#Poetry “Garden of Trust”

Garden of Trust

 

In this vast world filled with humans, seek those that one can trust,

The inside is true and what matters,

The outside insignificant, beautiful or covered with rust.

 

To see a person for who they are takes not your eyes,

Listening with one’s ears,

Sorting out the truth and the lies.

 

Eyes locked in place, speech genuine and profound,

These are the words to believe,

Straying from truth, when the conversation turns to the ground.

 

Seeking similar souls and building a safe place,

These seeds of a beautiful garden grow,

The weeds pulled and are displaced.

 

 As the flowers grow, harmful intentions sound off like a symphony of 1000 horns,

No matter how much work or beautiful this garden of roses,

there will always twice as many thorns.

DTH ©2018

Front Man

FRONT MAN

 

A family, church, perhaps battalion with a battle plan,

History has proven success through a constant,

the strong leading Front Man.

 

A squad patrolling in the jungle or the sand,

The sergeant on the street,

Or the lead singer of a band.

 

This person has no gender, their color does not matter,

A soft tongue yet careful ear,

Measuring what is heard through the jeers and the chatter.

 

Standing in the front, yet among those they appear to lead,

Hard, compassionate, yet fair,

Accounting for all, ensuring every need.

 

Defining those around them, speaking for the mass,

The best of what is around,

Polished like fine silver, transparent as glass.

 

The Front Man must know that they simply represent,

all that surround them,

No matter the scratches on the surface, a tear or dent.

 

Walking softly yet hidden beneath, a reluctant hammer,

Good, bad, or indifferent,

A buffer from hell given, recipients of inadvertent glamour.

 

How did they get there, are they volunteers?

Chosen by fate, life, or other means,

Suffering the boos and the relishing the cheers.

 

Be it a soldier, cop, or nurse, sometimes even a music fan,

 Willingly or not are defined,

by the words and actions of the person they call their Front Man.

 ©

“The Letter”

The Letter

Today I met you for the very first time,

Many questions need answers,

Seeing you are the victim of your own crime.

 

We are about the same age, your home similar to mine,

Pictures and favorite things,

 you are not a hard person to define.

 

On the table is camera with an impressive lens,

A camera similar to mine,

Who knows, maybe we could have been friends.

 

 The puzzle piece of your life summed up in a letter left on the floor,

Together our time will be short,

 Absorbing your written thoughts, as I slowly close the door.

 

I am not here to judge you and can only assume,

Your thoughts consumed your soul,

your world, now this dark room.

 

Your life on paper, like a script from a show,

Every pain, hardship and sorrow,

Left to be found by me, someone you didn’t even know.

 

To this earth, this life, you are no longer bound,

Placing a small part of your burden on me,

This scene of sadness, in a letter left to be found.

 

You answer the question why and the how has been done,

The haunting torment ends,

for those who cared, it has only just begun.

 

Understand when I read this, there is no way for me to feel what you did,

A spirit gone and wasted ,

For me like before, these images hidden, secured with a tight lid.

 

I was summoned here today certainly not by my choice,

Putting your story in a stranger’s hands,

Trusting that I will now be your voice.

 

I don’t know your whole life or why you chose this day,

but who cared for you are now my concern,

And I will not let them see you this way.

 

If you can hear me, know I think you made a mistake,

Your tragedy now mine too,  

The details with be softened, simply for your family’s sake.

 

What is going to happen now isn’t what you think,

The pictures and your story will be re-written,

Like others before and after, the effect will not grow, but shrink.

 

It is better me do this rather than someone who you knew,

A permanent solution to a temporary problem,

Their hearts broken, my next call waits with something new.

 

You may think I don’t care, but you committed your own crime,

There have been many before you,

Understand that this certainly is not my first time.

 

Quietly I speak hoping my words you can hear,

Many have traveled the same path,

Some who do my job, their memories met with my tear.

 

Make no mistake, with me this day will remain,

But your face and story will be placed with the others,

another link in an unfortunate chain.

