War and childhood (jobee's poems merged)

jobee

Psychosis and Money

What is it then that makes them pray,
that makes them creep, crawl, all day,
that makes them read some silly script,
their pride, confidence, slyly stripped ?

What is it then that transfers their minds,
to heavens, angels, spiritual kinds,
to attend Cathedrals in little groups,
then dress in robes as elitist troops ?

What is it then that makes them build,
on fertile land where food was tilled,
huge Mosques; Cathedrals too,
just to sing, confess anew?

Does it help in anyway,
to wile away the hours of day,
dressed in best on their knees,
praying to anything, making pleas?

Is it selfishness that makes them think,
we all need them to cower, shrink,
on our behalf at their request,
so that our souls be sublimely blessed?

The whiff of selfishness stirs the air,
I think it’s just themselves they care,
the work is easy, less to think,
from competition they wilt, shrink.

This God they advocate with fuss,
when ask for proof they won’t discuss,
O proof, O proof; what for you need ?
the devils home you’ll go with speed.

My lucid mind begins to stir,
I’m in the hands of a blackmailer,
I only ask; for what your sales?
they came back as hard as nails.

So business then shall prevail,
In Woolworth’s by an honest sale,
the Church an inquisition I think,
proof of God surely brinks.
jobee -05

jobee

Modesty

Would it better if men were more spared,
Women stopped praising he-men who dared,
Would it be better if tenderness reigned
Those blood and guts nerviest held, restrained?

Would it be better if modesty prevailed
We kissed and caressed all those who failed.
Ticker tape welcomes for those who are quiet.
Who mind their own business refusing to fight?

I think twould be better to stop making guns,
By spending the money on laughter, puns,
I hope in the future we’ll think again,
Governments think deeply about women, men.

The Animal kingdoms no problem at all.
Its humans that’s spreading, taking it all.
Should we consider our productive rate.
Lesson our urge to procreate.

China had fun with this little game,
Should we take stock, do the same,
Nature tells us to watch our stock.
Or we could be in for a blooming big shock.

jobee

midlandsmissus

Hi I really enjoyed it. It flowed freely, and created a good image. Well done!

jobee

midlandsmissus wrote: »

Hi I really enjoyed it. It flowed freely, and created a good image. Well done!

Thank you. jobee.

jobee

Dawn

At first a misty stirring light,
Dewdrops glisten, still, bright,
The sun begins its dewy climb,
As it’s done from dawn of time,

Something stirs in the bush.
Quickly silenced not to rush.
A misty meadow appears in view,
Bidding the silent night adieu.

Cowslips raise their sleepy heads,
Mottled sunlight slowly spreads,
Just a touch of gentle rain,
As birds begin their ancient refrain.

A young foal begins to rise,
Falling against its mothers side,
The air warms, starts its rise,
Mist disappears in a swirling glide.

The patter of rain begins to stall,
Just drips, drops, from branches fall,
By the sides of a swirling brook,
Gnats, dragonflies, feed, suck.

A gentle steam leaves horses sides,
As filtered sun their body chides,
Frolicking lambs skip, play,
Welcoming the heat of day.

The cool of morning says goodbye,
As skylarks ascend to hover on high,
We bid goodbye to another morn,
Wait the morrows refreshing dawn.

jobee

jobee

War over Braunstone

Walking round or sitting down,
I often get my mind around,
Things that happened long ago,
Up to my waist in drifting snow.

Or when I wondered how, why,
Birds took wing, learned to fly,
When women often talked of war,
Boyfriends they would see no more.

Airplanes that filled the sky,
Where they going? for what,why?
Vapour trails all day long,
Today you know there's something on.

Then at night what a show,
Amazing searchlights all aglow,
They pierce the sky off, on,
Till droning planes they shine upon.

Little silver specks on high,
Like luminescent fire fly,
Huddled together in groups of four,
Embroiled into the winds of war.

I hope that there's some more to come,
O boy! am I just having fun,
Id love to see a plane on fire,
Crash into that old church spire.

Parachutes come floating down,
Me the hero of the town,
Arrest them all take them too,
That old home guard arresting crew.

Alas, the all clear can be heard,
Then at once my thoughts transferred,
Tomorrows school, what a shame!
Not those silly sums again.

I much prefer Bluebell Wood,
Pretending I am Robin Hood,
Or Fir Tree Forest that secret place,
Where startled pheasants scurry apace.

I'm tiring now must close my eyes,
Lets hope tomorrow brings surprise,
With some good luck the schools ablaze.
I'll indulge in halcyon days.

