The dust is finally settling

No pun intended. After a long 15 months I am finally back home with my family. The loom of rockets and mortars has ceased and the refreshing inhale and exhale of clean air is back! As the plane was landing I could see green trees for miles, oh what a feeling! No more sand storms causing thick sandy nose hairs, stinking porta-johns with Chuck Norris quotes on the walls, taking showers with shower shoes, shaving and brushing my teeth with bottled water, and having my daughter stare at me through the webcam asking me to touch her hand. I have been home for almost two weeks and the integration with my wife and daughter has been amazing. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

So many things to talk about in such little space and more importantly time. I'm so blessed to be back and I want to send the warmest gratitude to everyone that has supported us throughout our tour. As the dust continues to settle I think I will find my way back into my leather bound book, re-prioritize my life and learn to live in the free world again, man I feel like I just got out "the joint". Look to hear from me soon.

P.S. I have yet to express my thoughts on the new commander and chief.

Love to you,

AD

Trouble Sleeping

Awake like a crazy man. No sleeping for me. Eyes wide shut, something numbing taking place in me. Sleeping seems to be obviated, for there is no peace in it for me. Trying to sleep is like watching my labrador retriever chase a jack rabbit through the German countryside; nearly impossible. I’m seeking for peace at the moment. Just need to get home I guess. This blog, started as something poetic and quickly turning into something journal like. I appreciate the readers who actually give intelligent feedback. It’s as if you read me and feel me exactly where I am. Maybe you picture me now sitting at my desk in this thing we call a “CHU”, more like a tin connex morhped into sleeping quarters. Maybe you can hear the blackhawks land through out the night, and the random “kabooms”. Punching away at keys typing for no reason, just to be typing, maybe it’s therapy. I’m tempted to go to the gym and beat on the 80lb punching bag to remedy my sleep, monotony, and blender of a day. But that is much like the keyboard I’m typing on; it even lacks the satiated relief that I am looking for. Maybe the tunes I’m listening to aren’t helping either: Herbie Hancock The Joni Letters. That’s it for tonight. I’m going to make another attempt at the sleeping thing.

Receiving a coin for achievement from General Patreus

Trying to get back

I usually don't write titles until the writing is complete. However, "Trying to get back" just comes natural. Right about now it has multiple meanings for me. 13 months we've been in this country second tour for me. 2 more months to go and yeah, it's rough! Expression has escaped me like watching water evaporate in the 120 degree Northern Iraq baking sun. Gone! But I'm trying to get that back too. The expression that is.


As a young company grade officer and troop commander there is tremendous responsibility getting 114 troops back to their families safely. But it is rewarding. We're at a strange place; soldiers can feel that the mission is almost complete but they know we can't quit and that we're not finish until we affectively transition this mission to our replacements. We've done everything together, sweat together, live together, work together, drive one another absolutely nuts, supported one another, and we're at the end.



The challenges do not cease as spouses are having babies and I have to tell a soldier that he can't go home to see the birth, grandparents passing, mothers and fathers illnesses, family issues, and I have to be the guy to give the brotherly love, tell them I understand but the policy says that I can't let you go. That only adds to their frustration and strain. And mine as well. But my soldiers are professionals and they continue to push forward.



My daughter just started her first day of school, I was fortunate to hear her little funny voice on the other end of the phone with excitement; you would have thought she was going to college! We are looking forward to getting back. And trying to integrate ourselves back into the lives that we knew prior to deploying.



On a positive note, things seems to be getting safer in our area of operations and the Iraqi's seem to be taking charge of the security in our area. This is great improvement from what it was like when we first got here. The attacks on our Forward Operating Base have dwindled. Usually this time of year at the brink of Ramadan, it's like a 4th July gone badly with mortars and rockets instead of fireworks.



I'll be working on getting back to writing and digging deep to stir up my creative side. Until next time, don't forget about the soldiers we think of you daily.

Kaleidoscope

We have collided in the scope of things.

An array of colors and faces reflected in shards of broken glass

Picking up the pieces –

American pop culture tilts on axis,

Guerilla warfare in urban desert street jungles –

American boots march through the Province like bounty hunters.

Simultaneously bringing the peace and chasing out the bad guys.

Alqueda is swinging from light poles

Like monkeys?

Celebrating Iraqi-American democracy.

Stars, stripes, and illumination rockets blast KA-BOOM!

American show of force –

Palm groves shaken.

Breath taking –

As we ask ourselves is that incoming or outgoing?

Rockets that is.

You can tell by the whistle on the front side or the backside.

My country tis of thee

Sweet land of liberty!

We are colliding in the scope of democracy.

