THE FOG OF WAR
He marches in rhythmic step
Across a Country border
With his pack and rifle slung
In precise Military order.
He knows not why, he goes there
He is just doing as he is told
Following his mounted General
Who looks so proud and brave and bold.
The General knows not why he goes
But once given the Command
From those Politicians back at Home
He’ll march his Troops across the Land.
They would search out others of their ilk
Sometimes they will come face to face
With the same from “the other side”
Who wish them moved from that place.
The politicians would talk and debate
Though they knew not, of what they spoke
But they could say, “Well, we tried!”
Although all knew, that was a joke!
There might be something “over there”
That the opposite side thinks it needs
Maybe sometimes, land or riches
Or just merely, hatred’s bitter seeds.
The leaders of those Nations
Will say, “Peaceful options are all gone!”
And each one will point their finger
And blame it all on the other one.
But the Generals and their Soldiers
Who really don’t hate “the enemy”
Stand nose to nose and toes to toes
With weapons held, at the ready.
If no one blinks or turns away
Or says, “Let’s try to make things work.”
Then the awful truth about Mankind
Will most surely show its deadly quirk.
And through the smoke from the guns
And above the screams of fear and pain
The sounds of the Soldier’s cadence
Is heard through the fog of War, again.
And then Parents will be grieving
Spouses will weep through the night
Politicians pat the children’s heads
And say, “Oh yes, this War is right!”
Then, eventually the fog will clear
And all might seem right and well
But too soon it will roll in, once more
To shroud us in our own man made hell.
6-22-2006
THE LAND OF THE FREE
On Independence Day this year
We’ll wave our Flag, salute and cheer
We’ll thank all those who’ve gone before
And those today, we send to War.
We’ll think about what Freedom’s cost
Those who fought and those we lost
We’ll stand tall and proud and say,
“I’m glad I’m from the USA!”
Since it was signed in Seventy-six
There’s some who’ve tried some dirty tricks
To change they way those words are read
To change it to their way, instead.
It has withstood the test of time
Protected Rights of yours and mine
It checks and balances those things
Heard when the sound of Freedom rings.
But hear me loud and hear me clear
There are still those we need to fear
Who would take those Rights away
Little by little and day by day.
Don’t let anyone try to change
The way we live or rearrange
The American way of life we know
Born, two hundred thirty years ago.
For, once it starts to slip away
There’ll be no Independence Day
And too late we’ll look and see
We’re not “The Land of the Free!”
06-29-2006
SAINT VALENTINE’S DAY
As early as the Fourth, B.C.
Back in the Roman Nation
A boy was assigned a girl
For a one year duration.
Eight hundred years, a practice
Till church fathers sought its end
They found the answer in Valentine
Who was martyred at his life’s end.
Some two hundred years before
An edict by Claudius-II
Forbade marriage in the Empire
(Not too smart a thing to do!)
There were forces from within
And threats from lands all about
The soldier’s wives and families
He thought, they could do without.
He wanted all his Armies
To have but one thing on their mind
Hoped that one Love, of Country
Would make them a special kind.
Valentine, a church bishop
Saw young Lovers in their pain
He met them in a secret place
Brought matrimony back again.
He joined them in the sacrament
Helped them make their marriage vow
Going against the Emperor’s wishes
More than his laws would allow.
He learned of this “friend of lovers”
And had him placed under arrest
Tried to convert him to the Roman Gods
But Valentine withstood that test.
He even tried to turn the tables
Show Claudius the Christian way
Knowing he would be executed
For that was the law of the day.
While Valentine awaited his fate
He made friends with his jailor
Who had a daughter who was blind
Who searched for a miraculous cure.
Well, Valentine restored her sight
Through his faith he claimed, divine
Wrote a last farewell note to her
And signed it, “From Your Valentine.”
February twenty-four, Two Seventy
He was executed for his “crime”
And thus became a Patron Saint
To be remembered for all time.
There was an annual festival
Young Romans wrote greetings of Love
To young ladies they longed to court
Which Valentine oversaw from above.
