wolfdrummer13

[wolfdrummer13]

The Mirth of Monsters A picture appeared on my phone today, on the proverbial page I perused.

A view of an evil most vile, villainy veiled behind verve and vim.

Sadists from Auschwitz, smiling in a storm. Shoulders shrugging, to shield from the sky.

No hint of the horrors, the Holocaust they heralded. Not haunted like the humans they harrow, but hyenas, howling, in high humor after the hunt.

Their consciences clear, their cruelty concealed, their cheer chills me to the core. They caused such wicked calvary, a calamity that echoes into the current century.

Yet they dare to delight, while they deal in death and dread. Their depravity so deep that they grin, as they decry virtue and destroy millions.

But what mortifies me more is, how mundane their mien.

Will we fear the next fiends fittingly, or in time... if their faces feel like friends'?

#poetry #poem #writing #photo #photograph #picture #sad #scary #holocaust #disturbing #nazis #fascism #auschwitz #concentration camps #horror #revulsion #disgust #evil #fear #humanity #monsters

[wolfdrummer13]

Each an Epitaph

I want to run from the grief, from the crippling and the tears. But that dread is a secret thief - out to steal away the memories, the years.

I'll be damned if he'll get your names, if I'll let him make off with your stories. That's why you take up the wall with your frames - why I must ever tell of your exploits, our glories.

Every time we weep, it is revisited love, perhaps torn by loss, but nonetheless preserved. Safe from fading away and the second death thereof - from that feared fate of true oblivion, an end undeserved.

So, folks, value that pain and grip it tight, for it means only that they are still alive. Whether you sing, compose, tell, draw, or write - you are the bearer of their tales, their living archive.

#writing #poem #poetry #grief #love #loss #hope #memorial #in memoriam #death #friends #memory #remembrance #afterlife

[wolfdrummer13]

Please

You know, I've been keeping count.

Of the years, of the friends. Those gained and lost, the memories and the cost.

I'm not sure which has topped the weight class - the good, the laughs and the light, or the pain, the loss and that sight.

Of the headstones, the folded flags; the mothers' cries and brothers' eyes.

I know the count of them all.

Today a year goes to rest, and a new cycle begins. I beg of Life a reprieve, a chance less to grieve.

I know not what to offer, what you would take in trade - be it a life, or a soul, part of me or the whole.

Whatever it may be, however large the demand; take off this accursed gyve, and leave them alive.

#poetry #poem #writing #sad #death #grief #loss #plea #please #no more #kin #family #grieving #dying #pain #friend #friends #sorrow #tired #beg #begging #bereavement #bereaved #deal

[wolfdrummer13]

Life vs. Wade

We can't have a child. It's not a matter of want, of belief, of opinion. We cannot.

Every doctor says, my wife will die. The child might live, or might not, but the love of my life will not, not a guess, not a chance. Just a death.

You can give your life, for another's. Your death can stop one more, if you're a cop, a soldier, a hero, a nobody. But we can't make you do it.

There is no law for that. If a soldier lays down his life, he is awarded, praised, if he doesn't, he is not punished. Not imprisoned for living.

So why would my wife trade, at best, her life for one she will never meet? Why would I trade my love's life for a roll of the dice on another? Why should we be forced to?

For a heartbeat, a whisper of a breath, that may never make it out of the womb? For a bitter, beaten man to live alone or with the child who reminds him of loss? Why should anyone else get to say?

Why should anyone else get a choice, even if such weren't true? Why should you get to choose that she bear still heart, again and again? To satisfy your hope, not hers?

Why should you get to speak, if a woman has no voice? If she has no money for a child, no wish to birth her abuser's spawn? To please your god, not hers?

Why should you get to decide, why should you get the last word? On any life that isn't your own, any consequence not yours to bear? To save an unborn life, not hers?

You should not. It is not your choice, not your life, not your grief, your sorrow, your freedom or your death. It is only, your opinion.

There is no right to such thoughts, only control. Gather your countdowns to a week, your milestones and your markers, your intentions for the lives of strangers. Burn them, turn such vile filth into ash.