When the light shines at the end of the tunnel;

I see their free faces reminiscent of ours.

American-

An array of colors in shards of broken glass.

Iraq-

Looking through the kaleidoscope of hope.

Hoping that we can deliver the peace.

Life Goes On

I was just thinking today how I haven't written any poetry in a while. But like I always say, "poetry is in the living". I recently spoke with my mentor and friend Bill Gray (old H.S. psychologist and life long friend) and I hear the life going on in the background as the cars were screaming by and I was sitting in the AT&T deployed Soldiers phone trailer listening to booms of out going artillery as they vibrate the trailer. And it just made me think...life goes on, it's going on, we are living in what will soon be history. Soon I will be home from Baqubah and it will all be a drop in the bucket. I picture him riding down Michigan Avenue passed boarded building's and closed factories and people that are just trying to get by. While he simultaneously describes what he is seeing. On my end, a war goes on and Soldier's are rolling up insurgents that plan to attack coalition forces. We try to make things better as much as our Western minds can comprehend. Children wave at our convoy's as we ride past and we wave back as we look nothing short of intimidating.

We are living in historic times as Barrack Obama was just chosen as the democratic candidate for president. We are on the brink of a new era of American race relations. I don't think we'll understand the impact of what Barrack Obama represents, only time can tell. The onset is quiet we are changing, the cocoon is warm. The war still goes on and our country is taking shape by our current foreign policy programs, war, a sliding economy, and heightening gas prices. As this life goes on. I've got a responsibility to be better, to work harder and attempt to influence the world around me the best I know how. My desires are seeming to big for my skin, my love out stretches my capability and I am a participant of this life that is just going on.

Saturday Night Deployed

So we have recently made what deployed Soldiers call a successful “jump” where we moved from one Forward Operating Base to another. As mentioned previously, from Baghdad to Baquba. The sun is blistering, the sand saturates our nostrils, the monotony is agonizing some how we press forward to be better daily.

When you pass a Soldier in the morning you may hear a myriad of quotes after exchanging a salute; Me: “How’s it going today Soldier”, a typical response is Soldier:” living the dream Sir!” A dream it is, dream is what we do, having been away from families and missing, Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthday’s, anniversaries, family members funerals, the world is changing that our counterparts live in but ours seems to remain the same. You almost forget what life is like on the outside of our secure base. We often talk about what we have planned for the future and where we want to go next. Being deployed to Iraq is an experience; it’s a lifestyle, a place where you taste the emotions of a human experience that is uncommon to most. It’s the roller coaster ride of the living.

Tonight my First Sergeant and I decided to take a load off and try to break up the routine. We partook in some unhealthy libations, pounding down “Rip-Its (energy drinks)” and smoke away on some tasty cigars. The responsibility of our Troop rest solely on the shoulders of the First Sergeant and I. We enjoy what we do. He is passionate and I am the same, that’s probably the biggest characteristic we have in common is care for Soldiers and there well being. First Sergeant Girard is on his way to retirement and has served his country for nearly 20 years having been in our Regiment for close to 8 of them. This life has taken a toll on him but I admire his ability to still to give his best to the Soldiers of Lightning Troop. Some Soldiers do it for passion, when you loose the passion there is still obligation, and that is what separates us from the rest of the world…Green suitor obligation; no matter what the conditions we are still Soldiers trying to enjoy a Saturday night in Iraq.

Tedious Days at War

It's been 10 months and counting, 5 more months to go and we are looking forward to the long awaited welcome home ceremony. Within the month we have moved from Baghdad to what is known as the "bread basket of Iraq" the Diyala Province in Baquouba. I am a mere spectator amongst the many boots, uniforms, civilian employees and those that represent the sixth year of the Iraq war. I feel like an outsider, like an embedded reporter. Only my voice is quietly summonsed, if there is such a thing. Details of missions are muffled and camouflaged by the Uniformed Code of Military Justice.

As I sit on the edge of my Humvee with my 50 cal. firmly seated right before a convoy brief. I am the axis between Soldiers that are disenchanted with war and anxiety as fear of dying haunts most all of us and the other who is "patriot" through and through with absolutely no fear or at least persist that it is void. They converse of the possible outcomes of this former Saddamist burdened country, to a place where there are Iraqi Police or Iraqi Army check points nearly every quarter mile. Martial law is in full effect and poverties iron fist is laden on the heads of our brothers of the sand. Senator McCain said it himself "100 years"; being here and living amongst the reality I am convinced that there is no longer a military solution. This place is going to take ages of a joint effort to overcome the burden. With every rotation a movement from one place in the country to another you would think that Soldiers would give up. However, we work like we are running out of time (no pun intended); we work with a sense of urgency. Fatigue, rest on the back burner and success in whatever form it comes in will be the mantra of the Soldier.