Jobee a coy 3 para©

rgt320q

I rather like it. Rhymes, but flows easy while not feeling too forced. I dig the [perceived] message too, but there might actually be some bias now because of it.

jobee

rgt320q wrote: »

I rather like it. Rhymes, but flows easy while not feeling too forced. I dig the [perceived] message too, but there might actually be some bias now because of it.

QUOTE

Thank you, I do not read poetry, I class myself as an armchair doodler.
I want constructive criticism. I could never see the worth of organised religion.
All we ever had to do was behave ourselves, they maintained we cannot behave ourselves unless we pray to God/Allah, this makes no sense to me at all.

Also there are thousands of Christians in the US and UK armed forces 'volunteering' to kill anywhere governments send them to kill.
What happened to [Thou Shall Not Kill] Christianity never was the genuine article.

jobee

Dusk



The sun starts its downward glide,
Huge, glowing, reddoned with pride,
The days work loved, done,
Breathing life into mans kingdom.

Slowly descending this giant orb,
Emitting light that plants absorb,
Lower, lower, then disappears,
Only the glowing horizon appears.

A cool breeze begins to stir,
Flies, midges, clear the air,
The occasional sound of falling things,
A spectre of silence, all it brings.

Listening for the occasional noise,
As night things begin to express their voice,
Roaming free helped by the night,
Creatures wait to show their might.

The moons face observing all,
High, aloof, just a glowering ball,
Its craggy face not changing its stare,
Penetrating the cool night air.

Occasionally obscured by darkening clouds,
Rolling shadows, pillowing shrouds,
Starlight twinkling from afar,
Like aliens observing who we are.

Night now and day is done
Wait the morrows rising sun,
The celestial orb that gives us life
How much longer can its energies drive?

jobee
Copyright © - John Bishop - All rights reserved
Leicester.

jobee

Nothing happened, we are dying like flies anyway.
Publicity seekers want the big splash death.
The 'alleged' Christ was into suicide to get his own way.
I see us as space time travellers,no Gods, just ambition.

jobee

Moonlight Sonata

In November 14 1940 500 planes of the the German Luftwaffe bombed Coventry city center.Their code name for this operation was Moonlight Sonata. Edna Viner was an off duty probationary nurse.

A lovely starry moonlit night,
With extra incandescent light,
Parachutes, chandelier flares,
Edna Viner sits, stares.

Alighting from a city bus,
Bemused, blinking, what’s the fuss?
Air raid sirens howled, moaned,
“I bet it’s Birmingham" she groaned.

“Not here I hope, it’s my night out,
My one and only drinking bout”
Then calling in to see her friend,
Her leisure time soon to end.

At once the symphony began,
Coventry reacts to Hitler’s plan,
Incendiary bombs clatter down,
Like Christmas lights all around.

Buckets of sand douse the flames,
Ladies help in human chains,
Searchlights probed the sky around,
Fire engine's bells resound.

The sharp bark of Bofor guns,
The glistening sweat of Coventry’s sons,
High explosive bombs thud down,
To shake the heart of this boom town.

Fire watchers on roof tops high,
Silhouetted against the sky,
Buildings seem to leave the ground,
Bricks, mortar, spewed around.

The old Cathedral gets it next,
As if deserved of no respect,
High explosive bombs come first,
Then when the lofty steeple bursts.

Showers of incendiaries fall all round,
Blackening the very ground,
Just one great wall of searing fire,
For those inside a funeral pyre.

Cov and Warwick's hospital now.
All the staff survived somehow,
They worked all night, did their best.
Still 520 were laid to rest.

By: John Bishop (UK) jobee
Copyright © John Bishop 2004 - All rights reserved

jobee

Would it work on sodden ground,
Where moss, stingers, do abound,
When gnats, flies, will harass,
Cowpats mingle with starchy grass.

Would it help when bodies tire,
Tho' push, push, has quelled desire,
When young lovers kiss, smile
Our exhausted bodies rest awhile.

Has it got what my youth had got,
To rekindle fires when spent, hot,
Then ignore the brush of falling rain,
Our naked bodies make love again.

As evenings cool air begins to stir,
I only then let go of her,
It's not Viagra I'm looking for
I need that lovely paramour.

jobee

jobee

For christ sake say something.

What use is heaven to modern man
what use is after life
dont lets meet, clash again,
we're nothing but trouble,strife?

Why should God care up there,
he showed no form down here,
to settle our own frustrations,
we run to guns, beer?

Hey! Goddy boy try again,
you made a mess with us,
I packed in praying long ago,
was such a stupid fuss.