 

In one quick action this life came to a tragic stop,

You took your own life today,

This life, this story, now retold by this stranger, this cop.

©


Suicide and suicide prevention have such profound effects on those around each tragedy.  I have unfortunately had to deal with an unusual number of suicides as a police officer.  As my career progressed, these suicides really hit home when my co-workers, my friends, decided that this was also their escape.  The true answers and circumstances rarely, if ever, are brought to light. 

I recently red an article regarding police officers that have considered either harming themselves or taking their own lives.  This is a tough world.  This article is eye opening.  No longer should we be turning a blind eye to the epidemic of first responders and soldiers regarding the trauma that they face throughout their career. Bravado and toughness come with acceptance and help.  Please get help.  Please speak with your family and friends.  

Also take a look at the article link below.  Thank you for reading this difficult poem.

https://www.nbcnewyork.com/news/local/I-Team-Nearly-1-in-5-Cops-Has-Considered-Suicide-Amid-Stigma-Around-Mental-Health-Issues-500928011.html?fbclid=IwAR1vugiFPxNXFJn406RAnBfgOjubZ5QktrmFhYvTK7f_UJY6vf66O9OJSeY

Pray for Our Country

Pray for Our Country

Pray for our beautiful country,

It is what we all have together,

One nation united under God.

©


Whether you believe or not, what does it hurt? Our country, our name is supposed to unite all.  Do we always get along? No.  Do we always agree? No.  Will we ever get along and agree?  No.  What we can do is disagree, respectfully, and still be one nation.  It makes us stronger and better every day. 

If you pray, pray for this country as a whole.  If you don’t pray, see the previous sentence.  If you choose not to, understand your choice is accepted because of the very country of which you live. 

The freedom to respectfully express oneself and opinions is something of which we have, and continue to, pay a dear price.  Be responsible with these freedoms.  Be respectful to your fellow countrymen and countrywomen. 

Thank you to my beautiful wife for taking a picture of these less than perfect hands.

Wolf’s Call


Wolf’s Call    

The wolf howls at night,

and in sunrise of the early morning,

the pack hungers no more.

                                                                                                                                                               ©
Photo credit goes to my very talented brother-in-law, Jeff Lekatz. Thanks Rock Star!

Haiku “Abandoned”

Abandoned

 In the coldest of winter,

                The song of the bird is silenced,

                                       yet the nest remains waiting.                       

                                                                                                             ©


Haiku poems are powerful, so little word, so much meaning.  Traditionally dealing with nature, three lines, five words, then seven, then five more. Challenging but really but right to the point.  Just the way I like it!

I took this photo in Arizona while visiting my parents. This little fella was high in an entry way.  I could stretch my arms no further, but I think it turned out just fine.

“Jedidiah”

Jedidiah

Jedidiah, Solomon the King, known for his song,

Wisdom and wealth excelled by God,

Before him are his people of which he judges right and wrong.

 

Kindness of word often met with evil response,

Glaring injustice before you,

Righteousness is the armor in this confusing nuance.

 

What else can I do, what does it exactly take?

Move forward true to the word,

Powerful truth etched in minds like stone tablets, conclusions they will not make.

 

This corrupt game is cancer, lingering like a ship off the shore,

What was once now is destroyed,

I choose to feed it no more.

 

The world spins one direction bringing light each day,

For others it spins out of control,

And in darkness is where they stay.

 

I choose to travel the high road, wash my hands of the past,

Learning from each new commitment,

Forging my iron with those that last.

 

Gray lines to some are in the middle, I see them closer to black,

I stay on the white line,

Once crossed over, there is no turning back.

 

It takes many coats to cover dark writing on a wall,

But dark writing appears easily,

In the end, was it worth it all?

 

I say no, to graffiti a pure and subtle place,

Is to slip from the gray line,

And be filled with shame and disgrace.

 

Will they admit it, to no one but themselves?

Ego, and hate ruling their lives,

Each pain stored on their mind’s shelves.

 

I have no answer why injustice sometimes prevails,

Impatience of heart be calmed,

The story hardly over, not knowing what it entails.

