One night I ruminated on my rather fractionated relationships over the years. (Almost every time, she was a good bit older than I). Why did I not settle down with someone nearer to my own age. I am 62 and been married for 17 years, but there was no real passionate love there and since she had the Big H, no children either. I wrote this over 2 decades ago in about one hour.

Where the Nice Men Go

 

I.

 

Alas, your relationship has been split asunder

So long to the security you’ve felt you’ve known

All that time you sat and wondered

Now you truly ARE alone

He turned out not to really want to change

(A drunken coward, quite deranged?)

Or the felonious type that beats his wife

At least for now, you have ended the strife

With kids and/or heartbreak somewhat in hand

You ponder things you wished to know

“Where will I find a decent man?”

I will tell you where the nice men go

 

We seek not pity of our current plight

If even one who reads this gains insight

 

II.

 

In our youth we were excoriated and spurned

(Because we had the gall to treat you with respect?)

Or maybe it was the wages we earned

(“Nah”, you said, “I’d rather try to change neglect!”)

When we were young, we cried and were distressed

As we girded ourselves for an unwinnable war

To know we were at best second best

Yet still we tried, and cried, some more

Then we quivered in rage at the men you would choose

(And wondered how and why dysfunctionality had merit?)

How could you suffer their neglect and abuse?

But we stoically refused to share it

We strived, at the same time, to earn successes’ share

While we watched your choices wreak wrack and ruin

We focused on life; we didn’t live laissez-faire

(While wondering “Does she really know what she is doing?”)

 

But time heals well, all the wounds, scars, and welts

To neutralize and deaden the Angst that we felt

 

III.

 

Now we finally discovered the fault was not ours!

(We did not choose a mentally myopic view!)

As we now exercise our earned career powers

It is good we were schooled in the likes of you

Our cars still aren’t chic and our dress hasn’t much changed!

We’re still the same NICE and boring men as before!

But even though you may find this quite strange…

Most, if not all, of you we learned to ignore

Maybe we were shy, not assertive enough?

Amazing, though, a kid to father your kids!

(Yeah, that reprobate felon, all stony and tough)

Of that infantile behavior, we are well rid.

 

Has this filled you in with clues well enough?

Does my poetic effort show refined, not rough?

 

IV.

 

Alas, you were drawn to that nova like flame

That quickly sundered itself to ash

Ours burn less bright, but steady, not lame

That nova, like Crystal, sure causes a crash!

Now whenever we turn our thoughts to you

And of futures no longer dreamt

Since you paid back our honesty with much to be rued…

We hold all mercenaries in contempt!

We still hope for companionship, but we’ve well learned the score..

As we peruse with interest our scholarly tomes

It is life that we love; only you we abhor

So we wrote our experiences down in this poem

 

**sigh** and still you ask where the nice men go?

…If you still have to ask…you never will know

 

 

Timothy G. L’innomme

 

TimLin@NetTaxi.com

 

 

Perhaps this is jingoistic but I am beholden to my Muse. She helps me pour my thoughts on to the page and makes me feel like I have accomplished something. I found the above picture inspiring if not also sad.

I Never Kneeled

1776 was when I first made a stand...
A General named George Washington wanted freedom for his land...
Though we were outnumbered by the redcoats on the field!
I pledged my life for freedom... and you know I never kneeled!

When 1812 came calling, I answered with my pride
though this was a time of war where many soldiers died..
Fort McHenry won the day with resolve made out of steel
This war was fought for freedom... and you know I never kneeled!

And I then told Santa Ana that we always would be free
no matter the blood and sacrifice on land or air or sea!
You have my eternal vigilance and sacrifice in war!
There is a new day dawning where we're chained as slaves no more!

In '61 there came a call; the union split in twain!
Where kith and kin opposed each other on a battle plain!
The foul crack of Minie ball, the wounded screams they pealed...
but even on the desolate land, you know I never kneeled!

When Europe drowned in blood and strife , I again answered the call...
freedom was in danger now and I couldn't let it fall.
We fought the hordes from Argonne... to the place called St. Mihiel..
While many of us fell.. you know that I never kneeled.

You have your food and plenty and your hearthfire is warm..
this is only because I donned a uniform!
A contract that calls for sacrifice  (and could include my life)
But I'll be there to heed the call amidst the war and strife!

WW 2 exploded with violence yet again!
There appeared to be no end of hate from men unto a man!
I marched into the maelstrom though my mind it reeled...
I had no other choice but to win the day.. and you know I never kneeled!