Just show your face, make a bunce,
lets see a happening true,
dont be shy, show your place,
give us all a clue.

jobee

Jim Campbell

a

jobee

Jim Campbell wrote: »

a

Whats the missing word in your quote? I like constructive criticism.

Re-write the poem, lets see what your made of.

jobee

We hardly see this twittering bird,
Mystery abounds only sounds are heard,
Pylons stretching for miles around,
Golden cornfields its terrain abound.

Moths and butterflies all in view,
After sucking the morning dew,
See the sparrow hawk fluttering high,
A scurrying rabbit catches its eye.

It drops like stone out of the blue,
A shimmering sun blurs its hue,
A startled rabbit sniffs the air,
Danger threatens must beware.

Its warren beckons yards apace,
Hope indeed in this deadly chase,
In it goes quick as a flash,
The screeching hawk lands with a crash.

High above the lark still sings,
What joyous melody this chatterbox brings,
All day long it entertains,
Only dusk can still this refrain.

Mystery surrounds this melodious bird,
Visual contact almost unheard,
Come days end it leaves the sky,
Still unsighted from human eye.

Copyright © - John Bishop - All rights reserved
jobee

tomasocarthaigh

Awesome, classic. You got a new fan. Ironically, yesterday I was listing to Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven on YouTube, and I wrote a poem about the feeligns it invoked... I post below.

Getting back to your poem and Coventry - I loved the flow of the poem, the ryming couplet verse is so classically English in poetry. It tells a great story, one woman, not of note, in the middle of all this madness, and commemmorates the little people, the ones that matter in the world, the victims of politicians meddling and madness, the hospital nurses, and the dead.

Coventry was also where the Rootes cars were made. We used to have a Hillman Avenger, and I run a small website about the cars.

This is a new favourite of mine. Have you a website where you publish to?

Now, to sign off, my Sonata poem!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6wgUmAn0Ido

jobee

tomasocarthaigh wrote: »

Awesome, classic. You got a new fan. Ironically, yesterday I was listing to Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven on YouTube, and I wrote a poem about the feeligns it invoked... I post below.

Getting back to your poem and Coventry - I loved the flow of the poem, the ryming couplet verse is so classically English in poetry. It tells a great story, one woman, not of note, in the middle of all this madness, and commemmorates the little people, the ones that matter in the world, the victims of politicians meddling and madness, the hospital nurses, and the dead.

Coventry was also where the Rootes cars were made. We used to have a Hillman Avenger, and I run a small website about the cars.

This is a new favourite of mine. Have you a website where you publish to?

Now, to sign off, my Sonata poem!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6wgUmAn0Ido

Thank you for your comments. I don't read poetry, so what you get is what you see. Couplets comes natural too me, all tho' ive been thinking of trying prose. I lived and worked in Coventry for 20 years. I now live in Leicester.

Enjoyed your Beethoven write, you are obviously a very sensitive person.

Lovely words and very well chosen, well done. No I don't have a site as such.
I posted some 'roughs' on here some time back under 'attack'.

I've just started to improve them and repost. Kind regards.john

http://com4.runboard.com/bcoventryalternativeforums.f6

tomasocarthaigh

A lovely rhyming poem with a great message.

jobee

In 1956 British parachute troops
and French Foreign legion Paratroops
attacked Port Said in Egypt.
I took part in that attack.


Suez. the reasons why.

Nasser up to his age old tricks,
closing the Straits of Tiran for kicks,
pouring verbal abuse at Jews,
trying to make the headline news.

Removing the British with great success,
the British rejoicing, saying God bless,
into their planes, boats, ships,
heading for blighty to fish, chips.

But Col Nasser had not finished yet,
Disraeli’s investment he had to get,
£4,000,000 we vested in this canal,
taxpayers money in this foreign channel.

"I will close this canal company down"
said Col Nasser without a frown
some honest Egyptian’s had their doubt
"this is thieving" they were heard to shout.

But close it down the mighty man did,
its all mine, there’s no need to bid,
not long after in a morning sky,
roaring engines were heard on high.

At a place called El Gamil ,
Egyptians asserted Nasser’s will,
the sound of shells, cordite smell,
men descending to a thunderous hell.

Ack ack and flack was poured at these troops,
but none of it mattered to these sturdy groups,
B companies men dropped over enemies heads,
alerting them to realities dreads.

Acrid smoke, cordite smell,
self propelled guns releasing shell,
streams of tracer searing a path,
fallen heroes in a bloody bath.

All because Nasser could not wait.
till that day in ‘68,
this worldly waterway would be his,
not one parent their son would miss.

To ALL those that fell at El Gamil.