Clarity and Happiness

Finally elusiveness gives way to clarity

with a crystal like clearness.

I am sitting between birth and death.

The only thing that is permanent is change itself.

There is nothing that we can rely upon for our happiness,

Only the center of our souls.

Another Birthday Spent in Iraq

This is the second birthday I have spent here in Iraq. The last one was 07 May 2005. This time I spent the day gearing up to head on another mission. We left Baghdad after being there for 9 months to head to some other place deep in the Northern part of the country. We sat at the helipad until almost 0200hrs in the morning. My Soldier's sang Happy Birthday and we celebrated with near beer (as usual- nonalcoholic beer) and cigars. The stars were bright and I gave thanks for another day. I do not enjoy being here but, I enjoy the presence of Soldier's. The comradeship is unprecedented. As much hell as war can be Soldier's make it the best experience possible.

When the Chinook arrived we geared up with approximately 150 pounds of gear each and boarded the bird to prepare for a new chapter in our 15 month long mission. After getting settled in a bit in our new location we established communications. Of course I am always the first with internet because that's my job! I was chatting with my wife on instant messenger and heard the familiar whistling of 2 rockets. In which I later found out were 107mm rockets. I threw my laptop and low crawled on the floor trying to get to safety. After a total of 4 rockets. People were running all over the place trying to get accountability of one another and see who had been hit. Come to find out the first rocket landed approximately 50 feet from where I was sitting. It's a gamble, you never know whats next. You say those silent prayers and hope for the best. You try your best to take care of one another but the first thing you learn is that life goes fast, especially in war.

Continue to pray for our safety.

Vaction Pictures!

Please view the following link for pictures of my Rest and Relaxation holiday:

http://picasaweb.google.com/daniele.massey/RandR2008?authkey=8BfMqdWCF1k

Man I wish I were back at home! It was fun.

So many random thoughts....

Maybe it's this ridiculously hot sun that is frying my brain cells and causing them to mush together. When I am afforded the opportunity I am glued to the news. Watching the nation change from my foxhole, constantly trying to make sense of my world and the world my daughter will grow up in. Everyone has their own window to look from. My window happens to be in the middle of a war.

I feel like an outsider from my own country, like I am on the outside looking in. Maybe, that is exactly what I am doing. I am in Iraq. I have been out of the States for about two years. I am only left to look at our rapidly changing country as if I am a foreigner. What I see: Maybe one of the best opportunities for our country since I have been alive to address race in a America for what it is. Its certainly not black and white, its complex, its how we treat one another, its the stereotypes that media perpetuates, its the great divide, that subject that so many walk on egg shells about. The democratic candidate race is bringing about this opportunity. I hope that we don't screw it up. I have traveled to a myriad of places throughout Europe, the Middle East and yes we are still the Greatest Nation. But the greatest nation has the greatest responsibility; domestically as well as the influence that we evoke throughout the world through our different mediums.

I love my country, but question it, I question it, but I'll fight for its safety. If you value something enough you'll question every aspect of it. Its what I know. We have some of the greatest systems in place while maintaining some of the worst. I understand that there will not be a utopia of the sorts. I do believe we have the greatest resources and a great people to have the most positive impact on the rest of the world. More importantly, I hope that we can move towards a more united America. An America that all of our ancestors dreamed of or at least some of them. Just a few random thoughts.

Sad Tomorrows for Present Day Choices

Are we trading sad tomorrows
in lieu of making hard present day choices?
Listen to the ancestors voices.
Lessons learned in histories pages.
We are still the most powerful and influential nation.
US Army Soldier now stares in the eyes of terrorist faces.
There is nothing new under this Mesopotamian sun.
The same smoke from different guns
while the same blood spills.
Only now take a seat and watch the burning oil fills.
Are we trading sad tomorrows in lieu of making hard present day choices?
Listen to the ancestors voices.
Lessons learned in histories pages.
We are still the Greatest Nation

Responsibility.

Quite an adventure it has been since our last encounter. In a matter of a week I went from sleeping in Baghdad and skipping rocks in the Tigris River and trying to avoid the surge of new mortar attacks to hanging out in Kuwait for 36 hours. Finally, arriving to my home in Vilseck Germany via a flight and a train ride through the beautiful and colorful country side of Bavaria to the exciting and warm embrace of my family. And it hit me, no more game face, its been a while; the intensity has been great...now what? We hung out for a bit at our home. I tried to quickly get acclimated to the change in environment. No helicopters, no mortars, no generators, no midnight knock at the door because of Red cross messages. However, sleeping in my own bed and a short opportunity to be me again.