The cards were named after him
The Fourteenth chosen as the date
When those messages were passed around
To try to change the Lover’s fate.
One of the earliest cards known sent
Was by a Duke in Fourteen-Fifteen
Preserved in the British Museum
Where, still today it can be seen.
And to this day, around the World
We still send those cards to Lovers
Asking, “Valentine, will you be mine?”
And sometimes, we even ask some others.
© February 3, 2006
This is a compilation of most of my 9/11 writings. I wish I'd never had
to write them!
Abe
A DAY TO REMEMBER
Anniversary is not a proper word
To mark the meaning of that day
And now, five years from that date
Is not nearly far enough away.
Too many families and loved ones
Still feel that pain down in their Soul
From the Towers to the Pentagon
To those who heard those words, “Let's roll!”
Hearts still ache and tears still flow
On the eleventh of another year
Those who lost will always miss
All those People they hold, dear.
There are still unanswered questions
For those who ask the reason, “Why?”
Was it really necessary
For all of those folks to die?
The nine/eleven Commission
They asked and probed and dug
Their many recommendations
Some dismiss, with just a shrug.
To correct all those problems
Will step on way too many toes
Might take some from their bottom line
We all know, that's the way it goes.
For those who make the rules
Most politicians are the same
The only thing they care about
Is to play the lobbyist's game.
If anything is to be done
The People, are who will make it so
We must write or fax or call
To make our Reps learn what we know.
Seems once they get elected
And they join that unique group
Theyforget from whence they came
And get caught up in the loop.
Not all of them are worthless
But seems there are very few
Who really want to do right
And represent me and you.
Our system is really broken
And there is really no quick cure
But at the polls in November
We can make a change, for sure.
So many things must be done
From our border to border
Butthere should be a sign in DC
That says it all, “Out of order!”
Some of the victim's families
Have been working every day
To try to make a difference
They could show us all, the way.
So as we celebrate the lives
And mourn all of those who died
In all their names we must try
To regain our Nation's pride.
“By and for the People”
Is the way that it should be
And whether it will or not
That is all up to you and me.
Del “Abe” Jones
9-05-2006
FOUR YEARS AND A WEEK OR SO
A week and more of suffering
From another Enemy
After four years of Heartache
In this Land Of The Free.
The Towers and the Pentagon
And Heroes of that fateful Flight
The total lost as yet unknown
From those of the Gulf Shore’s plight.
In both, the hindsight twenty, twenty
Unanswered questions asking, “Why?”
Will the next time be much better
Will we have learned or even try?
Will power struggles cost more lives?
Will they learn to communicate?
Or will it be the same old thing
As the bureaucrats seal our fate?
Nobody’s fault, but everybody’s
From the very bottom to the top
But using Human lives as pawns??
That really must come to a stop!
Some of us are very lucky
We watch the horrors from afar
We can go on with our lives
Never knowing, where those Victims are.
When just a little bit of planning
Could have saved some of those lost
There’s no excuses when prevention
Could be done at not near this cost.
If not for People helping People
And doing the task on their own
We would never see the Light
Where the American Spirit’s shone.
The politicians do their politics
And so-called leaders fight for turf
But, those with boots on the ground
Are the ones who show their worth.
We must have a true accounting
And not let those losses be in vain
We must fix whatever there is wrong
So this will never happen again.
While Osama still roams free
And with more Storms to come our way
Let’s all remember all those lost
Since that September Eleventh Day.
Del “Abe” Jones
09-10-2005
9/11 SHOW AND TELL
There’s many unanswered questions
That all those loved ones need to know
Maybe some important little things
Will help the healing, that goes so slow.
It’s not up to those in power
And officials who think it best
Everything must come out in the open
Before this thing can be put to rest.
The ones who grieve their losses
Are the ones who still pay everyday
And all they ask is for allthe truth
For that price that they had to pay.
They should get all of the answers
At the least all that there are know
And not be tied up in the red tape
By some bureaucratic so and so.