[Jobee 3 Parachute Group. [primary source]

jobee

Bonfire night 1956

Eleven years after world war two,
airborne troops were ask anew,
parachuting down on Egyption sand,
Major Walsh plays his hand.

With Pte.Eccles marking the spot,
control falls to the Majors plot,
two platoon with Coates in command,
attack a pillbox as was planned.

Clements fires a bazooka shot,
Egyption soldiers lose the plot,
hands up and out they show their face,
Binnsy marches them back to base,

Major Stevens and B coy’s men,
fall amidst a snipers den,
badly wounded in the hand,
the Major stays and keeps command.

Then they attack the sewage farm,
Cpl.Woods fall, causes alarm,
with Maj.Stevens wounded again,
Captain Beale takes the rein..

C coy.attack the cemetary then,
Major Norman and his men,
call and get air support,
to halt the danger snipers thwart,

Pte Beech with bren in hand,
dispatches a soldier in the sand,
the Egyption's bazooka failed to fire,
soldiers remember to attach that wire.

To Hms. Albion we send good cheer.
for sending us those crates of beer,
Hms.Bulwark played their part,
to quench our thirst then depart..

Waiting for commando men,
C coy. took the cemetary then,
advanced still further to the flats,
henceforth stopping sniper attacks.

B.coy. then moved into the flats,
C.coy.then the barracks attacked,
the barracks fell with great success,
C.coy. occupied the officers mess.

A military success draws to a close,
but lets not forget those we opposed,
men on both sides were very brave,
in Britains small wars heroes are made.

Jobee.A coy.3 para.group [primary source]

My Commanding officer-Lt Colonel P.Crook[deceased]

My company commander Major 'mike' Walsh.

Later, Lt.General Mike Walsh.

jobee

Gamil Abdul Nasser
President of Egypt.
1918- 1970 .......

The postman’s wife gave birth to child,
Beni Morr village didn’t go wild,
another boy of peasant stock,
a scruffy urchin running amok.

no one saw no one cared,
with whom young Gamils thoughts were shared,
an active mind he noticed things,
golden bangles, golden rings.

from boy to youth with incumbent desire,
the military academy he did aspire,
with alacrity of mind the youth was blessed,
the officer class he quickly addressed.

as Major Nasser he first saw war,
when UN proposals they did ignore,
partition was offered the Arabs refused,
Israel from then belonged to the Jews.

Egyptians, Syrians, Jordanians attacked,
all three armies Jews quickly sacked,
a complete calamity was the 48 war,
the Jews gained more land than catered for.

after this shocking military defeat,
Nasser advocated officers meet,
radical change was planned in the land,
a coup d'etat with Nequib in command.

two kings they removed to clear the way,
then declared a republic would hold sway,
the removal of Nequib they had to arrange,
he was not in favour of radical change.

and so at last ‘Al Rayess’ emerged,
with agrarian reform he quickly surged,
more equality he certainly achieved,
removing the British to which we agreed.

alas his great weakness was Israel,
Fedayeen attacks would never prevail,
in ‘56 his skin was saved ,
for U.S. intervention he must have prayed.

in 67 he had to resign,
his military prowess was proved benign.
the West Bank, Gaza, Golan Heights and all,
his air force reduced to a fireball.

but luck indeed favours the brave,
the Arab people his skin would save,
rallying round when needed most,
breathing life into a military ghost.

in 1970 El Rayess would die,
the whole Arab world was seen to cry,
the postman’s son had died so young ,
in his short life liberation had sprung,

mistakes he made he would concede,
but beloved Egypt he had freed,
all in all we'd have to say.
young Jamal had won the day.

jb. Acoy 3 para group.[Al Rayess/ Jamal]
other names for him.

Fedayeen- Egyptian Commandos


I can't remember Nasser winning any war he went into.
His country was flat broke when he died.
But the press seem to like him.

jobee

Re: Attack!

Sir Anthony Eden-PM-MC-PC

born an aristocrat near durham town
handsome debonair of great renown
a commissioned officer in the first world war
the military cross for great valour

the battlefield he left behind
to oxford intellectuals he took his mind
arabic and persian was his choice
he quietly studied and spared his voice

At 23 years his future looked bright
already conditioned to fight the good fight
a passion for politics turned his head
the foreign office he made his bed

"chamberlain! chamberlain! what is this
appeasement! when and how is this
Im going chamberlain ive had enough
did you not see hitlers bluff"

but chamberlain quickly took the point
swiftly resigning his nose out of joint
as foreign secretary sir anthony was back
helping churchill form a coalition pack

minister for war this quiet man became
building the home guard and making his name
in ‘55 his ambitions matured
As PM destiny assured

