markmurphywrites.com
Stuck in the house again,
Where else could I go?
I can see the mountains from here,
But they have a dusting of snow.
Locked in the house again,
Where else could I go?
I see a creek and two trails,
Just beyond the back window.
Trapped in the house again,
Where else could I go?
I watch the cars fly by,
Heading to dinner or a show?
Caged in the house again,
Where else could I go?
I’m mired in a sprawling city,
What to do? I don’t know.
They stretch and they run and they test their worth,
These mighty beasts of the sod and the turf.
They jog in and they sprint out of the tunnel to cheers,
An anthem is sung, people pick up their beers.
It’s time for the dance of the giants up front,
While the little ones scurry on their way.
A dashing move here, a crash and a crunch,
Balls carried, thrown, and kicked for play.
The roars once so loud, they fade in no time,
There’s praying and hugging and cries.
It’s all over now, the crowds push to get out,
Our heroes walk off with the prize.
Gently set fresh paper
between each margin stop.
Crank over cylinder knob,
wait for bail bar to drop.
Hand on carriage return,
align guide pointer at top.
Fingers poised on keys,
Striker swings up with a pop!
We were merely kids,
when they gave us jets to fly.
Some battled academics,
can’t hide behind a lie.
Then up in the air,
instructors yelling yes and no.
A few short weeks later,
Proving we can fly solo.
We were merely kids,
but they gave us jets to fly!
Some battled alcohol,
stress of advancement so high.
Time for bigger jets,
but no extra time to learn.
Eat, breathe, fly, and sleep,
we have silver wings to earn.
We were merely kids,
and they gave us jets to fly.
Some battled ego,
gods dancing across the sky.
Time for graduation,
what assignments will we get?
Off to battle in combat,
are we ready for it yet?
I plead with my mind to type something.
Anything.
Any little thought,
No matter how big or small,
Which might spark something bigger.
I feel my chest tightening,
Pressure building in my head.
Why can’t I type?
Why can’t I think?
I reach for a pack of cigarettes,
But the hollow crinkling of cellophane
Speaks of what I already know.
I shouldn’t have quit yesterday,
Or the day before that.
Dawn will break soon.
Do I have faith in a greater good,
something bigger than myself?
Is it found in hope for community,
found in giving to someone else?
What do I love, where did my time go,
am I preaching without walking?
Let me sit with you, tell me your story,
Love is much more than talking.
Sunrise in the east
Purple mountain majesty
The pink slowly fades
(First Veterans Day out of uniform since 1997!)
Time to hang it up
Operation is over
Victory unknown
In the heat of the battle
How I’d long for it to be over
Always on high alert
The call to support troops in contact
The call often wouldn’t come
Adrenaline was high as soon as it did
We worked together as one
Impossible to break our unity and trust
After bedding down the jet
I would go decompress
And long to do it again
When I wake, I wish to see
mountains staring back at me.
But the storm has come, and snow is falling.
Mountains, when will you come calling?