Del “Abe” Jones
10 Feb 2005
THREE AND COUNTING
Another anniversary
Of our “day of infamy”
Of battles against terror
And it’s war’s casualty.
Osama still on the roam
And the borders, we control (?)
Filling up with terrorists
Who come to thwart our goal.
Maybe, “we can win” the war
Or, “maybe we can’t”
Depends on who you talk to
Who’ll give you a different slant.
But, ask the friends and families
Of those who have already “lost”
And those who march in “harm’s way”
Who, really pays the “cost”?
The bureaucrats and diplomats
Political/military brass
Tell us it’s all necessary
And that, this too, will pass.
But, ask those who build the bombs
And blow themselves, to “Kingdom Come”
Who think killing innocent people
Will take them to “Martyrdom”.
They have no respect for life
Or the consequence of actions
Using any means to an “end”
Of all non-Muslim factions.
Our Nation is sadly learning
What others already knew
That the terrorists will never quit
No matter what we do.
We’ve also learned a lesson
That we should have known
We must work with other Countries
Because, we’ll never win, alone.
Del “Abe” Jones
09-07-2004
Our Lawmakers are Too Busy
(not taking care of our security and borders)
They are too busy doing nothing
And arguing about the same
Wasting our money and their time
With things like the "marriage" game.
Now they’re too busy getting ready
To go home until next year
Not thinking "the report" is scary
No, they don’t share our fear.
They don’t seem to think there’s danger
And the needed changes can wait
But, wonder what they will say
If they find out, next year was too late?
07.22.2004
THE CHRISTIAN THING TO DO
(Chritian Regenhard)
And the battle still goes on
Through the old bureaucracy
To make tall buildings safer
When there's an emergency.
The owners and builders
Need to spend a little more
To plan and build them better
From the bottom to top floor.
Lessons taught that fateful day
Must make us all duty bound
To make sure there is change
And that safer ways are found.
No doubt, lives could be saved
If we learn from Nine-Eleven
In the name of all those Souls
Who took that trip to Heaven.
Del "Abe" Jones
1-30-2004
IT’S NINE TO ELEVEN
Two years of hurt and misery
That seems, like yesterday
To think, it still brings tears
At least, does me that way.
Can’t imagine, with a loved one
Or, even a close friend
Guess, I could be far removed
It wasn’t mine, who met their end.
But, in that days’ memory
A little bit of each loved soul
Adds their little, special bit
That, makes up, the whole.
A small piece of all Americans
And, all people who live free
Bring a little something, to it
To what, the rest, will see.
So, we must show resolve
Not, let them see us sway
Except, when our heads bow
For, those lost, that day.
Nine days to eleven, 2003
FOR THE KIDS
(reading names on 9/11)
The children of our future
Read the names of those passed
A tear was shed for every one
From the first to the last.
"Daddy, we miss and love you."
"Mom, you’re in my heart and prayers."
"My Brother, you’re myhero."
And, "We miss you.", from sisters.
Godfathers and Godmothers
Aunts, Uncles and all Kin
Were all named and honored
With loving feelings from within.
Some names were hard to say
But, the Kids did quite well
Loved ones knew, who they were
That was, easy, to tell.
They stood there before us
And got through it with few tears
With a presenceand maturity
Far, beyond their years.
They did us proud, showed the world
The meaning, of "true grit"
And let all know, freedoms’ torch
Will forever, remain, lit.
September eleventh, two thousand, three
THE FINAL SOLUTION
I couldn’t watch tv no more
My thirst had been fulfilled
I spent the day, hearing those
Whose loved ones had been killed.
I shed a tear (a bunch of them)
Although, I shouldn’t say
Because a real, grownup man
Should not act, that way.
He must be strong in his ways
And not show, if he cares
He must step up, not go back
As he climbs, those social stairs.
He can’t be honest to himself
Because, the truth, might feel
Like he’s never felt, before
Like, something, kinda real.
No wonder we won’t believe
In mankind’s evolution
Because his stupidity
Might be the real solution.