In ‘56 stormy waters he met
president nasser he would not abet
blocking the suez and straits of tiran
israels destruction the master plan

ill in body but mind alert
britains will he would assert
with french and israelis upon the attack
egyptian armies we swiftly did sack

russia and america ask us to leave
israelis safety the UN would proceed
making him open the straits of tiran
unblocking the canal his workmen began

sir anthony later would resign
for years his health had been in decline
In 77 this great englishman would die
St Mary's in wiltshire his body does lie

I considered it a great honour to drop with

3 Parachute group,The French foreign Legion [paratroops]- The Israeli [paratroops].That took the Mitla pass.

Great Britain!, Vive le France, Shalom Israel, © 2002

Sir Anthony, you were right..
JB

Arial Sharon was a commander in the Israeli attack

Website

http://bcoventryalternativeforums.runboard.com/t456

jobee

Guy Mollet

Guy Mollet became prime minister of a French coalition government in January 1956.
Later that year president Gamal Abdul Nasser of Egypt announced he intended to nationalize the Suez Canal.The shareholders mainly British and French ask for compensation. Nasser replied “let them choke on their tears”. The French and British attacked, the canal was unblocked and compensation was duly paid up by 1963.

Guy Mollet. French Prime Minister 1956- May 1957.

1905-1975.

Born in Flers of ordinary stock,
A textile factory his fathers lot.
But Guy was different in many ways,
Showing talent from early days.

A teacher’s job at Arras school,
Education his working tool.
When Hitler came he stood his ground,
Giving the Gestapo the run around.

French resistance his chosen task,
Many questions the Germans asked.
Three times captured then freed again,
Skilfully avoiding the Auchwitz train.

After the war the political game,
National Socialism his ultimate aim.
Leon Blum he worked for first,
Right wing politics they reversed.

In ’56 he reached his peak,
Thus for France he could speak.
French PM he became,
Soon embroiled in Nasser’s game.

With Anthony Eden at his side
Would soon be known far and wide,
The Suez Canal was open again,
Another successful military campaign.

Compensation duly paid,
After this highly skilfull raid.
Well done Anthony, well done Guy
Well done soldiers from the sky.
Jb

Leon Blum=First French[Jewish] PM

jobee

Sepp Dietrich spent part of his youth as a butchers apprentice, then rose through the ranks of the German army to command the sixth SS Panzer Army.

Colonel-General Joseph ‘Sepp’ Dietrich SS
1893-1966

Ever met that kind of guy.
That sits and stares you in the eye,
You know he’s squaring for a fight,
Just hoping for a scrap tonight.

Pugnacious looking, cocky too,
Violence comes oozing through,
Never seen him in your life,
Clocking you then your wife.

‘Sepp‘ Dietrich fits that bill,
Punching people for a thrill,
Swaggering braggart, bully too,
Glowering over yours and you.

You would have thought this man,
Would have been an also ran.
No education to speak of,
Seemingly all push, shove.

Then soldiering caught Seppy’s eye,
He waved the butchers shop good bye,
In 1911 he starts his climb,
Through the ranks in double time.

The Great War came, went,
A rising star in this event,
A Sgt. Majors badge he wore,
Well decorated for this tour.

The war lost on Berlins say,
The Freikorps his next foray,
Fighting Commies on the street,
The Reds soon beat a quick retreat.

Dietrich soon caught Hitler’s ear.
Hitler quick to commandeer.
They formed the SS Leibstandarte,
Head bouncer then was Seppy’s part.

33’ became Dietrich’s year,
A star in Major Generals gear,
In charge of Hitler’s murder squad,
And boy! did he ride roughshod?

Killing all no questions asked,
For Dietrich just a menial task,
But soon again the winds of war,
Had General Dietrich back on tour,

No disgrace at high command,
With some success on Russian land,
Then he moved to western shores,
But allied pilots closed the doors.

Through a long military career,
Geneva’s rules did not appear,
To concern Dietrich in any way,
Only Dietrich would hold sway.

At Nurembourg we would hear
The cruelties of this career,
Unarmed prisoners made to stand,
The last word heard, the fire! command.

Jb.Acoy 3 para.©©

Fuinseog

jobee wrote: »

Sepp Dietrich spent part of his youth as a butchers apprentice, then rose through the ranks of the German army to command the sixth SS Panzer Army.

Colonel-General Joseph ‘Sepp’ Dietrich SS
1893-1966

Ever met that kind of guy.
That sits and stares you in the eye,
You know he’s squaring for a fight,
Just hoping for a scrap tonight.

