In case you missed it, feel free to click the link below to listen to my radio interview on the Heroes of the Heartland Radio program from this morning! Thank you all so much for the continued support for this project! I used to say it meant the world to me, and it does, but now I am starting to see that there is a bigger picture. Thank you for all the phone calls, texts, and emails. Keep them coming!
You don’t think I know you , but have done my homework,
Learning the details of your life, not bothered by your smirk.
I see how this will go, you think you are smarter than I am,
You will tell me an unbelievable story, I will pretend to believe, but don’t really give a damn.
You are not the first, and certainly will not be the last,
Hundreds just like you , through the front door they have passed.
I am going to sit here with friendly smile and an ear to lend,
I promise you when this is over, you will break and not bend.
I come to work and listen to lies every day, people trying to remember what they said,
You lecture me about the law, professing any evidence, there is not a shred.
I sit quietly and listen, as we play this failing game,
Pointing your finger at everyone else, yet we both know you are to blame.
Like actor in a play, where there is a beginning, middle, and end,
Words like a ballet dance off your tongue, as I pretend to be your friend.
If you really knew what I was thinking, watching you pick imaginary lint with your finger nail,
You would be sitting in horror, knowing you are clearly going to jail.
Now your story is over, and it is my turn to play,
I’ve watched your nervous ticks, heard every word you did not say.
I think what you did is disgusting, but now the table is set,
I squeeze your story like a sponge, removing the water that made it wet.
My own prejudice of you remains locked away in my own mind,
Make no mistake, I know everything that happened and about your kind.
There is a system in place of which I swore and oath,
There are rules that I must follow, rules known to us both.
Shut your mouth and listen, I know exactly what you did,
An adult like you should never take advantage of anyone, elder or kid.
In my job I have seen horrible pictures, many times forced to watch a horrific tape,
Your lies have caught up with you, now there is no escape.
Don’t try to interrupt me, it will do you no good,
Look me in the eyes, these words need to be understood.
I will do everything allowed to make sure you never hurt another,
The time for truth or denial is upon you, the choice is one or the other.
Telling you I know what happened, your head will hang down,
That smirk you wore so proudly, now quickly becomes a frown.
You will start to feel numb, because you know your future is clear,
The confidence you had at the beginning, leaves you in a hot tear.
Confessing to every horrible act committed, almost in disbelief,
You gasp for air as you inhale, exhaling the truth with a sigh of relief.
I don’t know if there is good left inside you, for me there is no grudge,
Guilt consumed your thoughts, save your apology for the victims, child, elder, and the judge
The acts committed are heinous, yet so simple to define,
The path you walk now is dark, but mine will always be a thin blue line.
This is my second poem in my LEOETRY series. LEOETRY stands for Law Enforcement Poetry. It may not be your thing, but for me, I like to tell stories through this method for awareness and education. I will not include anything dealing with training, tactics, or other methods used by Law Enforcement.
The Interview is a poem that tells a vague story about the interview of a suspect. There are many things that go into an interview, but much like a keen-eyed parent confronting a child, the words that are not spoken often tell the truth. The body resists stress and untruthfulness.
I have had the opportunity to conduct several interviews of suspects, victims, and witnesses. Some cases unspeakable, others simple property crimes. The fact is, each interview is as different.
Thank you all for your service, and please stay safe. Please enjoy “The Interview”.
Out the Door
The dispatch phone rang when you called for help today,
You needed us there, but didn’t have much to say.
You called because you knew it was time,
The journey up a difficult ladder you have started to climb.
You had enough, and called for the help of a stranger,
To protect yourself from anymore danger.
We have never met, but many times I have seen the same pain,
Your tears run down that blackened eye like tiny drops of rain.
You have tried to leave before, but were promised it would never happen again,
Praying to God that it would be true, with a sincere amen.
I have a lot of questions that will be hard for you to answer,
About the hell you have been living, growing like cancer.
I received this call from others so many times before,
So many like you praying to walk out that door.
I am listening to every single word that you say,
Hoping that this will be your liberating day.
I want you to know that what happened fills me with rage,
That I can not show, keeping it in my cage.
Please understand there is much more I wish I could do,
I will not say this, because it will not help you.
I promise I will place my piece perfectly in this chain,
I wish, but cannot, take away your pain.
Be strong, be wise, and leave, you have committed no sin,
The room becomes silent, I could hear the drop of a pin.
I could see that your lifetime was running through your head,
Taking in our words, and thinking of what had been said.
Thank you for listening, can I give you a ride,
That is when I saw something in you stir inside.
Your eyes meet mine, as you pick your bag from the floor,
Turning with a smile, as you finally walked out the door.
As a former patrol officer, domestic violence was all too common. The victims extended to children. Every now and then there was a victory in that darkness. I am not an expert on this topic, and my only wish is that I had a magic wand to erase these terrible situations, but I do not, but I have a keyboard and a blog.
This is what drove this poem. Thank you for taking a look.
Hot brown days, counting each as they go by,
Staring into a dry nothing, remembering times gone by.
Lost in a million thoughts, like vagabonds through my head they roam,
One-step forward, is another step towards home.
I cannot explain what happened, or how it got inside,
Pushed deep in my soul, but it came out no matter how hard I tried.
Time just could not erase the things I have seen,
Hiding from everything became such a routine.
I now walk among you, but will not know my name,
Nothing happens on my watch, if so; I am the one to blame.
Watching waistbands and hands, vigilance ever so high,
Measuring every risk, willing to sacrifice, or even die.
My memories are postcards scattered by a fan in my brain,
Pictures of happiness, and sorrow, others bring pain.
Images flash by, some more than others,
Each as important as the next, often of my sisters and brothers.
A carousel of memories that have no absolute order,
Fracturing my sense of peace like an exploding mortar.
My solid ground disappeared; I had nowhere left to stand,
From the light, there became darkness in the hot desert sand.
I needed a guide, hero, someone to show me the way,
God only knows the hell she would have to pay.
She became a foundation, my clarity, my life,
I am here today because of forgiveness, and the patience of my wife.
She grabbed my hand when I started sink,
Counted my scars, and filled them with ink.
Standing tall for family, nephews and nieces,
One at a time, picking up my life’s shattered pieces.
I know now that before the day I die,
Into the broken window frame of my life, a thousand shards of glass will fly.
I wrote this poem not to long ago. It will be ready publicly at a college for a local event. Please feel free to give it a read. Thanks for taking a look!