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This Is A Place of Remembrance 
Yet Another Quest
My friend, I think I may see,
an old warrior`s face,
in the twilight, a darker side of thee
A side that could tell of war`s bloody Hell,
an unspoken river that still flows,
for you have been there and learned it well
Is there a quickening in your heart
because you know the story so well,
for long ago ,you chose a soldier`s part
These soldiers you pray for today will return
to a grateful America`s open arms,
to a Heroes Welcome that they have earned
You, and others like you ,stand here to ensure
that they SHALL be welcomed home with PRIDE,
that no sneers will they ever have to edure
On your face shows fierce pride
of these young sisters and brothers
and pain, for the ones who have died
Thrust your old memories into the night,
for there is much to be done
You cannot falter in the coming fight
The young fight today for freedom,you see,
.............and the respect of........
.........Old Soldiers, such as thee..........
İFaye Sizemore 3/25/03
 The Knock
The children are playing,subdued today,
pre-schoolers being good in their own way
The dishes are done and lunch is now on
She keeps very busy to forget he is gone
Glances at the television, silent in the corner
Should she turn it on..no wait awhile longer
The soup is done and the table is already set
A extra bowl is there...again, did she forget
No,it`s just comforting to see it sitting there
Daddy`s bowl is just salve for their undying care
Her children scramble to the table,angels unaware
Billy, with his Daddy`s curly hair,and his 'little man' air
Annie has his eyes of blue,Daddy`s little girl for true
And Jimmy, with his Daddy`s lop-sided grin...
With lots of gusto and giggling, lunch does begin...
Safe and secure ,here at home, so far from the war
Daddy`s place is empty because of a patrotic chore
She rises slowly to answer a knock at the door
Out the window she looks, and her eyes begin to tear,
....................... uniformed men are standing there
Her thousand year journey,her faltering steps,
................ across the floor,Dear Lord,forgive,
she knows that until she answers the Knock,
............................for her ,he still does live
Faye Sizemore 3/26/03
 Lady
......America,America........
.......Thirty years of rains
have still not washed
........the Delta mud
from your feet........
How many years......
...of wind will it take.....
to blow the desert sand
.......... from your hair...
Freezing winters ....
......have preserved the blood
and still...with this spring...
..................in the desert sun
.........once again it thaws....
............ and flows......
as do the tears.... from your eyes
İFaye Sizemore 3/27/03
 EPILOGUE-IRAQ
Dateline: Bangdad, April '03
It must be over, things have stayed real quiet for many hours now.
Wonder if folks just finally decided they'd had enough of Husseins'
thugs that reigned terror on them for so long that they got up on
their hind legs and said "enough."
Or maybe the special guard types that have been running in droves
frantically waving the white flags toward our lines finally just
figured it out. They must surely know that their chances of anything
more than short term survival were with us rather than with those who
know of their deeds.
Don't matter much nohow cause they will soon be in a lineup to be
judged by those who they now, with great fear of retribution, are
trying so hard to escape.
Important thing is, the killing has stopped and the healing can
begin. The madman and his surviving entourage is thought to be long
gone to Syria or other points by now but we're still patroling and
looking for anything that might interrupt this newly found silence
and peace.
It's late afternoon and there are people congregating everywhere.
Mostly celebrating, crying, and being helped to food, water, and any
other aid they'll need to get to a better day tomorrow.
A sudden burst of fire from a 16 ahead of me jerked my mind back to
attention! My buddy Pete was standing alone by a huge pile of debris
that God only knows was what that same morning. I'd been sticking
pretty close to Pete since we've been on the streets today. He'd
seen some civilians earlier, dead and still clutching their white
flags with horrible wounds in the backs of their heads leaving the
guesswork as to who caused them obvious. He hasn't said a word since
that time and when I try to talk to him, he just turns and moves on.
He's still standing and staring into the rubble when I get to him. I
peer down to see what he is so intent on and in the half darkness I'm
staring into the dying eyes of the one who was the cause and focus of
this. The man who could have had it all forevera man who could have
had the love of his people,more wealth than he could ever spend, the
respect of a region and a world ,all of it! Yet he required more
total power and control of a people, their resources, even their
thoughts and mindsand a pedestal.
But he was still him,SoDamm Insane we called him, and as I saw the
desert dust stream down from the larger pieces of broken concrete
into his fear-filled face I thought, he's only a mana very evil man.
About a block away I saw another squad of our guys coming slowly down
both sides of the street. With only a flick of my boot, several tons
of teetering debris slid noisily into the void below me. I lit a
marlboro and as the squad leader approached us he said, "We heard
gunfireeverything ok?"
"Yep" I said, "some of this stuff settling kinds spooked usjust a
little jumpy."
"Know what you mean," said the sarge, "Any word on whatever happened
to the big guy or if he's escaped?"
As we turned to walk away I answered, "No, but I expect right about
now he's meeting seventy-four little virgin cutie-pies but I doubt
he's gonna be able to help `em out of that predicament much."
I turned then to my friend, my compadre, and started to slowly move
away. I slapped him on the back and said, "c'mon Pete, we promised
these people their country back so let's get started on that! But
first, we need to get you a new weapon ,that one ya got there shoots
pitiful low!"
Randy (today)
İRandy Richmond2/27/03
{ fiction for sure but old soldiers can wish and daydream...}
 Carolina Piney Woods
Come...
Walk with me in the piney woods
Winter has been packing it`s goods
All here is becoming lush and green
Signs of spring and birds nesting are seen
The only helicopers, an occasional dragonfly
There are no bombs falling from the sky
Just fragrant blossoms floating down
No trenches here, dug in the ground,
just soldier ants marching around...
the birds and the wind, the only sound
One thing above all that I hold dear
All is tranquil peace here........ in this place,
If only I could just gather the world into here
and,would that we could,remain in this space,
....................and forget the war`s scheming
..............become lost in Carolina dreaming
İFaye Sizemore 3/28/03
 Listening to 'Skynyrd'....'Sweet Home Alabama'
Time
as memory
of a bootlace
...a cigarette
riding the horse
of war
soldiers
gone in a moment
mud
..blood!
just being so goddamned tired
going home
hating myself for being alive.
.....................................................................
...........................................................
It will be same same
for them...over in Iraq
nothing has changed
the danger and death
...... the remains,
......moments
hours
.......weeks
falling from minutes
toward
seconds in hell!
where do we go young soldier?
to home
or to hell?
what was the name of that damn horse
we rode?
so far away.
Horse with flaming nostrils
........sparks
burning our hands
as we held on for the ride
.......crazy damn ride.
I have forgotten so much
of myself...then
scars remain young Bro
...from somewhere
long ago.
İLJKaliber
3/30/03
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