 

Questioning why and predicting the plot,

Our own ignorance abounds,

Patience provides peace, and answers to questions sought.

 

Value is in a family that becomes much closer,

The reward is the song like Solomon’s,

Rich with peace and love, and God is the composer.

 

Do you split the baby or give it whole to the liar?

The corruption starves with no food,

You have won your family,  traveling the road that is higher.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I See No Color”

I See No Color

I see no color, in a sister or a brother,

But I am red, bravery and valour,  the color of blood that was shed.

 

I see no color, in a father or a mother,

But I am white, pure yet innocent, as we stand colorless for what is right.

 

I see no color, in a soldier or any other,

But I am blue, vigilant seeking justice, high in the air watching over you.

 

When I pass by, stand, you live free only because heroes had to die,

I see no color, you do, in life and one another.

 

My color you see, together, were made by sacrifices taken to be free,

Stand for me because I am you, your flag, red, white, and blue.

 

What does it take?  To me, the hypocrisy of freedom is when people do not realize that the same reason they have the “right” to do this and that derives from the price that was paid.  Sure you have rights, but do you have respect for where those rights actually came from?  There is a time, place, and way to exercise those rights. We can get the most out of everything our freedom has to offer if we are responsible.  

Freedom, hell no it isn’t free, it is an investment that cost, and continues to cost.  Understand what the cost of that freedom was and still is, and you will understand that to exercise the return from that investment came at a dear price. 

I love this country.  I don’t always agree with decisions that are made, and like this post, I am able to make it known.  Agree or disagree, that is your freedom.  We can still have a beer at the end of the day. 

Thank you Veterans for your service!

Thanks for taking a look. 

“Goodbye Dark Stranger”

Goodbye Dark Stranger

 

You lied to me today, and said this would never happen again,

My heart was pounding for little reason,  filled with adrenaline.

 

You promised that there was a way to take control of these things,

I don’t believe you know what you are doing, and each time it stings.

 

You lied to me today to make me believe things were better,

The ideas are mere words, unraveling like threads of a sweater.

 

You say next time will be different, I can walk away without anger,

It has never happened, and who appears is a dark stranger.

 

He trusts no one, never resting and has no peace,

Willing to do whatever is needed, the chaos he causes does not cease.

 

The damage he has done is like a hole in a battleship’s hull,

It is still a ship but sinks, because the water has made it full.

 

You lied to me today because surely you believe,

You actually have an answer and think that I cannot leave.

 

Or was it because you thought I wouldn’t notice that nothing would change,

Comfortable torment fills this life, decisions made however strange.

 

This time I don’t  forgive you as I have done many times before,

You will do it again, the cut is to deep, I will not take it anymore.

 

I tell you the truth today, this dark stranger, it’s time for him to go,

Silence your lips and listen, these things that you will have to know.

 

You have been here my whole life, even in my youth,

But I have learned that to lie, you must first know the truth.

 

No longer do you get to make all of life’s decisions,

The past is script that is forever, but now I am making some revisions.

 

Words before they are spoken, will be made with careful thought,

Better ways of living will be learned from the bad lessons you have taught.

 

I tell you the truth today because things will be done now the way they should,

Repairing the pieces that you broke, broken pieces you never would.

 

With nothing left to say, you are no longer welcome here,

Smiling I switched off the light, and turned away from the mirror.

Poetry “To Myself a Lesson”

                                                               To Myself a Lesson

Closing my eyes, I left my body, only for a little while,

 an escape from reality, allowing for temporary denial.

As I walked a path, images of my life were left and right,

hearing every word ever spoken, every picture in my sight.

Like a theater with movies playing at the same time,

 watching each tear, each laugh, each mountain I had to climb.

Over here I am a child outside playing ball,

staying until dark, coming home to my mother’s call.

I looked to the left and watched a small moment of my life,

 it was my wedding day, so happy, and such a beautiful wife.

Ahead was my family on Thanksgiving Day,

heads bowed down, as they all began to pray.

Their prayer was for peace and health, thanking God that we are free,

  before the last amen, they said a prayer for me.

