories will endure
beyond a truer literature
But, he expected, just like them
a final night both scared and grim
Very much like those first crusades
the reason for this battle fades
Beyond the politician’s lies
there is the fact that someone dies
and in the midnight of his soul
plays out his harsh and final role
United States Marines Special Warfare and counter-terrorism
US Special Operations Command MCSOCOM
The Marine stood and faced God, which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining, just as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, you Marine, how shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?"
The Marine squared his shoulders and said, no, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns, can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays, and at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent, because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny, that wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime, when the bills got just too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place, among the people here.
They never wanted me around, except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord, it needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much, but if you don't, I'll understand.
There was a silence all around the throne, where the saints had often trod.
As the Marine waited quietly, for the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Marine, you've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, you've done your time in Hell."
TO MACK FROM DAVID
CARRY ON MARINE
United States Marines Special Warfare and counter-terrorism
US Special Operations Command MCSOCOM
There was once love, so strong and bright,
it could change all from dark to light.
The knight's and dragon's love so strong,
it would have lasted their whole lives long.
Evil seeped through the land,
in search of this love so grand.
Across the land rode an evil knight,
To exterminate them both in a fight,
Back at the lair, the black knight versed the white,
The dragon went hunting, thinking all was right.
While she was flying back,
She heard the almighty crack!,
She saw the spirit of her true love,
floating reluctantly to heaven above.
The final fatal unexpected blow,
Made all her sorrowful emotions flow.
She then fell dead on the floor,
As the black knight struck a blow once more.
Now the two lovers can't be apart,
One in one, a great big heart.
Washed in the blood of the brave and the blooming,
Snatched from the altars of insolent foes,
Burning with star-fires, but never consuming,
Flash its broad ribbons of lily and rose.
Vainly the prophets of Baal would rend it,
Vainly his worshippers pray for its fall;
Thousands have died for it, millions defend it,
Emblem of justice and mercy to all;
Justice that reddens the sky with her terrors,
Mercy that comes with her white-handed train,
Soothing all passions, redeeming all errors,
Sheathing the sabre and breaking the chain.
Borne on the deluge of all usurpations,
Drifted our Ark o'er the desolate seas,
Bearing the rainbow of hope to the nations,
Torn from the storm-cloud and flung to the breeze!
God bless the Flag and its loyal defenders,
While its broad folds o'er the battle-field wave,
Till the dim star-wreath rekindle its splendors,
Washed from its stains in the blood of the brave!
The most precious gift the world was given outside of God's own love Is the love of a mother, surely sent from God above. She's always there to comfort you when life has let you down; When all others may forsake you,her love is still around. She's surely sent from heaven, an angel in disguise, To kiss away each fallen tear that pours from saddened eyes. There to hold and comfort you when things aren't going right; She's there to chase away the fears with love so very bright. And mother's as the gift they are, deserve the highest praise, For standing there right next to us through our most trying days. They know that we're not perfect, so they give us room to grow; And when we need advice, it's surely mom who'll know. So thanks for all you've given me these many trying years; Thanks for always sharing both the laughter and the tears. And thanks to God for blessing me with a mother just like you, Never could I ask for love more strong or true.
Love you mom
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings--the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd,
And men were gather'd round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour
They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash--and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd
And twin'd themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food.
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again: a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought--and that was death
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails--men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devour'd,
Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answer'd not with a caress--he died.
The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they rak'd up,
And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died--
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend.The world was void,
September Eleventh Two Thousand and One,
The sun was just rising, the workday begun.
When all of a sudden, from out of the sky,
Four airplanes descended, thousands would die.
Heroes were made and heroes were lost,
The price of our freedom had taken its cost.
Faceless cowards had raped our great land,
But throughout the whole crisis,
United We Stand.
The face of Evil had reared its head,
Many children were orphaned,
More than three thousand known dead.
But throughout all the fire, the dust and the smoke,
America fought on, we never lost hope.
Old Glory arose, forever She'll wave.
In the land of the free,
And the home of the brave.
These hateful savages,
The pain they well planned.
Just sealed their own fate,
For United We Stand.
Bin Laden's al- Qaida,
The Demons he commands.
We Americans don't fear you,
For United We Stand.
Bin Laden ( ITS TIME TO DIE)
LT.David Martin
United States Marines Special Warfare and counter-terrorism
US Special Operations Command MCSOCOM
"Crazy nights and crazy dreams,
evil knights with laser beams.
Doth protest t'his foulish scheme,
rule the kingdom in supreme.
Plague the people too extreme,
leaving them with low esteem.
Without hope, there is no gleam.
Even with a common theme.
Urge a hero they all scream,
put an end to this regime.
Edward Peters they all deem,
No, one said, we need a ream.
Yes, one shouts, he has a team,
he'll finish th'all like a cream.
Like one said he found a seam,
drove the knights out to the stream.
Without weapons they all teem,
like untrained kids they all steam.
Peters a hero, t'all seem,
Sir t'his name was his redeem."
© LT.David Martin
“Afghanistan” The patients who are able, rise.
The President, with cameras and microphones,
Invades the healing space. The soldiers’ eyes
Remember blasts and blood and broken bones.
A trooper’s leg becomes a photo op.
One question brings the fear and shakes anew.
No order comes to make his story stop,
His Nike nudging Presidential shoe.
A woman, draped in pink, waits in her chair,
The wheels well braced. Her arms are not in view.
The drape she wears itself suggests a clue:
Beneath, she may not have the arms to bare.
Not quite beyond the camera’s frame
A soldier thinks, “They never understand.
He’ll march again; I’ll never be the same,
And learn to live with one remaining hand.”
He sent them whole and healthy to Kandahar.
…The President thanks each, then thanks the Lord
Their blood and bones bought early passage back.
“…You’ll get the best care yer taxes can afford.”
The cynics eyeball their departing Prez.
“Care? Shit, my taxes can’t afford a beer!”
“He loses in November, fifty says
We never see his face again in here.”
© LT.David Martin