I appeared at Inchon and by Yalu I did freeze
It seemed that thirst for sacrifice would never be appeased!
But I was part of a bigger thing no matter how I feel
I'll protect the shrine of liberty.. and you know I never kneeled!

When you hoist an ale tankard and use your barbecue!
I hope that you'll remember me and then pay me my due!
The only time I kneeled was with a rifle in my hand!
I'll protect this country even when you fail to understand!

9/11 brought terror and another bout of war
But the Class C's they were donned though violence we abhorred
We battled a hateful enemy whose religion is surreal...
But I kept my pledge to the USA; you know I never kneeled!

You can kneel for our anthem; you are guaranteed that right...
It was earned by such as I who perished in a fight!
And though I lay in death's repose I not once did yield!
Why don't you reconsider.. because I never kneeled!

And now they kneel in protest as anger scars this land!
It's a mockery of those who died and those who took a stand
There was another Colin and a General he became...
If you see no opportunity here... you're the only one to blame...

A Jaded Lyricist

Johnny I hardly Knew Ye

This is my take on this classic tune.

There's drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
There's drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
There's drums and guns and drums and guns
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Where are your eyes with loving gaze, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes with loving gaze, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes with loving gaze
The metal fragments so foully raze
Your savaged eyes look like a maze....
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

Where are your legs with which ye run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs with which ye run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs with which ye run
When you were forced to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

Where is the mind that thought so well, hurroo, hurroo
Where is the mind that thought so well, hurroo, hurroo
Where is the mind that thought so well
One too many bombs or shells
Now your mind is trapped in hell...
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Where is the face I came to know, hurroo, hurroo
Where is the face I came to know, hurroo, hurroo
Where is the face I came to know
The flaming gas made for a show
Your face etched in the afterglow...
Oh Johnny I hardly Knew ye.
What of the lungs with which
you'd sing, hurroo, hurroo
What of the lungs with which you'd sing, hurroo, hurroo
What of the lungs with which you'd sing
The phosgene gas was an evil thing
And now your breaths are laboring...
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg
We'll lump you with the other war dregs
Here is a bowl so you can beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again
there must be a new cause to defend...
But they never give us back the men...
Johnny I hardly knew ye...

We Will Carry On!

"Carry On"

More original lyrics from me to you!!!

She said that she'll carry out the orders that were decreed...
This is what you get as an outcast of nuclear war!
The lands are still diseased...
but our conquerors are still pleased...
I tried being a despot but I got bored....

The harshly cast bells ring a sonorous note for the mutant damned...
because they can't survive where life still lives...
They will constantly be what I am...
As multiple reasons will give...
I tried being shy but I turned out way too brash..

Cast into the ashes of our own demise...
we paid too much attention to Jesus Christ...
While ignoring the lowly soldier who said...
Regardless of our sides...We will Carry On!!!

The rebel contingents are rallying for a final blow...
as if there is something to be gained by all of this.....
Human nature, it is perverse...
while our darker side is a curse..
If there's peace through bloodshed...what did I miss?

The official news is here; God has been disavowed..
we no longer have to take faith seriously!!!
The mutants are happy with that...
Excep0t for the hateful rats...
I tried out a prison but I want to be free.....

Freed of constraints that were inside our heads...
it feels good to be alive but I still envy the dead...
They don't have to make the effort to live..
but despite all that...We will Carry On!!

(instr.)

The cacophonous bells ring out liberty but not for all...
Despite the freedom I can still detect subliminal walls...
I enjoy being free...
but it must apply to all not just me...
I tried being crass but I got too polite....

Moving off ground and up into space...
a great diaspora for the human race...
It will be up to us to find our place..
As humanity says... We will Carry On!!!

Psychadelic Soldier (Song Lyrics)

Psychadelic Soldier
When I was in Junior High and High School, I waxed rather poetic during that time (even though I had a voice, it still needed time to be seasoned.) What can I say? How would a sixteen or seventeen year old be able to see the big picture of things anyways? We thought that Reagan was going to start a war with the USSR but what we didn't know was that the groundwork for the actual war being waged was laid down almost a decade before Ronald Reagan took office. That was not how I perceived things to be and I thought I would be drafted but the Selective Service signup was only done to scare the USSR...go figure! Out of all of the war poems I wrote (using my rather limited scope of mind) this one is most prominent in my memory even after all of the years that have gone by. I will be fifty in three weeks so as a sort of marking of the event, here is a poen I wrote in 1979. (With some minor changes)

Psychadelic Soldier

By Timothy Linnomme (Krug)

In a torrid, deadly valley
the dead are everywhere, all around...
Two soldiers walk 'mongst the fallen, one screams out and hits the ground
The other sees the enemy....CUT HIM DOWN....
The government plants its puppets like seeds sown....