We took a long drive from Germany through the Swiss Alps, mountains covered with snow, running streams of water and green everywhere! Quite the change from the desolate dry sands of the desert. Stayed the night in Lugano, Switzerland, the next day had lunch in Milan, Italy then continued our drive to Genoa, Italy. Where we started a bit of an adventure by taking a cruise through the W. Mediterranean. Starting in Italy with Naples and Sicily followed by Spain, Mallorca and Barcelona, to Tunisia, N. Africa, and lastly Marsille France. There was something peaceful about everyday, every breath was like a Buddhist Nirvana; blissful. The many different languages, the people, the drastic change of scenery in such a short period of time was just remarkable.

This life is rich. And I am learning everyday. Now I am back in Kuwait awaiting a flight to get back into "the fight".

Pictures to follow.

Antebellum and the Abolition

Some days are like standing at the

liminal abolition of the journey.

Fork in the road –

The end –

It’s like having the death angel

crouch down in a bunker with you.

He smiles –

"I’ll be back".

It’s a place where silence is shattered

with the unexpected

like shrapnel piercing through calm waters.

As do metal pierces the flesh.

Blood –

Laughter turned into terrible fear.

Followed by a calmness.

Flashing lights of the days prior.

Self reflection.

Acceptance.

Every day that I wake up

is filled with breathing in that moment,

living life in its fullness.

Ripple effect-

No more silence.

We have only once chance to get it right.

No do over’s –

One chance.

At antebellum did I feel like this?

Did I ever feel so close to the liminal abolition of the journey?

The end –

* Antebellum (Latin for “the period before the war”)

Checking In

Finally, a moment to breath as I am counting the days (12 to be exact) from my much needed Rest and Relaxation time. I have not had much time to write very much poetry lately as life here has been pretty hectic.

I have 18 days to love up my family, take a cruise through the Western Mediterranean, pick up where I left off with trying to teach Anaya how to ride her bike, take her to get a new baby turtle, walk our chocolate lab with my wife, take a few long drives and catch up like old friends, work on my jeep and wear my own clothes. It doesn't stop there! I get to sleep in my own bed, eat hard boiled eggs, drink "real" milk, and have the furthest thing from "near" beer!!

In 7.5 months and this being my second tour I have missed a lot of holidays. I enjoyed Christmas over the web cam and have become temporarily satisfied with hearing the voice of my wife and daughter over the phone. Sometimes I just cut it all off, so detached from everything, I forget what its like to be at home...but finally I'm on my way. I'll be in touch!

Poetry Is What I Live

Commanding Troops in all of its chaos....making decisions....sending Soldier's on missions....taking care of them....no sleep...busy...running...working out...trying to read...trying to breath....be patient.....take it in....be spiritual.....love my family from a distance...smile when I hear my daughters voice.....startled by rockets.....subtle tension.....feeling adrenaline....I am alive.....I am being me............and praying for more days to do so and live what is in this moment. Caught up in the here and now...the colors blend....train moving fast...living going on.....lives being lost...staring out of the window...hind sight is 20/20....

Out of the loop but still hanging on

To all of my readers I appreciate your prayers, your viewing, and interest in poetry. I'm having a few technical difficulties over here (this is war huh?)...but I am still managing to post quite frequently. If you read the 3 poems below they are the most recent poems that I have written. Please understand that my poems do not represent the views of the United States Army. Although, I fight for freedom of speech I am not quite allowed to excercise it as my civilian counterparts are. Life is pretty interesting these days over here in the desert. I am often vague in my talking about my experience but the poetry below speaks for itself. I hope you enjoy it and please stay posted. Much love,

Adrian

Chuck Taylor's and Young Memories

Memories of size 14 boys
mesh high-top Converse Chuck Taylors;
Kicking a big red 14 inch plastic kick ball
straight out of the park!
Thoughts spark!
Like umbrella fireworks on the fourth of July.
Up, up, up into the sky!
As sure as the ball is round
so is the earth.
I’m diving head first from Venus
Head tucked –
Fingers pointed –
Legs together –
into the Adriatic Sea and kiss the
first thing staring at me
starfish –
Algae weaves through my tickled toes.
The mystery is in the childlike part of me.
Like the oceans abyss.
Kids are rich.
Big Kool-Aid smile and wet curly hair,
coco brown skin-
still innocent.
Sticky grape on my t-shirt from the Jelly sandwich.
Sliding into first base –
Always feeling first place.
Grass stains –
What’s pain –?

