Flashback Nightmare

I scrambled around and searching hard
Wreaking the bed in my haste
My wife wakes up but can’t understand
Me frantically searching at night

Well sweated up and hurting like hell
I finally wake up with a bang
Fully aware of what I was doing
And searching for steel I once had

Too many things were getting me down
My mind being torn apart
As a result I ran back the clock
And that was raising my dead.

Simple to cure in days gone cold
Someone would die from afar
But that was then and this is now
When all I can do is fret.

The popper’s night

In the grey-est of nights we plodded along
Looking for something in nothing at all

Tired sore feet and numb with the cold
Some brains asleep but a few still alert

The softest of clicks and everyone froze
All looked down and around their toes

Odds went backwards as evens kept watch
Nothing was said to the one who was stuck

Back on the road and two went to help
With cover all set we lay there reposed

Then loud went the popper and some shuddered breath
All knew that sound and the subsequent mess

The two came back slowly with tags and his pack
They drinking deeply from the boss man’s flask

We didn’t ask and reformed in vee
To finish our scan and later to grieve.

Death’s Wood

The wind had taste
A bite in the throat,
The yellowish tint
Of an acid air.

Like bones being rattled
I would imagine,
As the stark trees
Struck on another.

No song of bird
No rustle of leaf,
That silent wood
Made me ill at ease.

If it was winter
Or fire had raged,
If insects devoured
I may have seen.

Yet none of this
Had happened here,
As this was the work
Of man.

Cold in the nest

Shiver not in the cold of dawn
No mist from my breath
My dampened scarf
Smothering wet heat.

No swipe at a fly
No scratching that bite
No smack for the bug
That’s chewing my neck

Dry mouth, sore eyes
Full bladder and I’d kill for a piss
I think I’ve still got feet and
Wet sausages for fingers

The cramp’s getting worse
And my back is a mess
The hold swinging gently
An eight is its quest

Then glass captures movement
So BRASS I address
A punch in the shoulder
And back home to bed.

Look deep into the skies, as those with wings are seldom angels.

Sitting in our home I shut down again as I heard the drone of heavy rotors.
My wife knew the signs but never knew the full reason why it affected me so badly. Till tonight as I told her what we had seen.

Imagine, if you can, two of us in a nest
With gun ships flying overhead towards a little village
Where children played, dogs barked, and farmers worked
A place where no bad had happened or come from there.

For some reason the bastards opened fire on the village.

One pass was all it took to wreck the village.
My spotter throwing up and crying as she saw the end result
Those cannon had done their job well, and nothing moved below.

When we reported what we had seen, even the hardened of the team looked around with pained and angered eyes.

Was any action taken when the report was passed along?
As always, no one who eats apple pie ever gets held responsible.

Anyway, later that night, someone scrawled this by the main door.
Look deep into the skies, as those with wings are seldom angels.

For those who do not know, a lot of soldiers are superstitious and a few have some sort of talisman they carry everywhere, especially into combat. A lucky elastic band is a ‘Hollywood’ example.
However, some will write a few words on something which is left casually lying about for anyone to read. It can be a phrase, I’ve seen biblical verses, or something they know is a life truth.

The why is for them to know and few will admit to doing so.
However, it is a very effective way of getting a point across to others who sometimes don’t take kindly to advice.

Lui passes on.

Lining up the shot that day
With Lui spotting by my side
This last shot and that was it
I knew that she’d be free.

It’s tiring to carry another soul
Them asking nothing but needing all
Yet as he died I heard from Lui
Her sexy sigh of old.

With nothing said I made to leave
But Lui she pressed me down
Then up she stood I knew not why
And she was hammered down

As she fell she looked at me
With a smile and words so sad
I’m sorry, she said . . .
And my world turned black

Lui’s pained life had ended there
And sleep I couldn’t get
We all drank hard with deaden minds
To a girl we called ‘little sister’.

They all saw what she’d done
But nothing said assuaged my pain
As shooting true for Lui that day
I’d ended her pain and her life.


Sung by a pair on a busker’s pitch
A gentle guitar and a voice so clear
I’ve heard it before in all of its forms
But today in public I heard its words.

I sat for a while with blank in my mind
Eyes closed tight yet dripping with tears
I saw all my friends of many past beers
Their terrible jokes, still ribbing me dear.

Through two encores I spoke with my friends
Then I realized someone was waking me up
My anger was hot and my words well barbed
But the moment was lost and they had gone dark.

Farewell Dear friends, I said in my head
Sleep well with your beer in Valhalla’s beds
No anger or pain will find you there
And I know sometime we’ll speak again.

Stranger Danger

Allow no advance, lest his speed be too quick
Stay under cover, lest he see what you keep
Lay nothing to ground, lest it slows your reply.

Keep far from a stranger, lest he try to beguile
Look not in his eyes, lest you show him within
Show no back to a stranger, lest he works with a knife.

Talk plain not in code, but not all the book
Talk short not at length, lest your mind get involved
Never lie but omit, lest he knows all the truth.

Never word any anger, lest he shoots as you rave
Tell nothing of you, lest he works out your route
Don’t sway to his words, lest he’s telling you untruths.

Take no gift from them, lest the price be yourself
Make no gift to them, lest they think it a trick
Trade hard for that nail, lest they think you too weak.

Let him camp where you tell him, lest he walks as you sleep
Post a guard to keep watching, lest he attack as you sleep
And watch careful his going, lest he return for his prize.

It’s Alright

As I grew up I pushed people away
When all that I wanted
Was someone to hug
And tell me it’s alright.

Older now, too old to fight
I push no longer in the night
Yet I still need someone there
To say it’s alright.

When it’s my time
And I take my last breath
I hope someone will be there
To tell me that it’s alright.

Born to live, then to die
My fear is known by many
To face my death all alone
With no one to say it’s alright.