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by scott Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Essay · Military · #1778015
first attempt at putting down thoughts and history. is non-E because of some profanity
I was over there while you slept
In your neighborhood I’m not llowwed in
HOUSE BE MORE MONEY I MAKE THIS LIFETIME
Protecting you from enemies invented in your
Factificating manufacturing of fearhate
Little bits of facts stretched like the dough I knead
Left to rise into the bread of spin
NICE CRUST WITH A GOOD TOOTH
And little else but the odor of sour
Was the money that good to sell your soul?
I live here now
MIGHT HAVE TO USE 2ND AMENDMENT REMEDIES
Feeling your cross hairs
WE DIDN’T MEAN A RIFLE SCOPE
MORE LIKE THAT THING SURVEYORS USE
That’s a theodolite dipsh*t
WE ARE GRANTED FREEDOM OF SPEECH, YOU CANT YELL FIRE IN A CROWDED THEATER, BUT YOU CAN SAY MOST ANYTHING
That’s why I was there
Town airport on the water dashing around the oceans and seas
JUST FLY A COUPLE OF JETS WITH THE RED WHITE AND BLUE ON THE TAIL DOWN MAINSTREET
Is that what it takes to make allies
Ever see a rockeye go?? I mean a CBU-100.
247 little bundles of joy that will
(detonate and generate 250,000 psi overpressure)
Turn their main street into a river of red
(guaranteed to penetrate over 7” of armor plate)
with shredded bodies and buildings as banks
Wont talk to me either
Was there for them
Two faces they show
one hand shakes mine
the other steals from my future
Is that what you’re paid in
Sweat stolen from my brow
Dreams ripped from a father’s heart
Was supposed to be better for you
That’s why I went
AH, THE BEACHES OF NORTHERN FRANCE IN THE LATE SPRING
Collected bodies in the sand
Life essence gone
Washed away to feed the fish
A LITTLE TO COLD FOR SWIMMING, BUT WALK THE BEACH AND SEE ALL THE INTERESTING THINGS THE STORMS WASH ASHORE
They popped up and floated ashore for weeks.
Remains of life
Covered by the same uniform I wore
I DON’T CARE WHAT KINDA UNIFORM IT HAS ON
YOU AINT BURYING NO N*GGER SAILOR IN THIS CEMETARY
He was a colored kid in our group
We hadn’t been there that long
He was doing his job and he slipped and fell and drown
I drew short straw and had find a place to bury him
You cried and your hands
Held me on your lap as we read the comics
You dapper in robe with goatee and pipe
Me in diaper and shirt
Trembled in angerfearshame
They stole the dream from you
DON’T WANT YOU JERKING OFF GAS PUMPS THE REST OF YOUR LIFE
Were you upset when you heard I make car parts?
Dream gone log ago in a mind that fragments and scatters
Jumping from this page to splitting wood to pork or beef for this weeks meal
AND THEN HE SAID I’M KINDA SCATTERBRAINED BUT MY CONDITION HAS A NAME
ADD
Numbers left to right for speed to approximate
Radcon math you called it
To use when the glowing rocks escape containment
Quick find out how many alphas we have breathed before our masks were tight and our suits on
OUTFIT LIKE THAT BOY, ONLY THING YOU’RE MISSING IS THE CHAQUITA SEAL
To go look
Hoping it’s a drill and not a micro Chernobyl 500 feet from where I
Sleep that brought the dream those years
COLOR AND SOUND SO VIVID ITS LIKE YOU’RE THERE
My water broke we need to go
Its seven weeks early I say
Baby’s not crying as they cut the cord
Separated from her forever
Baby rushed out one door
Me rushed out a different one
Put her under deep, we’ve got a mess
I felt his spirit go home
Please watch over dear Jesus my savior
And helped carry the tiny white box filled with what was left
To a hole in the cold ground
CAREFULLY EDITED AND PRESENTED FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE
Glad it was a drill
K19 widowmaker wasn’t out yet
Would I be that heroic if asked
Go contain the stones that glow
Wearing only a paper suit
Not behind a lead wall covering the mess with layers of concrete and lead
Cells killed and scrambled by rays you cannot see
SO WHAT DO WE HAVE FOR HIM AS A PARTING GIFT?
How about A GROWING RIB LUMP?
Fought the sleep
If I’m awake and with others and talk and work till I fall down maybe I won’t dream
The dream was only for me
He won’t take it; you must give it to HIM
Kept my soul toward the dark side
He took the dream given and placed with the ones like it in the pit of hell
New dream ???