Women owe society no life. No attempt at a child, no health, no life wasted, in death or in despair, just for a chance at someone else's hope. Someone else's decision.

Why should a fetus be sacred, when the life, voice and sanctity of the woman it could become - so clearly mean nothing to you?

#poetry #poem #writing #abortion #wade #roe #roe versus wade #roe v wade #roe vs. wade #life #pain #sad #misc #miscellaneous #child #children #fetus #legal #legality #love #women #rights #women's rights

[wolfdrummer13]

Adamant

Bacon and sausage. Dogs and music. Whiskey and a wife's smile.

Sometimes, surely, it is just that simple.

Lately it has not been. Not in life, not in fiction, not in poetry.

One year, maybe three poems. All about grief. One imagined, yet real - a son's song for a father's tale. Two, too true and too close - a brother to the scion, a brother to the sire.

Tributes written, loss spoken, still silent the muse, on all besides - stanzas only flowing when so too the tears.

Yet, my life ended not with theirs; neither will I let my story. Not my life's, not my characters', not my verses.

Songs and stories yet remain, so too adventure and poetry. Amidst vowing not to forget the fallen, I forgot those things instead.

Fuck that.

They will see my pen fly on, for thoughts large and little, momentous and mundane. No peace comes from staying my hand.

So I will write, today, of bacon and sausage. Of dogs and music. Of whiskey and a wife's smile.

Today, if no other, it is just that simple.

#poetry #poem #writing #hope #pain #sad #trying #moving on #moving forward #simple

[wolfdrummer13]

Hush, Crooned the Night

Here I sit on this night so still, not a rustle in the leaves nor a stirring in the grass.

No whispers intrude; naught but mine.

Ill news after days spent ill, unwelcome foreword to grief inexorable more like than not.

No answers come; naught but malign.

A thirst I can never quell, a gulp seeming to smash the silence whilst whiskey spars with the fear.

No solace is on tap; naught but fake.

A call from inside breaks the spell, an urging for sleep's cocoon next to a lover's warmth.

No closure can I find; naught but striding on.

#poetry #poem #writing #loss #love #sad #death #family #grandma #grandmother #grief #worry #unrest #tired

[wolfdrummer13]

Bye for Now

A new year has rounded the corner, with grave news hard on its heels. A father's friend at kinship's dawn, a clan's family, by life's sudden dusk.

In so many respects my father's twin, he could look in a mirror and see Chuck. To say 'brother' seems not strong enough, not nearly a sufficing title for the man.

Growing up, he was simply an uncle, another sarcastic voice in the choir. Shipmate, soundboard, confidant, kin; fellow gamer, writer, musical connoisseur.

Buddy, mentor, verbal sparring partner; hilarious, caring, intelligent, smart-ass. Always a phone call or a flight away, each of these things, to each of us or to all.

Thirty years his junior - yet he asked my advice on, and I got to be present for, his first, and sadly only, tattoo.

He got to meet my wife last year, for which I am beyond thankful. He sought her counsel for his next tattoo, which will now be another of hers.

An easy man to like, with an easy smile and easier laugh, now a hard man to miss - but with good stories, of a greater man.

And for those who knew him; be grateful for having known the dead, and hold to hope that 'bye' - is only for now.

#poetry #poem #writing #grief #death #sad #loss #family #uncle #brother #tribute #memorial #goodbye

[wolfdrummer13]

Within and Without

One month.

One gone, spent on escape, on memory and on loss, one down, without you - how many more to go?

How many brothers will I bury, left behind to carry the weight? One more down, one more stolen - how many more to go?

You were first to drink, to flirt, to speak to a stranger; first to support, to laugh, to commit, utterly, to new friends.

You are first in our hearts, living in pictures on the wall; first in our thoughts, every day, your face alive in each tear fallen.

A song asks me a question, do you know where your heart is? And all I can think is, within and without.

Within my chest, within my memories; within what I hold closest. Without - in my family, on my sleeves, with you for so long, and suddenly without.

Each day, more and more I miss you, and I'm beginning to miss me too. You're the one the world stole away - so why am I the one who's the ghost?