Pugnacious looking, cocky too,
Violence comes oozing through,
Never seen him in your life,
Clocking you then your wife.

‘Sepp‘ Dietrich fits that bill,
Punching people for a thrill,
Swaggering braggart, bully too,
Glowering over yours and you.

You would have thought this man,
Would have been an also ran.
No education to speak of,
Seemingly all push, shove.

Then soldiering caught Seppy’s eye,
He waved the butchers shop good bye,
In 1911 he starts his climb,
Through the ranks in double time.

The Great War came, went,
A rising star in this event,
A Sgt. Majors badge he wore,
Well decorated for this tour.

The war lost on Berlins say,
The Freikorps his next foray,
Fighting Commies on the street,
The Reds soon beat a quick retreat.

Dietrich soon caught Hitler’s ear.
Hitler quick to commandeer.
They formed the SS Leibstandarte,
Head bouncer then was Seppy’s part.

33’ became Dietrich’s year,
A star in Major Generals gear,
In charge of Hitler’s murder squad,
And boy! did he ride roughshod?

Killing all no questions asked,
For Dietrich just a menial task,
But soon again the winds of war,
Had General Dietrich back on tour,

No disgrace at high command,
With some success on Russian land,
Then he moved to western shores,
But allied pilots closed the doors.

Through a long military career,
Geneva’s rules did not appear,
To concern Dietrich in any way,
Only Dietrich would hold sway.

At Nurembourg we would hear
The cruelties of this career,
Unarmed prisoners made to stand,
The last word heard, the fire! command.

Jb.Acoy 3 para.©©

why not post this in the WW2 forum (societies)

jobee

Fuinseog wrote: »

why not post this in the WW2 forum (societies)

Do you mean the site called [Society]on this forum,if so, i see nothing about war on there.Cheers

I did not serve in the second world war, i was far to young.

Fuinseog

jobee wrote: »

Do you mean the site called [Society]on this forum,if so, i see nothing about war on there.Cheers

I did not serve in the second world war, i was far to young.

boards.ie > Soc > Military > World War II

jobee

General Vo Nguyen Giap

General Giap.
Who defeated the French at Dien Bien phu
and forced a political defeat on combined
forces in the Vietnam War.
In fairness to the combined forces [largely American]
they won every major land battle that was fought
in the Vietnam War including the Tet Offensive.

They were indeed military victorious but lost the
political initative.

---

A small village in North Vietnam,
Is where the great Generals life began,
In village huts with muck packed floors,
The French commanded, made the laws.

An Xa village was quite unknown,
For hundreds of years rice was grown,
Goats, animals, moved around,
Muck, dung, covered the ground.

But young Giap wasn't the same,
Inside his head was an excellent brain,
He didn't like the French in command,
It wasn't their culture, it wasn't their land.

Off to Hoa to school he went,
On intellectual progress he was bent,
At just 13 his nationalist mind,
Was causing trouble a mature kind.

This precocious child the French noticed,
The Surete added him to their list,
Not knowing then he would bid them adieu,
At the battle of Dien Bien Phu.

A degree in economics he would attain,
His countries freedom his earnest aim,
Military tactics he studied with zeal,
The intelligence to master, turn for real.

At Dien Bien Phu he made his name,
A place in government he did attain,
With Directive 15, the North made its claim,
Unification was their ultimate aim.

So General Giap was placed in command,
The mandate to unite and free his land,
Political adventure the stuff of dreams,
Only unification by military means.


All through the sixties the battle raged.
To setpiece battles the North rarely engaged,
A guerilla campaign Giap wanted, got,
Time was irrelevant in his little plot.

But time was important on the American scene,
American dead on the TV screen,
After Tet they knew it was lost,
Giap had won at enormous cost,

Vietnam is free as ever its been,
Whether its better remains to be seen,
The best laid plans of mice, men,
They did put humpty together again.

Jobee 3 para.

jobee

Love

When I say, I love you then,
Would you care to hear again
Your face reveals nought to me,
I feel, I need, to find some key.

Im okay within myself,
Would you care to trouble your self,
Ever thought to lower your pride,
Put personal feelings to one side.

Ever thought to be a girl ,
With mind, body, in a whirl,
To walk, talk, then jest with me,
We'll sit beside some country tree.

Holding hands, being nice,
Let our lips touch once, twice,
I'll just admire your lovely face,
As bodies touch in warm embrace.

Lets sit beside that country pond,
Where you walk, seem so fond,
Where water boatmen skip, play,
Protected from the heat of day.

By weeping willows, fronded trees,
Swaying gently in evenings breeze,
Watch ripples form, circle out,
Baby ducks go walk about.