American Dreaming I, II, and III

I

I miss the bright lights and big city.
American alchemy is calling my name.
Neon lights
like
New York

Land of the brave and free-
I am mentally reaching out like the statue of liberty –
Flame of passionate fire in my torch;
lifted searching and seeking out the gifted part of me.
What does the American Dream mean to me?



II


My mothers blistered
burdened feet
from 29 years of bartending
in the Metro Detroit- Airport.
American dream twinkle in her eye.
Single parent provider,
She’d work all day, everyday
to try to give my brother and I
the best that her wages would allow.
I’m so proud of her hard working American spirit.



III


Obama –
Silent social barriers broken –
burst through leaving remnants of concrete
past –
now made rubble.
No more token?
Negro that is –
American Dreaming with the wind to my back.
Momentum –
Chin up, focus, opportunistic twinkle in my eyes.
Focused –
Momma told me, “Because of your skin you have to be EXTRAordinary”.
No room for just being ordinary, I’ve got to win.
American Dreaming.

A PATRIOTS SEARCH

I search my soul like searching for a lost diamond in a carpet.
I comb back the stripes of this old American Flag
Seeking for the twinkle of my countries stars;
Surely it must exist?
I questioned my patriotism as we so helplessly sat in that concrete bunker on the receiving end of constant One O’ seven millimeter rockets;
and feel their terror rattle the earth around us.
They roar with the same anger as those that release them.
Those that hate who we are and what we represent.
But what is it that we represent?
Buildings rattle and faces are frozen –
I search my soul like searching for a lost diamond in a carpet.
I comb back the stripes of this old American Flag
Red and White, Red and White –
Blue and Stars –
I see these lights in the distance as mangled bodies lay in ambulances
awaiting aid.
Seeking for the twinkle of my countries stars;
Surely it must exist?
Iranian rockets shot from deep in the palm groves of this ancient desert.
When it’s over the sandy sky remains a deep depressing Earl Grey.
Who is our enemy?
Where are we going?
Still questioning and still soldiering –

The War Machine is My Home

I share these thoughts from downrange.
Like the Middle Eastern sun burns.
And it is so, that war will take its toll.
My suppressed rebellion and art are distinct from politics.
Each poetic page written is clothed with Anti-romantic overtones.
Like a “boom” catches your attention so will this lyrical realism.
Caught up in the war machine;
Hands flailing, my eyes bulging, gasping
deeply, like looking for clean air in a sandstorm.
Nearly impossible –
I am searching for the creative part of me.
This is me living life while it is mine to live.
Meanwhile someone else lost there’s today.
So why complain.
I am daily escaping the hands of complacency,
And the dangers of monotony haunt me.

But I am alive
in the war machine.
This is my home.

New Age Warrior

I am a spectator to the ostensible American Warrior.
He is built like the vehicle he engages Muhalla’s in;

A Stryker!

Nineteen years old, with an admirable swagger
a “dip” the size of Texas fulfills his bottom lip.
Fast, quick, and sharp as a bed of nails.
Has no idea of his courage, oblivious to the politics.
“Who the hell is this Obama cat”!
Thinks he’s born to take it to the enemy.
At least his training makes him feel that way.
Sometimes over confident,
but that bumpy mysterious ride in a Stryker
to some unknown place in Baghdad keeps him in check.
Burdened down by his gear,
dressed like a tactical Christmas tree
decorated with ornaments of body armor.
His Wiley X goggles fog from the heart pound,
nervous, and abnormal breathing pattern
in which only a Soldier that’s been on “a mission” can describe.
Some call it adrenaline.
We call it……

Well I don’t know –

This is a new kind of Soldier.
Not your Vietnam War kind of Soldier.
Not your Desert Storm 1991 kind of Soldier.
But the Nintendo-age, Generation-X, first person shooter
video game playing, digital uniform wearing,
terrorist fighting, engaging bad guys in the middle of the night,
New Age ostensible American Warrior.

He is a Dragoon!

Second Calvary Stryker Regiment

"Right Pain Left Brain" By Dr. Larry Juchartz

http://rightbrainleftpain.blogspot.com/

Dr. Juchartz is a phenomenal writer and intellectual. He was my African American Literature professor at Eastern Michigan University. His new blog is worth it's weight in gold. As his subtitle says it all, "shift the ideology and change the world". Dr. Juchartz also edited my work for my book and was one of the first to truly encourage me to write by introducing me to Robbie Dean Press publisher of my poetry book.

POETRY IS

Poetry is the enriched well
where the epicenter of spirit
and soul live and dance
on heavens blue firmament.

Poetry is the home of aesthetics and code;
Hidden like messages in freed slaves hymns.
Poetry is the colorful kaleidoscope of lyrics and realism.