These things grow so damned heavy - these burdens, these tears, these sorrows, these bracelets, these tattoos, these steps - how many more to go?

#poetry #poem #writing #death #memorial #sad #loss #tribute #family #friendship #friend #bestfriend #bereaved #bereavement #love

[wolfdrummer13]

Today’s Pledge

Cheers to the lost, the fallen and gone. Cheers, the best I can say today of that the endless, final cost. Cheers, all I have in me today after missing you another damned dawn. All that your life has come to; every lesson, every laugh, every memory and moment - to a memorial, to a toast. I have only this today, only words, and your name said forevermore. I can only hope it is enough.

#poetry #poem #writing #love #loss #sad #death #memorial #memorial day #memoriam #military #sacrifice

[wolfdrummer13]

Still on Patrol

Can you hear the whispers brought on by the wind storming? Carried true by the harpers, the tale the howls are forming? Came a knock at the farmer's door, a mailed fist with a fate to turn. A sob, a wail, a call to war, a boy, a son, home soon to yearn. Soon a soldier strode from youth, to the beat of the king's drum. A shield his hide, a sword his tooth, his pack stood the night to come. Oh for the heroes of men, the ones who hold the line - oh for the kin behind, the ones who hold to hope. Silence broke to a thunderous horn, the battle joined with the savage horde. On a bloody tide he thus was borne, death he granted and fury he roared. Silence returned with a blade's sigh, sanguine as it was ripped away. A keen, a dirge, a mother's cry, a man, a son, home soon to lay. Oh for the heroes of men, the ones who hold the line - oh for the kin behind, the ones who hold to hope. A place to rest he was given, a peace he has not taken. To guard, to serve he is driven, his will, his resolve unshaken. So when you see a warrior's mound, shed not a tear to hear the bugle - hark rather the marching sound, for he yet walks the vigil.

#poetry #poem #writing #song #fantasy #death #sad #medieval #war #battle #warriors #military #allegory #story

[wolfdrummer13]

The Gypsy’s Rest

One big road trip around the sun, not that much time, from the long view. 2020 has taken ages and is not quite done, and a lifetime I yet want with you. One day, we swore, we would find our way back, to the places and people we'd left behind. Time and again, our whole lives we've had to pack, box it all up, new friends and chances to find. One friend, into my circle charming her way, with a joke about mana and health. Now you're in my arms at the end of every day, and there is no better form of wealth. One home I promised when you joined me here, a place to belong, no longer to roam. Here we can both rest with the other near, and each day know, at last we are home.

#poetry #poem #writing #anniversary #home #love #relationship #romance #romantic #friend #friendship #best friend

[wolfdrummer13]

The Bonds of September

Every year on one day in September, we bear a duty to recall.

We were afraid merely to watch that day, let alone to live through the despair. From around the corner and worlds away, we heard that fear and love go on the air.

They fought evil with what could be found, in their hands and their collective soul. They fought terror with comfort in sound, calls to home and voices to console.

Tears fell on either side of many phones, last words and hopes were sent both ways. Their stories are told in proud and choked tones, each one adding to how much the day weighs.

The pain we feel in calling it to mind, as a sliver to those who were bereaved. They have no choice in leaving it behind, so nor should we of this charge be relieved.

Ever on we must strive to remember, the day the two towers did fall.

#poetry #poem #writing #9/11 #september #september 11 #september 11th #loss #memorial #tribute #memory #duty #sad #pain #family #heroes #america

[wolfdrummer13]

Apparitions in the Audience

There are ghosts in the night, and they're watching us as we dream. Yet these are not there for fright, or to grin and stare as we scream.

They are those we used to know, whether yet living or among the dead. Those kin that were lost long ago, or past selves we never fully shed.

There are ghosts in our hearts, and they're watching us as we proceed. In our lives they've played their parts, and now rest after handing us the lead.

They are walking along the paths we take, feeling the lives we touch and the places we go. They are with us for every choice we make, gazing through our own eyes at how we grow.

Will they like what they see?

