I've never mastered poetry that rhymes, when done well it attracts my mind and lends rhythm to the work, especially when recited. I have worked since my early youth (perhaps 14 or so) at expressing my thoughts in free verse or running prose, intended to evoke rhythms not dependent upon rhyme. This piece began in my 18th year and I carried it around with me modifying it slightly and reverting back to the original form for several years.

During my first assignment (Army folks would probably say posting) I had a crucible experience, and met someone who became a very good platonic friend. We were both 'specialists' assigned to the 527 Aggressor Squadron, which meant that we were both cut/cross trained as assistant crew chiefs in support of flight line operations and making jets meet missions. We were also expected to support these aircraft with our 'specialist' knowledge and training, essentially doing the job of two instead of one.

Airman Schoenhofen had rotated from the Aggressor unit at Clarke AFB in the Philippines where she had also been primarily a crew chief and consequently like myself suffered from lack of specialist training and knowledge. We handled these pressures the best we could, and partied hardy when off duty, often taking weekends away by train as our schedules permitted.

We held each other up as only comrades in arms do, and we each worked through our own demons often in each other's off duty company. Oddly the relationship remained entirely platonic ...

I reworked this piece of my earlier youth, and gave it to Airman Schoenhofen on my last night at RAF Alconbury. We stayed in touch for several years, but have been entirely out of contact with each other for over 20 years now.

I present it for your amusement in its final presented form, I was 26 years old:

Godspeed Carolyn, where ever you are ...

A Charge

When I see a waterfall
I'm reminded of how life is like that
each individual drop of water
collectively contributing to the whole
with the strength of numbers,
strength enough to carve rocks into canyon,
to erode away mountains,
to replenish the Earth.

Those ignorant, carve and erode
insensitive to their destruction
following ignorant leadership
to the rotting stagnant cesspools of
common squalor.

Those enlightened, set off on a different course:
Sprung from a fresh mountain spring
they soon enter helplessly into the polluted waters
joining the ignorant stream of individuals
lost en masse.

Sometimes, in the violence of a waterfall
individuals showing promise are lost,
sometimes they manage to remain individual
only to be lost in the stagnant water beyond:
there are pathetically few who will remain through all.

As two who have shared the same stream, though briefly
let us be sure to remain true when we enter the sea beyond ...

Let us be mindful of those who will follow
that our caving and erosion not spoil
that which we leave in passing
that those who follow will benefit from our passing ...

And have clearer passage to the sea.

for Airman First Class Schoenhofen November 1986

Absolutely beautiful brother, I've been entirely consumed by the effects of societal pressure recently, its not that I want to follow it, its that I feel resentment toward it and I know in my heart of heart's that I don't want to be angry with anyone, its just the pressure put on you for being different by the mass, which hinders your progress and makes it hard to remain 'whole' on the other side. Inspiring stuff friend, well done!

Thank you sir,

Another more recent effort, one with which I've never been completely satisfied:


I met a man on the road, heading in the opposite direction,
old yet familiar somehow,
was it the deep lines life had etched upon his face?
Or some vaguely recalled expression?

I was young, full of eagerness and promise,
life before me, beckoning;
he appeared to have returned as though from war, or some tremendous burden,
fully consumed, exhausted.

"Where are you heading son?" he asked a knowing expression and wry smile across that worn face.

"To seek all life has to offer sir." I answered.

Exchanging other pleasantries of the day, he spoke nothing of where he had been,
preferring his privacy,
yet somehow, he was so familiar, his features so like a member of my own,
his speech as though he knew my inmost secrets and desires,
with a knowledge which comes from life-long friendship.

"I'm not sure that you will find what you are expecting down this road." he said in parting.

"Where are you heading?" I asked looking after him.

"To the city of my birth, from whence you are venturing forth." he answered.

I knew then who he was ...

Excellent word-smithing, Kilted. Thanks for posting!

Thank you TB, oddly try as I might, I've never mastered anything on the wonders of trout!!! They seem to defy my limiting them to verse ...