9-11-03
Flowers in WTC pools
The beauty of the souls
Float upon the tears
As the people weep
9-11-2003
WORKING FOR THE DEVIL
Less than twenty-four hours
Until the anniversary
Of when we lost our innocence
In the land of the free.
We’ve had our share of tragedies
From Mother Nature and our own
But this terror from a foreign land
Is the worst, that we have known.
The sickest part about that day
Was the reasons that they claim
That they were doing the bidding
Carried out in their gods’ name.
Martyrs in their crazy minds
Headed for some promised land
But the Devil is who welcomed them
In the world of the damned.
The worst part about it all
Are the ones who’ll take their place
Who keep Satan alive and well
Within, the human race.
9-10-2003
SEVEN, FOUR, SEVENTY-SIX
In the year of 1776
Dreams of Freedom were Declared
New to the World, a way of Life
No way, to be compared.
Through the years, embattled
Some,tried taking it away
But, it survived, though changed
To what we know, today.
They’ve brought terror to our shores
And threatened our security
Made us run for cover
In this Land of the Free.
They made us see the World
In a different kind of light
Of the jealousy and hate
That would have, Freedom take flight.
But, the Soul of a Free people
Will always rise above the rest
To show the tyrants of the World
That Truth, comes fromthe Test.
Though, nothing is ever perfect
And we learn through our mistakes
Liberty will be triumphant
No matter, what it takes.
Our People and the Stars and Stripes
Will always lead the way
Because we know, what it’s like
To have an, Independence Day.
6-21-03
A TOUCH IN THE WIND
Itwas, a day for reflection
Starting, calm and so serene
Then,wind from those "Towers"
Started blowing, in between.
The names ofSouls, spoken
Seemed, to alter nature’s course
And what it seemed to be
They came to say, "Goodbye!", in force.
Reaching out and touching
All, who came to grieve
To say, "Get on with your life.
Because, we have to leave."
"But, we won’t go far.
We’ll be in every breeze.
And, if you listen, you will hear us
Rustling through the leaves."
"And, when those leaves have fallen
And the winters winds blow
Don’t worry, we’ll still be there
In every whirling flake of snow."
"Then when, the springtime comes
And all things grow, anew
Please take joy, in knowing
We’ll still be there, with you."
"They may have stopped our "being"
But, our Spirits, will soar
When you feel us in, the blowing winds
Where we’ll be, forever more."
Del "Abe" Jones
9-12-02
FOR, ALL THOSE SOULS, A TO Z
"A" is for, "all" of them
"B" is for, the "broken" hearts
"C" is for, those "calls" they made
"D" is for, when a "dream" starts.
"E" is for, "everything" left undone
"F" is for, those "fallen" heroes
"G" is for, the "good" times
"H" is for, where the good "heart" goes.
"I" is for, the pain "inside"
"J" is for, the "joined" hearts
"K" is for, the "kindness" shown
"L" is for, what "love" imparts
"M" is for, the "misery"
"N" is for, "never" more
"O" is for, the loved "ones" passed
"P" is for, that "pass" through Heaven's door.
"Q" is for, the "quiet" times
"R" is for, "rest" in peace
"S" is for, their mortal "souls"
"T" is for, the "true" release.
"U" is for, "until" we meet again
"V" is for, the "veteran" in us all
"W" is for the "war" we wage
"X" is for, the "x" factors call.
"Y" is for, "you" and me
"Z" is for, when we reach our "zenith"
With all those names, A to Z
That we'll all, someday, be with.
Del "Abe" Jones
09/11/2002
PRIVATE GALLERIES
Just think of all those images
Etched into every mind
Of every one who saw "it"
Each snapshot, one of a kind.
Each blink of the eye
Was another pic not seen
But, enough between the tears
Of, each horrific, scene.
Those pictures will always be
There, in our, minds eye
Locked in our private galleries
Until, the day, we die.
9-8-02
A LITTLE LESS
Well, it’s been a year now
Since we had that nightmare
But, it seems like yesterday
With, all the pain still there.