#poetry #poem #writing #rhyme #ghosts #future #growth #introspective #pensive #perspective #self #spiritual #surreal #watching #spirits #apparitions

[wolfdrummer13]

Now ‘Tis the Evening

Today held many a smile, wide ones, blazing under the cloudless heavens. I put off thoughts of the date - those musings are for the evening.

Today held my attention, with tasks, so that my mind wouldn't wander. I deferred memories unasked for - remember them in the evening.

Today held good tidings, days awaited, a personal pratique in times of pandemic. I tabled tremors and tears impending - save every one for the evening.

Now 'tis the evening, and rain has come from that blue sky. That family not of blood, but of bonds, smiling behind my eyes but not before them.

Now 'tis the evening, and my heart has cast adrift. All we spoke of was one day going home, and a part of me stayed with those who never can.

Now 'tis the evening, and I await the next solemn messenger. A new name is drawn in alternating years, so I dread the list when next I see this day.

Here I am at the close of this weighty day considering this world's caprices, such that I've had nearly more time and memory with the graves than with the men.

I held the day's soul long at bay - but now 'tis the evening.

#poetry #poem #writing #death #sad #sadness #loss #memorial #memorial day #memory #memories #pain #military

[wolfdrummer13]

Behind the Sole

Days ago, in the realm of sleep I stepped into another man's shoes. When I walked out of them, from the dream I woke weeping.

These shoes were on the feet of a black youth of sixteen years. I saw through his eyes, and Jim Crow still ruled the day.

I saw color through his eyes, not the black and white of the screens. I saw a restaurant filled with laughter, a family of smiles and of love.

I saw a boy with not much schooling, trying to learn how to write a sign. I saw the mood shift through his eyes, when brutes walked in with hate in theirs.

I saw, through his eyes now tearing, black and white - yelling and screaming. I saw the struggle to keep writing, as slurs fell like the blows that followed.

I saw not what his hands were weaving, while focused on pale beasts posing as men. Not 'til he shakingly held up his work, and I saw his eyes land on his words.

"Those men won't let me speak, because my words might heal."

I stepped into another man's shoes days ago, in the realm of sleep. I know not the cobbler, nor the sender, but from the message I woke weeping.

#race #racism #dream #message #sad #pain #violence #hate #hatred #poem #poetry #writing

[wolfdrummer13]

The Traveller’s Coronach

Here now you lay, kin to the last, as a mournsome wind whistles past. Where do its tones and its currents take you, you who have given more than is your due?

May the birds borne aloft on its breath carry your tale past the sill of death, bearing our memories in their cries sung brightly among the sundry skies.

We resolve to bear you with us as well, recalled in every wood, meadow and dell. For when the nights grow cold and long, we will warm ourselves with your song.

Each time we chance to walk this way our respects we will come to pay, for the victories and the cost of the honored and of the lost.

#death #sad #loss #pain #eulogy #elegy #dirge #song #poem #poetry #writing #sadness #mourning #mournful #mourn #legacy

[wolfdrummer13]

Outbreak

We stand on ice that feels much too thin, six feet suddenly feeling like miles. Our footing is loose on this shaky ground, and the cracks can be heard all around.

I see the fearmongering, the conspiracies, the boredom and the sadness of separation, the blame and the vitriolic remarks - yet amidst it all, I also see sparks.

They reside in the eyes of the kind, the saints, they light the fires in our heroes' hearts. They shocked the minds that took this crazy race to space, and they'll carry us out of this frightening place.

They kindle the muse in the artists, keeping everyone as sane as can be. They ignited that burning midnight oil that fuels the healer's noble toil.

There they are, surrounding so many hands, touching but for the pane of glass; there again, glinting on that man's flag as stars, shining for those in the passing cars.

On our media they jump from post to post, from puzzles to videos, to jokes and "I spys", from pictures to chatting, and all in between - living in smiles passed through a screen.

Yawning before us is this chasmic abyss, but we have what it takes not to fall. Hope is in those sparks, our humanity, our drive - let them burn, let them spread, and we will survive.

#virus #corona #coronavirus #covid #covid-19 #humanity #hope #love #society #humans #misc #miscellaneous #poetry #poem #writing