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Of fire and fury
And blackened coals.
People like animals
Hiding in Holes.
Brother and brother
Man against man.
Fires of hatred
Are being fanned.
Across the nation
And ancient sea,
Man is fighting,
His soul to free.
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On a fine Spring day
Ripe for the hunt
There stands a man
With eyes to the front.
Straight and still
He stands with pride.
But tear filled eyes
He cannot hide.
Oh, high and proud
He holds his head.
In salute to brothers
Alive yet dead.
He mounts his steed
And swings around.
His pony champing
And stamping the ground.
Then into his mountains
He slowly fades,
The last Indian,
The final Brave.
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The burning slash
Of a thousand whips,
The dying groan
Of sinking ships,
The crying wail
Of a long lost sheep,
The soft low sigh
Of a man in sleep,
A woman's cry
As she loses her love,
The hymn of angels
Not from above,
All come together
In the final end,
With the gentle sighing
Of a saddened wind.
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Dark murky clouds
In an inky sky,
Like ancient galleons
Go sailing by.
With silence unbroken
By human means
These ghostly couriers
Invade your dreams.
Time stands still
For a minute in awe.
War and love come
To a silent draw.
Now through the clouds
A light breaks through
And murky dreams
Bid us adieu.
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A SELECT FEW POEMS BY ME FOR MY FRIENDS
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FROM WRITTEN ON A NAPKIN
By Robert H. Lamon
copyright©February 23, 1998
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Hear the Band; The drums' harsh beat.
Brass ringing in your ear.
Hear the tramp of soldier's feet,
Covering their fear.
Come, follow me each mother's son.
There's a war somewhere to fight!
Behind the flag, take up your gun.
But, beware the Asian Night.
For in the day we rule supreme.
Yet the dark holds no man god.
The Asian Night turns black from green,
And hell is once more trod.
Listen! Is that sound you hear?
Your fate that is to be.
Listen! Whose heart pounds with fear?
That shadow's but a tree.
A year and one is all we serve,
Each time that we come here.
We pray we never lose our nerve,
Succumb to all our fear.
At last that joyous day arrives.
The big bird takes us home.
Cold beers and cheers will fill our lives.
We'll no more be alone.
But where are all the brass and drums?
What day is our parade?
And why are all our boyhood chums,
Acting so afraid?
Now once more we stand alone
As fades the evening light.
The coming home has come and gone,
Thus falls the Asian Night.
© copyright 1998
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The earth was bare,
So clean 'twas swept.
A lone man stood
And low he wept.
The trees were gone.
No green he saw.
The ground was jagged,
All cut and raw.
No children laughing.
No golden sun.
Even the rivers
Had ceased to run.
He stood there
And bowed his head,
Mourning all
That now was dead.
Then Gazing on
That awful cloud,
He raised his arms
And cried aloud.
O Lord in Heaven,
Thy will be done.
But why am I
The only one?
And….
….So it began
…………Again.
© copyright 1998
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AND PEACE REIGNED . . . . AGAIN
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The world came crashing down
In a blaze of colored light.
Flames spewed from the ground
And day turned into night.
There came the boom of a giant surf
On a rock that once was Man.
While the screaming wail of a dying Earth
Rose up through tortured land.
Heaven wept at her dying groan
As she paid for mankind's sin.
Then at last the world was gone.
And peace reigned once again.
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WHAT IS THE SOUND OF LONELINESS?
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I face the night on an empty lane
And feel the vacant dreams pass by.
The world outside my shell of pain,
Ignores me here and lets me die.
I know that when the scenes all fade,
When memories are gone.
And in the cold deep ground I'm laid,
My deeds will not pass on.
I finally learned what is the sound
That, too late I can confess.
And one last thought goes spinning round.
"I", is the sound of loneliness.
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