Waking
He’s supposed to still be deep under
Sharp pain
This ain’t no dream
Is this how it felt my savior when the blade entered your broken body hanging on the tree
Hold still we got to put the tube where it needs to be
By my heart
The spilled life essence draining from the hole in Your side
Mine into a tube to a bag in a box I carry
Did the stones that glow twist and scramble the cells in my chest
Doc I thought it was a bug bite
Got the CAT scan back, it’s a lump
Special bits of glowing stones into the vein of my arm
A bone scan should tell us what we need
Mooning evening traffic in backless gown
Opened my eyes while the scanner was over me
Is this what it looks like before they seal the top of your tomb?
It’s a lump and it’s growing
Arm is sore from where they leaned their elbows to get leverage to use the rib cutter
Kinda like what you use to trim your dog’s toenails
Sweet lord, I’m sorry if this is how it felt
You hanging there for me
Razor sharp steel fighting its way thru flesh
Why is my arm on fire?
Carefully missing my heart
6000 ten-day toothaches condensed to 10 seconds
Fought against the straps
Oh fudge
Am I such a wimp to react like this?
im sorry blessed savior
please protect me and keep me safe
you’d feel safer with a gun
weight of a colt commander on my waist or just the source of another dream
exhale completely
deep breath
let ½ out/pulse calm eyes fixed
pip and vee aligned on center mass all humanity gone from you once you targeted me
squeeze gently don’t pull
3 times before your next breath
how many times did you do that grandpa Bob?
What happened in Egypt?
How did it become easy to shift what you saw from person to center body mass?
Your son wrote that there were sixteen marks on the stock
Who could be knocking at this hour?
You gotta go Bob. The ship out there leaves with the tide. Be on it. Here’s your ticket and passport, its marked in red and says VOID. You can’t come back. We need the rifle to….
But Mary and the little ones?
They will be looked after. Be on the f*ckin boat. We will clean the rifle and find it on some f*ckin finean.
Your son wrote that he went with you to the row boat and went with him to the ship and you said good by and his dad was gone into the night.
this aint tv no halt or ill shoot or drop the gun
Just the first click of the hammer before your chest looks like Gary Gilmores seconds after lets do it
Another bad dream to give to Him
I am safe because I don’t have a gun and I have Him to watch over me
A GOD for adults, who has a son who gave His life for me
Only two people in this world who gave their life for you no questions asked, Jesus and the American serviceman
I never got to know him, my uncle Roger.
Older than my mom he had left the ranch for Washington state. Like his brothers, he enlisted and when they asked for volunteers, became a paratrooper. He dropped from the sky into the land of tulips, east of where my dad took care of those who unloaded the ships, south of a bridge too far, north of the band of brothers. With about 15 others, he helped occupy a cross roads east of Nijmegen.
It had been quiet for a while. We had found a jar of jam and made a sweet hot drink out of it. We heard the screams of the meme and everyone ran to their hole. Coffin and ? took a direct hit. There was nothing we could do.

I met him once, my daughter’s classmate Josiah.
He was in two of my classes. The school was so small that juniors and seniors we sometimes in the same classes. He was the only person I knew in that whole Christian school who would do something for you without wanting something in return.
We arrived at the church and passed thirty flags held by veterans as we walked to the door. I couldn’t control the tears and quit trying. Same division as Roger, different regiment. Division CO’s eyes weren’t dry either.
Excuse me sir. I offered him my hand and he shook it. Thank you.
Watched the motorcade leave. The tears flowed. Without thinking I came to attention and stood that way till the last vehicle left.
Excuse me. TV crews behind me. BIG NEWS. THE MOTORCADE WAS OVER 2 MILES LONG. Would you care to make a comment on camera?
BRAIN SHIFTS INTO ADD FAST MODE
My fifteen minutes in the spot light.
I will tell them what a waste it was, the death of Josiah.
Tell them about the dream stealers and spin bakers.
Tell them that this great-grandson, grandson, son, nephew, cousin, second cousin, stepfather, and uncle of veterans who is a retired US Navy vet himself is sick of it.
Sick of the waste.
Sick of the spin.
Tell them about the first rule of war:
YOUNG PEOPLE (we lose women now, too.) DIE.
Then the second rule of war:
NOTHING
You do or say or hope or
how epic you make the struggle or
how noble you make the cause or
however you try to justify it, spin it, recycle it or
DEAR GOD PLEASE FORGIVE ME
Pray about it
CAN CHANGE RULE NUMBER ONE.
But then it would have been about me, not about this young man who
would never be able to help anyone
or father kids
or write songs
or paint pictures
EVER AGAIN.
I squeezed my wife’s hand and sobbed
No, I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it.














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