My family was together, but I wasn’t there,

 consuming sadness set in , it didn’t seem fair.

On the right there was a man lying face down in the snow,

I stood above him, his life gone, who he was, I did not know.

Behind me I saw myself yelling at those I cared,

They all looked confused, hurt, and even scared.

I tried to close my eyes, to watch this tore me apart,

 but I had no eyes, my words caused pain and broke more than one heart.

Turning my head, I saw a man standing threatening to do harm with a knife,

and me with my gun, prepared to end his life.

Next to this was a man on some tracks waiting to die,

wanting a train to kill him as it quickly rumbled by.

Above was a young girl pinned in a car, not moving or speaking,

broken glass and metal scattered over the road made of tar.

To the side was a young soldier standing guard at his post,

calling for help, that scared me the most.

“I am coming to get you, it will be alright”,

my vision blurred with tears as the image faded from my sight.

I tried but couldn’t move, so I looked down,

I had no legs or body, and there was no ground.

What am I, where am I, get me out of the place,

that is when I turned one more time and saw my own face.

It was me I was looking at, standing there with a smile,

a look of peace and calmness, something I had not seen in a while.

I almost didn’t recognize myself, appearing as I once was,

the chaos of each image muted, becoming quiet as an insects buzz.

The other me made a motion to turn around,

this time I was able to move, below me solid ground.

We walked together for some time, not saying a word,

stopping by a door, then my own voice I heard.

“Hey there buddy, I am really you but you haven’t seen me in a while”,

 I stared directly at me, my face in denial.

“You look at me like a stranger, but I have always been here,

 the hardest times you faced, I was standing near.”

“Your anger tried to push me away, that is no way to live,

but it was me whispering in your ear, move on and forgive.”

“Life has created who you are now, but you were first me,

today you choose your path and the person you deserve to be.”

I stood amazed, and didn’t say a thing,

wishing I was me again, able to accept what life can bring.

Finally, able to speak I asked, “ Hey, am I dead?”

The other me laughed, “No, this is a dream, but not like your others, you are safe in bed.”

“How am I supposed to forgive these things that matter?” hoping he knew,

My other me said, “Forgiveness isn’t for them, it’s really just for you.”

“Let go of the anger and hate that keeps you awake every night,

your war is over and now it’s about us, and no longer our fight.”

With a laugh he said, “let’s go” and knocked on the door,

it opened and inside was my new life, everything that mattered and more.

“Are you coming with, or are you going to stay where you’re at?”

 In front of me was a table, my family, and my chair where I always sat.

Before I could answer, my old self was nowhere to be found,

 I searched all over, my eyes darting around.

My old me was not gone, realizing I was always him,

 the light was bright ahead of me, behind the images became dim.

From the air my own voice called, “There is something you must know,

once you walk through that door, these memories will stay and never go.”

“They will be with you for as long as you live,

but I promise you will get out of your new life, exactly what you give.”

I smiled for the first time in what seemed like in years,

My family greeting me with hugs and cheers.

My voice called and said, “Hey, there is one last thing”,

forever in my ears, these words like a soft song will sing.

“It will better from here, but sometimes your mind will still roam,

your peace and happiness are found, now that you have finally made it home.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________

I don’t really know what to say about this, so I won’t. I will let it speak for itself. You may draw your own conclusions. 

If you think you know someone, or do know someone that can benefit from it, share it.  That is why all of these are here.  I feel I can reach more people on a platform like this before it is too late.

I recently had the honor to read some of my work at a Healing Warriors program that emphasized how healing, through art, whatever the form may, is so helpful.  I am still speechless at the stories, writings, and artwork created by these amazing veterans. Thank you all so much for your service that allows people like me to write what I do. 

I write today because I enjoy it.  Is it any good?   I have no idea, that is not why I write.  I write because these words, much like a painting from an artists brush, come from my mind and end up as typed characters on my computer screen. 

Thank you all for reading this very long poem.  I still have a tough time reading it out loud.

                                                                              DTH 

 

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