See speckled sunlight filter down,
On shimmering water that makes us frown,
Rustling reeds that gently sway,
Could it be where fairies play?.

Tomorrow then do you agree?
I'll meet you by the village tree,
We'll walk, talk, kiss again,
When I say, I love you then.
jobee

CBradbury

This poem is excellent. Reminds me of something that I once had.
Nice work.

jobee

CBradbury wrote: »

This poem is excellent. Reminds me of something that I once had.
Nice work.

Thank you Brad,j

jobee

The Oak in Winter


don’t stare at me in winter time
I'm just an oak tree not a pine
pines stay neatly dressed all year
come winters chill they have no fear

from chilly winds, freezing snow
that rack my bough from top to toe
pouring rain, biting sleet
unguarded trunk, branches meet

pines don’t have this awful stress
casting off a summer dress
they don’t wear my worried frown
as dancing leaves flutter down

changing partners on the way
acknowledging their final day
hello, goodbye, its time to quit
no good sighing this is it

dance be merry twirl around
twist flutter to the ground
make a carpet o so rich
block the farmers drainage ditch

the pine looks on with nonchalant air
smartly dressed with not a care
my silhouette is stark, bare
to natures gaze, freezing air

O how I wish I was a pine
to hold these dying leaves of mine
don’t stare at me in winter time
come back in May, I'll be fine

jb©© Jobee

jobee

Aug 27th, 2010 - 9:26 AM
Quote Reply Winner in Nam, 100 years old.

General Vo Nguyen Giap’s daily photos

17:23' 25/08/2009

(GMT+7)
VietNamNet Bridge – Though nearly 100 years old, top-ranking General Vo Nguyen Giap still reads books and newspapers and visits the old battlefield.

On the occasion of his 99th birthday, we would like to introduce photos of the famous general taken by journalist Tran Hong.
YOUR QUOTE: prelates of the world--take those silly frocks off

jobee

The most unconventional General in the British army
during the Second World War was undoubtedly Major
General Orde Charles Wingate. His eccentricity in
matters of dress, diet, and military operations had
caused comment even before the Second World War.
Military they were not successful , therefore Wingate
can only be regarded as a pioneer in that field.

Not succesfull in Burma, the Japenese ignored him.

Major General Orde Charles Wingate DSO.
1903- 1944

Unconventional in any day,
In diet, in dress, in military fray,
Drawing attention the year he began,
Eccentricity the master plan.

Fluent in Arabic he went to Sudan,
But shortly after a change of plan,
To Palestine the next event,
Where Jew and Arab wouldn't relent.

Jews he favoured in this timeless war,
Advising how to settle the score,
Night patrols, surprise tactics,
Developing his bag of tricks.

Diverse, changing, never the same,
Frustrating Arabs in this little game,
Haile Selasse wanted him next,
Italian soldiers his country annexed.

Wingates skill came to the fore,
Soon Italians reigned no more,
Haile Selassie back on the throne,
Ruling Ethiopia virtually alone.

Burma next and different terrain,
Japanese soldiers ruled this domain,
Wingate ruthlessly over the top,
His badly wounded instantly shot.

But Japanese soldiers not easily fooled,
In jungle tactics efficiently schooled,
Burmese, Ghurkhas, British elite,
Speedily outwitted, made to retreat.

Deep penetration his last campaign,
For him a theory it would remain,
In 44' he took to the sky,
At 41 years young Wingate would die.

Jobee. A coy 3 para.©©

Antilles

Are you going somewhere with these?

jobee

Antilles wrote: »

Are you going somewhere with these?

I have been published.

Antilles

Ok, not sure why that's relevant. It just seems your flooding the board a bit.

jobee

Antilles wrote: »

Ok, not sure why that's relevant. It just seems your flooding the board a bit.

You ask "am I going anywhere", i said "Ive been published"

My answer was relevant.

jobee

Sir Anthony Eden-PM.MC.PC.

born an aristocrat near Durham town
handsome debonair of great renown
a commissioned officer in the first world war
the Military Cross for great valour

the battlefield he left behind
to Oxford intellectuals he took his mind
Arabic and Persian was his choice
he quietly studied spared his voice

at 23 years his future looked bright
already conditioned to fight the good fight
a passion for politics turned his head
the Foreign Office he made his bed

Chamberlian! Chamberain! what is this
appeasement! when and how is this
Im going Chamberlain ive had enough
did you not see Hitlers bluff

but Chamberlain quickly took the point
swiftly resigning his nose out of joint
as Foreign Secretary Sir Anthony was back
helping Churchill form a coalition pack