Psychadelic Soldier.....Is your mind even sober...

Onward through the forest,
clouded eyes see a distant hill...
Command reflex in his mind....KILL!!!
Running like a robot
with a weapon of steel construction...
With its own message to preach..."Thou Shalt Kill!"

Psychadelic soldier, where are your virtues and your values?
Are they ground into the dust where you once laid?
The colors you hold sacred..the scarlet red of blood...
mixed with colorless gray of many shades...

The war it rages onward
with no victory or surcease in sight...
A soldier follows orders...
that inevitably means he will fight
And no morals or objections..
will really serve to make it right...

Even deep within a group he's alone...

Psychadelic Soldier there is danger to your mind!
You can't call yourself human while you are killing humankind!
What is filtered through your eyes you will soon come to despise...
as the colors you learned now fade away...

(Inst.)

See the sky...an unholy shade of red...
And the ground is an electric shade of blue...
You played the devil's hand,,.,and won with five aces...
Won your life...but lost your mind...

The war is finally over; to homecoming he arrives..
Despite all attempts to kill him, the soldier is still alive...
But no one sees the damage that the soldier carries inside...
Walking wounded, all is now dead to his eyes...

Psychadelic Soldier, have you lost your holy mind!
The people won't go near you or others of your kind!
The colors are electric, at least the ones that jolt your eyes...
You have learned...that its peace you despise...

And you're all alone....you're all alone......

The Legend of Hunter Joe

These original lyrics were created in the process of poking some harmless fun at my stepson. I loosely modeled a character in one of my novels after him as well.

The Legend of Hunter Joe

The legend goes about a rural boy
Who was hunting since the age of three
He really wasn’t of the well schooled type
Not a pillar of society
But when it came to tracking and hunting
Through sand or dirt or snow
The man, he had no equal
They called him Hunter Joe

If it’s big of if it’s small
He has it mounted on the wall
If they tried to hide or run
They still fell to his guns
He had a buffalo hide great coat
And britches made from doe
The man he had no equal
They called him Hunter Joe

It seems they had some fancy lab
Where good folks seldom trod
They were doing some creating there
In violation of the word of God
One of their creations, it got loose
And they knew not where it’d go
Said the locals “You wanna bring it in?”
Better call up Hunter Joe

And Hunter Joe looked at these men, dressed in their suits and ties
You brewed yourselves a pretty good mess on account of all your lies.
God is the only creator; what you’re doing here is a sin
But as sure as my name is Hunter Joe, I’ll bring the bastard in.

He spent his life to seek
Things with fang and claw and beak
There was nothing about huntin’ he didn’t know
He wore a belt of rattlesnake
And a feathered hat from drakes
…but every one just called him Hunter Joe

The creature was twelve feet tall and colored red and green
Like some sort of creature spawned from hell
It left a trail of ruin behind and the deaths of many men
Along with a sulfurous and evil smell
For four long months, Hunter Joe tracked the creature’s path
Until he cornered it inside a glen
His relentlessness earned old Joe the creature’s undying wrath
It wouldn’t be a matter of if they thought; it was only a matter of when
When the creature wrecked Joe’s favorite pickup
And threw him on the grass
Hunter Joe came up locked and loaded
“I’m gonna kick your mutant ass!”

He killed a lion with a spear
And showed no sign of fear
But this had to be his most deadly foe
If he got it in his sights
He would soon shut out its lights
But was this creature more then a match for Hunter Joe

The showdown ‘tween the creature and Joe was the stuff of legendary tales
Shots and screams and hisses sounded out across that vale
They waited for some silence before they ventured forth
Hunter Joe said he was the best; let’s see what that is worth.

There was wreckage and destruction as far as they could see
From bullet blasted ground and arrows through the trees
In a clearing they found the beast, trussed and ready to go
But one thing sure was missing, where in blazes was Hunter Joe?
The vale was searched both high and low after the terrible fight
They searched, they did, to no avail; Hunter Joe wasn’t in sight
It wasn’t until dusk they found something; something anyone would know
It was the tattered and bloodstained hat…of Hunter Joe

That hat looks down in silence as it stares out at the crowds
He sure as hell did what he said; enough to make any proud
Whether or not he died that day; no one really knows
But if you ever need something caught, better call up Hunter Joe

If its big or if it’s small
He has it mounted on the wall
Could it be the mutant beast had laid him low
That had never been done before
But one thing you should know for sure
You haven’t heard the last of Hunter Joe….

Only a fool bets against…Hunter Joe!

Original lyrics by CryHavoc