Poetry is my sounding board to
the world around me.

Desert –

War –

Living –

Embracing –

Poetry is the speaker that vibrates
an afferent sound.
Poetry is collectively my truth
and the captured clippings
of minuscule moments.
Two fingers pressed against
my poetic pulse and I see that
I am living, breathing,
heart pumping, thinking,
tasting, and smelling.

Desert –

War –

Living –

Embracing –

What poetry is.

The Impersonal Loss

What do we make of this loss?

Is it easier to a loose a Soldier than a civilian?

Are we numb to this?

Is it just as impersonal as the local news reports?

“4 Soldier’s killed by a deep buried IED today”.

Ask the wife or children of one our KIA’s.

Ask the battle buddy of one of our KIA’s.

Experience the chaos in an operations center,

When that fatal call is made over the radio.

Mouths are dropped.

Headsets are thrown.

Frustration-

Have you ever heard the bugle call?

Felt the tension that resonates in the air like a acoustic conundrum.

Seen a mothers face as she is handed a sharply folded American flag.

Experienced the jerk reaction from the M16’s fired off twenty one times. And watched the tears run from mourning faces and dampen their blouses.

They serve at the tip of the spear.

Where it is sharp and edgy and there is the most fear;

Where the flesh is easily pierced and punctured.

Questioning the innermost parts of their soul; am I ready?

What do we make of this loss?

Is it easier to a loose a Soldier than a civilian?

Are we numb to this?

Is it just as impersonal as the local news reports?

“4 Soldier’s killed by a deep buried IED today”.

NOBLESSE OBLIGE: IT'S A LIFESTYLE

First, I want to express my gratitude to those of you who take the time to read my poetry. I am inspired by everyone of your comments. I have no expectations of you, I am just sharing the journey with anyone who loves life as much as I do. I ran across a word the other day that I just can't get out of my head "noblesse oblige": the obligation of honorable, generous, and responsible behavior associated with high rank or birth.

Maybe its just my opinion. But I think we have a responsibility to give one another our best everyday! Even if it is not just of common nature to give of yourself or by personal ambition so much as noblesse oblige.

I've been a Troop commander for about two months now. I am constantly amazed at how much my personal attitude is influential in the lives of those around. Positive energy is contagious. When I was coming up I remember that saying that "attitude is everything" sounding like the biggest cliche' to me. Cliche and all; it's true. Everyday I am encouraging young Soldiers, single parent soldiers who have left their children behind, people who just got married before they deployed, and several other instances. These are individuals who sacrifice a lot to be here (Iraq) to serve as they have made the commitment for whatever reason. I owe them my best daily. Each day I am working at becoming better, sharper, faster, and stronger. Noblesse Oblige is a lifestyle that I have committed myself to. Noblesse Oblige ought to be a brand...share with someone the meaning of it....let's see how far we can take it.

" A SOLDIER'S POETIC RESPONSE: A SLICE OF HIS LIFE"

http://www.marketingnewauthors.com/a-soldiers-poetic.html

MY EYE’S IN EAST RASHID (BAGHDAD)

MY EYE’S IN EAST RASHID (BAGHDAD)

Oh, East Rashid city with palm trees laden over old sidewalks

and slouched with the presentation of the Iraqi people.

Depressed –

Muhallah’s empty of soul and spirit.

Poverty stricken –

Missing the firm hand of Saddam

as we toss soccer balls,

MRE’s, and bottled water

for their children’s morale.

Visions of red, white, and blue before their eyes;

For whatever its worth is to them.

Sunni and Shiite separated like Bloods and Crips on Crenshaw.

Pigeons are clapped when the American’s arrive.

They flap their wings to tell the neighborhood

That the U.S. is present.

Green Flags

Red Flags

Black Flags

Partition religion and safety;

Christian –

Muslim –

Women covered in their black dresses from head to toe

Their soul windows peek from their cloth cut peep holes

Reading signs that display vacancy.

No ones home –

Save us from ourselves.

Torn between American Flags worn on the right shoulder of American Soldier’s

And Al Queada Forces.

They want their neighborhoods back, but who will protect them from the villain?

They need a Vigilante for the people like V for Vendetta.

City Market open again –

Their malnourished cows graze through an abundance of trash and small patches of grass

In the midst of city street chaos.

Vehicle emissions smother the good air;

mixed with dust and sand.

Oil stained roads.

Their sheep’s are herded aside buses and donkey carts.

Rubble, ashes, and sewage from the great “shock and awe”

Paves the path where children’s bare feet tip toe through

Crushed concrete like egg shell’s as they travel to school.

This place is a tan blur awaiting a clearer picture.

