Writings Of Boondockers Poetic Justice Members
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Site Awards
Lighter Side Of BPJ
Lighter Side #2
Lighter Side #3
LIGHTER SIDE#4
4TH OF JULY 2003
THE KOREAN WAR REMEMBERED /July 27,1953-July27,2003 50 years

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Waycross......1989

I saw myself
in the empty eyes
of a dead soldier
caught in a war that shatters
dreams
like glass
into bits and pieces of pain
full
of blood.

..and emptiness remains
slowly falling through my hands
as sand
and time,

as a war that threatens to invade
eternity.

Emptiness!

The wind
blowing across my grave.
A cold wind,
and the clouds
crying.

Emptiness
arm in arm with death,
and both sleeping with the whore
of time
upon the soldiers grave.

The winter moon
is a frozen bird.

Emptiness!





Caliber

©11/7/90
LJKlaiber


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The Person Who Used to Be

 

What a shame no one will ever again see

That singular person who used to be:

The one who loved, and laughed, and vied

For while still living, he turned away, and died.

 

It was he who once could inspire with a word,

But that strong voice will never again be heard,

Even though he has not yet ceased to speak;

His words are now unfocused and bleak.

 

His potential gone to waste, but shunning pity,

He wanders alone through the streets of the city

Or languishes away in a dreary psychic cell,

Reliving the memories of his own private hell.

 

What happened, you wonder, to cause such a change?

What was the trauma that managed to derange

All that was wonderful in this precious life,

And fill it instead with heartache and strife?

 

The recurring nightmares of shadowed jungle paths,

Gravid with the imminence of sudden blood baths,

And the cry of the friend, who voiced his last sound

As, calling, he spun and fell, lifeless, to the ground.

 

There was no refuge; even when 'safe' in the rear,

He knew that he must go back into the fear,

To the rage, death, and sorrow that would not abate

Until he reached that longed-for date:

 

The shimmering DEROS, the day he was free,

To return to the person he could no longer be,

To battle strange ailments, disillusion, and sighs,

Until, still living, he turned away and died.

 

© 9/25/2003 Thurman P. Woodfork

 

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Shield
 
Warrior sleep
is a half dream,
and a cry in the night.

Peace
belongs to those
who have held a child.

For those
alone,
there is only the fire
of midnight.

A hand,
and an arm,
holding the magic
of a
shield.



CAL

©1/04/04 LJKlaiber

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A Soldiering I Must Go

 

Across the ocean and through the woods

A soldiering I must go

Through the screaming bullets Ill try to be good

A soldiering I must go.

 

My family I must leave behind

A soldiering I must go

It breaks my heart to think of our mankind

A soldiering I must go.

 

Putting up with snakes, bugs and crud

A soldiering I must go

With even the flow of my lifes blood

A soldiering I must go.

 

My conscious tells me it for the Red, White and Blue

A soldiering I must go

If I return home when all is through

A soldiering I must go.

 

To a country that hates my very soul

A soldiering I must go

We do this for my family and our country as a whole

A soldiering I must go.

 

Think not of the awful things I may see

A soldiering I must go

Another war in our quest to stay free

A soldiering I must go.

 

©David R. Alexander

January 7, 2004

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Words Of Wisdom...I think Not !
 
Dropkick me Jesus through the goal posts of life the song says,
humorous yes, but sometimes the kicker misses the uprights. Wouldn't
it have been great if life were that damn uncomplicated? Sir, I am
putting my life in your hands so please hold me steady so that the
two hundred pound kicker can plant his size twelve squarely on my
butt and rocket me to success.

Somewhere I missed this little concept of free flight in a big way.
Where did it go wrong you might ask yourself and, if I were to try
to figure it out and get a grip on this I'd be the kicker instead of
the kicked. Somewhere between the approach and the ball my kicker
lost his concentration and sent me reeling to left of the goalposts.
Perfect spiral, hell no! I went wobbling through the air like an
inebriated superman on a twelve day drunk. Twisting and flopping end
over end without purpose but at least I was flying, until I hit the
left upright that is. Then I went careening off higher into space at
warp speed only to fall at light speed to the ground, at which point
I proceeded to bounce this way and that way not knowing which
direction I was heading. Wobbling left, wobbling right then skip to
the loo my darling, skidding to a stop with nothing but dirt and
grass stains to show for the effort. OH BY THE WAYKickerYOU SUCK!

Where is this little fiasco going? Well I couldn't really tell ya
cause I don't know myself. Things haven't changed and I'm still
after all these years trying to figure it out. I admit it, I'm none
the wiser but the ride is a whole lot smoother. Ignorance is truly
bliss, There are no free rides, weebles wobble but they don't fall
down, and I am the master of my own destiny as sucky as that may be.

Still first and ten with fifty yards to the goal.

So far it's been a hell of a ride!

©1/6/03 Richard Preston

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