Always A Rifle on My Shoulder

Always A Rifle on My Shoulder
Nov. 28, 2009

Teter's Vietnam Reflections

’Tis a song of heart contrite,
Of fearless men, young and bright.
Innocent boys of their generation,
Poor bastards of creation.
Bald headed and dirty faced,
With scrawny arms and skinny waists.
Rugged regulars and rusty guns,
Heaving and dying on heavy runs.
Infantile jokes of girlfriends past,
Little treasures happily recast.
Brothers few in earthen holes,
Rain or snow, they are happy souls.
A photograph of home far away,
Hide their tears, courage portray.
Amidst the enemies, death, and dearth they smile to,
Youthful innocence sacrificed; these for their country do.
But at dawn when they fall to hostile foes,
In a little box their body goes.
At homecoming no glory greet,
No parade or high honors, oh bittersweet.
His only friends remember him,
In trenches and firefights they sing his hymn.
In mud, blood and beer they give a toast,
For no braver a soldier can they ever boast.

Remembering

Remembering
Jan. 17, 2010

Sickert's The Blind Sea Captain
 
I run my hand through your face,
Mapping every soft curve; your beauty trace.
I try to remember the details: every line, every crease.
I’ll take all the time the clocks would lease.
For when I’m old and gray,
When my memories nary stay,
Even then I want to remember how you looked,
God forgive me for all the moments I forsook,
Because when I’m old and gray,
When my own eyesight betray,
I want your face, sweet and bright,
To be the only thing my remembrances of this world recite.

Mother of Mine

Mother of Mine
May 9, 2010

Langley's Daydream

Mother of mine, how far have I been?
From the womb of yours to oceans deep,
From your loving arms to the hostile desert sands,
To the farthest corners I ran, never looking back from whence I came
Yet every step I took, you missed me still.

Mother of mine, tell me how hard has it been?
From the moment you found out I was going to be around, your dreams cut short
To the moment I arrived in your arms, burden on your every walk
The heavier I grew; the toll motherhood took on you
Yet every pain responsibility gave you, you loved me still.

Mother of mine, how many tears have you shed?
From my heaviest breathing to deathly convulsions' embrace
From the news of war to all my shameful failures
Despite my mortality that became your sorrow
With all the worrying I gave, you were proud of me still.

Mother of mine, were you scared then?
You were just nineteen, and the world was so big
I took your youthful beauty away and put those wrinkles on you
You had to wrap those ambitions and took a gray hair or two
You know I could never pay but you’ve never asked for anything still.

Mother of mine, would you change it all?
No more sleepless nights or the choice to put the food in mine instead of yours
You didn’t have to lie and plead to my teachers in detention that I was really a good little boy
Nor smile proudly of my diplomas, because you could have been with yours
Yet if you were given an option, I know you’d always pick to go hungry than see me so.

Mother of mine, remember how you use to tower over me?
Now these three little boys ain’t so little any more.
So busy with our ambitions, we forget to even call.
We waste our time with revelry and women; we’ve forgotten you’re the best of them all.
Though you’ve always remembered me, Mother sadly I can’t say the same for you.

Mother of mine, I hope you could hear these words
Your undeserving son, just want you to hear.
Mother of mine I’ll make it up someday
They’ll know I’m your son and the things you did for me.
When you’re old and weak, and the world has forgotten you,
Then, even then like you did Mother of mine, I will love you still.

My Love Affair with Sunday Mornings

Fleeting or My Love Affair with Sunday Mornings
Apr. 24, 2010

Rosetti's Beata Beatrix

I watched thee from afar
With strain in my breast and water in these eyes
The soft bounce of your hair burned kohl black
And the air that fluttered your soft drape
Opened forth the gates of Eden in me
That lifted the core and tinted its skies

I longed for thee from a distance
With yearning in my thoughts and fire on my skin
The soft shadow of an immaculate face grace the day with happiness' gift
The glow of your brown eyes lay unknown
The joy which turned into the pallor of grief
Knowing they shan’t turn to me

But I still loved thee from my post
Though with pain in my heart and sorrow in my mind
I waited for the beauty that glimmered ever on each Sun’s Day, that begot its fervor from thee.
The excitement of the heavens with thy soft skin that played with its angelic rays
Evermore to see you walk down on those mortal steps
And to those arms' clasps forever be kept; to another that gave thee thy smile.