American Soldier’s protect what they can;

Interpreters by their sides to overcome the

language barriers.

They care about their streets –

Invited for Chai and Cigarettes

as a local coalition is formed.

Soldier’s dressed in body armor like tactical Christmas tree’s,

Leaving indentations in already warn couches from the weight of their gear.

When they trust you, they tell you where the deep buried I.E.D’s are located.

We make friends for twelve months then we are replaced by new ones.

These green-suitor’s rotate so the trust is temporary

The rapport must be built again.

Moon Dreams and Galaxies

MOON DREAMS AND GALAXIES

Last night I had moon dreams.

Somewhere between thinking and destiny,

I saw the galaxy inside of me.

In tune with my own soul

I have a multiple star system residing

In dark matter.

I am a walking observable universe;

Gravitationally bound and spiritually lifted.

She is a constellation of beautiful stars

painting the perfect picture.

Visible from most places,

exchanging the stare

Between strange faces.

My galaxy meets yours.

Last night I had moon dreams.

Somewhere between thinking and destiny,

I saw the galaxy inside of me.

My Jubliation

My heart's a' racin'
with a systematic

Jubilation.

I see rainbows
like Stevie Wonder
imagines new
colors.

I am tying
ribbons
in the sky like
loose
ends.

Intimate embrace of Myself,
My skin,
My soul,
and loving Myself simple.

My heart's a' racin'
with a systematic

Jubilation
an
array of colors and
loving Myself
simple.

RANDOM POETIC THOUGHTS

Living in the space between my Ears

Consumed in the world of ear buds and John Coltrane “Lush Life”

But life isn’t so lush or so it is just not at the moment.

My world is my music my internal MP3 player.

THE TIME

Wheels stopped turning.

The battery is dead.

The arms wait to sweep

the numbers again.

The time can’t be told

with the wheels not turning,

the battery being dead,

and the arms not sweeping.

What time is it?

Fact, I know that its six hours past

Eastern Standard Time.

But from where I am standing my watch

stopped telling the time.

S.O.S

Like an only child I called names that did not exist.

I called for help beyond myself.

Democracy with a capital “D”

He is a demagogue using his powerful pulpit

to preach a dogma of democracy and false diplomacy.

American people deluged with illusions of freedom.

Our Forefathers vision is daily becoming decadent

and disabled by this philosophy of religious rhetoric.

Those that disagree are daunted and considered unpatriotic.

But I love my country and what it is “supposed” to stand for;

I believe that there is hope.

I don’t believe like some prophesy that there is a

Rome-like doom in our future

but that we are destined for Democracy with a capital “D”.

In Memory of the King

In memory of one of the greatest heroes and iconic figures in American History; I am reserving this rare moment of passionate expression for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Here in Baghdad at one of the many Army Chapels across theater we (Soldier's) took time out to celebrate the honored legacy of Dr. King Jr. It was one of the most profound experiences I have had while being deployed. It began with a beautiful spiritual "Take My Hand" and I was deeply moved from the very start. We stood for the National Anthem, standing tall and stout with our fingers curled under and our feet at 45 degree angles, I was struck at attention.

Emotion struck me as the chilling, galvanizing, and piercing voice of resound echoed "I have a dream" as thoughts of a catalytic patriotism of red, white, and blue invaded my heart and soul I have realized the dream. Looking down at my chest I see what some refer to as "railroad tracks" the rank of Captain. I realize that someone had a dream that young African American men and women like me will one day serve along side people of all races to represent our country as servicemen and women. I know that much like the Soldiers that have died in Iraq for whatever cause we are here.

Men and women of African descent like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. died so that I may wear the uniform that wear and give and return salutes to men and women that may not have the same skin that I have. It is my prayer that we continue to make progress in our American culture. We have a responsibility to one another; Dr King stated that, "Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness". I often times wonder what it will be like for my little interracial daughter. What life will she endure? I will make it my responsibility as long as I live to serve selflessly and to make every positive contribution to my immediate local American culture possible.

299 more days to go!!!!!!

Everyone of those Two hundred and ninety-ninety days that I am afforded the opportunity to wake up and contribute to life, my family, friends, and other Soldier's is a blessing and a new opportunity. One thing that being deployed with the Infantry has taught me is that life is "real". It is fragile, it is in the minuscule moments that we take for granted, in the relationships we build with one another that we find value and the very richness of life. Just thinking about the reality of life as we know it on the surface has so much value in it that we are able to cease regularly. There is nothing fake about war, one minute you are laughing and joking, shaking hands and the next moment the Soldier with his war face on is gearing up for a mission. What's going to happen between the time the Soldier goes outside the wire and "hopefully" when you see him next? Who knows? Only God, if you are a believer.