Life for most goes on
But, for some, stands still
With that empty void inside
They try to find a way, to fill.
We can all reach out to them
And hold them in our heart
But we can’t mend the hurt
That, tears theirs, apart.
No matter how we try
And no matter what we say
There’s no way we can know
What they went through, that day.
It’s just one year of hurting
That will last their whole life through
Shared with all the teardrops
That were shed by me and you.
But, we must count our blessings
In this "land of the free"
Although there aren’t as many
As, there used to be.
Del "Abe" Jones
9-8-02
SIXTEEN ACRES
A few acres of heartache
Of, the most sacred ground
But, all "they" see is money
The most valuable, around.
We all know, who will win
It’s "them", with all the means
It won’t be the souls, that cry
From, those most horrific scenes.
And if "they" build, buildings
Each window, will show
The reflections of a life
Someone, will never know.
There will be, some peeking out
And, looking to the sky
To, see the crash, that took them
And ask, the question, "Why?"
There will be, some looking down
And, trying to find release
Amongst the structures that "they" build
But, there will be no peace.
They were killed in an attempt
To hurt, the almighty dollar
Now, "they" want to put the greed
Right back, into that "holler".
The most expensive land on Earth
With some(?) dollars, for each "BEING"
But, more profits for "the few"
Is all we will, be seeing.
That hallowed ground, is for the rich
To make, "their" profits soar
As if "they" didn’t have enough
All "they" want, is more.
Even, sixteen acres won’t replace
A small part, of the pain
Of, those lost souls, innocent
We’ll, never see again.
Del aka Abe Jones
9-3-02
UNTIL THE END, MY FRIEND
I don’t ever think I’ve had
Since Oklahoma City
Something move into my soul
And the heart, of me.
The pain I feel inside
For all the human race
Makes me feel ashamed inside
And, want to hide my face.
I know I’ve always known
How cruel, we all could be
But, in the past year
Saw, more, than, I should see.
Nobody deserves
The wrath of the hate
But, then I stop and think
I didn’t have to wait.
I’ve seen it all my life
But, didn’t care to look
Until, I started writing
And, put it in a book.
A book, I shouldn’t written
For, the words hurt so deep
And the memories I know
I know, I shouldn’t keep.
But, it will never change
Until, we’re no longer here
Because the human, is the death
Of, life, on Earth, I fear.
Del Jones
8-26-02
FIVE MORE SIDES TO THE STORY
It seems the Towers and Flight 93
Dominate the headline news
But there were many others
Who were as painful to lose.
The men and women at the Pentagon
Who spend each and every day
Working to keep our world safe
And protect, "The American Way".
They could never have imagined
They were there, on the "front line"
In the battle to preserve the "Freedoms"
And the "Rights" of yours and mine.
In the midst of the "battle"
And beginning of the "war"
They stood, and faced the "enemy"
Did their "duty" and, so much more.
So many "heroes" in that building
That we will never, ever know
And so many acts of "bravery"
That the civil/military show.
We should all "salute" them
And bow our heads in prayer
To thank them for their sacrifice
To show them how much we care.
8-27-02
BUT, THE PEOPLE NEVER CAME!
On September eleventh
We all know, New York City
Was shrouded in a cloud
Of, the worst atrocity.
They waited in their scrubs
In the emergency room
Waiting for survivors
To be brought out of the gloom.
They waited on the sidewalks
Stretchers/wheelchairs at hand
Prepared for a disaster
They had, rehearsed and planned.
But, the people never came
As they waited through the night
Then, they began to realize
That, something wasn't right.
There should have been hundreds
Coming to them, needing care
And the hope started to fade away
As, they impatiently, waited there.
There were a few, brought in
And a few, came on their own
On this most horrific day
New York City's ever known.
They waited for the people
As thousands called, with a name
Searching for their loved ones
And friends, who never came.
The adrenaline was flowing
As they stood their sad vigil
Wondering when, the rush would start
But, beli