I witness brave young men and women everyday, that will do just about anything they are told for "the mission" to include myself. Patriotism isn't about politics, screw politics! Are you still a patriot if you disagree with the politics? I can only answer you with the patriotism that I see, rather these Soldier's do what they do for a reenlistment bonus to feed their families or by a new car, or because they believe they are true warriors, or they want money for college. Either way they show a daily commitment that is unprecedented; that can only be found in the heart of a patriotic Soldier. I am blessed at the opportunity to type on this keyboard, watch the blink of my cursor, as I am understanding daily that life is "real" and to enjoy my minuscule moments.

Recently our unit lost six young men making a total of 15 that will not make it home to be with their loved ones. This is for our six fallen:


The article published on CNN http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/meast/01/09/iraq.soldier.deaths/index.html#cnnSTCText

We Lost Six

A fellow Soldier whispered to me,

“we lost six today”

Six what?

Six Dragoons!

Six Soldiers!

Six brothers!

Six husbands!

Six fathers!

Six sons!

We lost six today.

Young troopers prepared

for their routine missions.

Laugh and joke, connected as can be.

Check one another’s equipment

ask about one another’s families.

Barak Obama,

Hilary Clinton,

John McCain and Huckabee

the primaries are going strong.

Who’s going to lead the nation next?

Politician’s echo their message of change.

Brittany Spears is at it again!

Is there change or continuum with just a new face?

Iran is a threat to this nation, says President Bush!

Are we in a recession or what?

CNN and its breaking news,

Can American’s pay their bills?

This world of war spins on its on axis

Nervous as hell rather they admit or not.

Thousands of miles apart separated by world waters.

Patriot blood spills and limbs explode in all directions.

The young Sergeants family woke up

and prayed for daddy another day.

The Privates girlfriend trying to figure out

what she was going to wear to work for the day.

Half a world away,

we are enablers and those that kick in doors

and pass out soccer balls to Iraqi children.

Stryker vehicles strategically parked in Muhalla’s.

Deep in the last strong holds of Al Queada

a brave Soldier woke up with a purpose

in the Diyala Province;

not knowing that today

someone’s voice would crack over these old green FM radio’s

“we lost six”

Six what?

Six Dragoons!

Six Soldiers!

Six brothers!

Six husbands!

Six fathers!

Six sons!

First Post of Many

Usually I am upbeat and ready to embrace it all to become it all. Today is one of those days where deployment just begins to wear on you a bit. After a while you just learn how to cope with whatever life has in store, put the complaints behind and try to figure out how can I make the best out of each and every day. This is my first post of many. I'll try to spend the first few days of post trying to catch you up to where I have journeyed mentally, spiritually and emotionally. I have been deployed since the end of July 2007 and set to be here until just before the end of this year (2008). That would make for a 15 month tour.

I did my first tour during OIF III Nov 05-06 in support of the 18th Airborne Corps, 50th Signal Battalion Airborne, where I was station 62 miles North of Baghdad in Balad for 12 months. When I finally make it home this time it'll be 27 months in a very short Army career that I have spent participating in what we know as "the war on terrorism". I am currently stationed in Baghdad. I will be very general with times, locations, names, this is due impart to what we Army folks call OPSEC (Operational Security). Its important for us not to give out information that may jeopardized our mission or the safety of any Soldier's.


I will also use this as an opportunity to share more of my poetry with you. As some of you know while I was in transition throughout Baghdad and taking command I had my first book published, "A Soldiers Poetic Response: A Slice of his Life". Poetry for me is the essence of life an aesthetic quality in which we use to articulate our beautiful struggle, life.

I had a lot more to write but I'm tired it's 12:20am Baghdad time and I've got a 0530 morning coming, but before I go I'll leave you with this:

War Continuum

This continuum is continually

consistent in nature.

I am watching this clock

like sand sliding down the sides of an hour glass.

My head brings depth to this pillow;

there is no silence.

Rather sleeping or awake.

As the booms and bangs of IED’s and rockets sound off.

Generators roaring,

Blackhawks,

Chinooks, and helicopters

flying over head.

Soldiers are in transit;

in and out.

Our proud chest are poked out –

through our ACU’s;

There is a special confidence in being a Soldier.

Miniature American flags fly from radio antenna’s on Stryker’s.

Night Vision Goggle’s give that illumination green light around the eye’s

Heightening a Soldier’s awareness –

as we own the night.

Dreams of our reception home.

Tired as the days go on.

Proud as the day is long.

This continuum is continually consistent in nature

as long as we are at war.