Minister for War this quiet man became
building the home guard, making his name
in ‘55 his ambitions matured
As PM destiny assured

In ‘56 stormy waters he met
President Nasser he would not abet
blocking the Suez and Straits of Tiran
Israels destruction the master plan

ill in body but mind alert
Britains will he would assert
with French and Israelis upon the attack
Egyptian armies we swiftly did sack

Russia and America ask us to leave
Israel's safety the UN would proceed
making him open the Straits of Tiran
unblocking the canal his workmen began

Sir Anthony later would resign
For years his health had been in decline
In '77 this great Englishman would die
St Mary's in Wiltshire his body does lie

I considered it a great honour to drop with

3 Parachute group,The French foreign Legion, [paratroops] The Israeli [paratroops] that took the Mitla pass.

Great Britain! Vive le France! Shalom Israel © 2002

Sir Anthony, you were right..
Jobee a coy 3 parachute group.

Arial Sharon was a commander in the Israeli attack

jobee

Antilles wrote: »

Ok, not sure why that's relevant. It just seems your flooding the board a bit.

/QUOTE]
So you don't want creative writing posted on the creative writing site.

Its all getting rather confusing. Go see your doctor.

pickarooney

Play nice, kids. There's no rule against opening a new thread for every piece of poetry as opposed to grouping them all in one thread - that's a personal choice.

As for "where you're going" I presume it to be a question regarding whether you're looking for feedback or just posting your work for other reasons.

jobee

Audie Murphy. soldier,actor, songsmith.,poet .

Audie Murphy 1924 -1971.

He won every military medal his country could give.

A hoe and a plough he was born to steer.
In order to eat, bring good cheer,
All day long in the sweltering sun,
Such is the lot of a share croppers son.

Baby faced Murph, brothers too,
Sweated it out without fuss, ado,
Keeping the young ones happy, fed,
Awaiting dusk, then exhausted to bed.

Across the pond on foreign soil,
A man named Hitler started to spoil,
Pinching land, on the make,
All before him started to shake,

The winds of war caught Murphy’s ears,
At just 16, so tender in years,
The Marines refused him told him no!
But Murphy determined to give it a go.

To the army’s office he showed his face,
His sharp shooting skill noted apace,
He fainted, collapsed, on his first foot drill,
Not really the stuff to give Hitler a chill.

As a post office clerk they gave him a slot,
Sorting mail would be his little lot,
Overseas he went at last.
A chance he saw to give it a blast.

To Morocco, Sicily, Italy too,
Upon Anzio beach his talents grew,
The kid from Texas began to grow,
The Army was in for the Lord Mayors show..

Promoted to Sergeant quick as a flash,
Baby faced Murph showed nerve, dash,
Guts galore under enemy fire,
Even wounded he would not retire.

In just twelve months under fire,
A lieutenants pip he would acquire,
Punching a rookie on a fiery day,
Forgetting the rules in the heat of fray.

In operation Anvil for the freedom of France,
He sure led the Germans a merry dance,
North to Strasbourg his luck would fail,
A dangerous wound would leave him frail,

240 enemy was his final toll,
A soldiers soldier in heart, soul,
In 71 he fell from the sky,
A faulty plane caused him to die.

In Arlington Cemetery this great soldier lies,
His people pass with respect, sighs,
Never again will this planet see.
A supreme warrior as mighty as he.

John 'jobee' bishop 3 parachute group, ©

Music career
In addition to acting, Murphy also became successful as a country music songwriter. teaming up with such talented musicians and composers as Guy Mitchell, Jimmy Bryant, Scott Turner, Coy Ziegler, and Terri Eddleman. Murphy's songs were recorded and released by such performers as Dean Martin, Eddy Arnold, Charley Pride, Jimmy Bryant, Porter Waggoner, Jerry Wallace, Roy Clark, and Harry Nilsson. His two biggest hits were "Shutters and Boards" and "When the Wind Blows in Chicago". Eddy Arnold recorded the latter for his 1983 RCA album, Last of the Love Song Singers

---

Poems by Audie Murphy



THE CROSSES GROW ON ANZIO
Oh, gather 'round me, comrades; and listen while I speak
Of a war, a war, a war where hell is six feet deep.
Along the shore, the cannons roar. Oh how can a soldier sleep?
The going's slow on Anzio. And hell is six feet deep.
Praise be to God for this captured sod that rich with blood does seep.
With yours and mine, like butchered swine's; and hell is six feet deep.
That death awaits there's no debate; no triumph will we reap.
The crosses grow on Anzio, where hell is six feet deep.

. . . Audie Murphy, 1948


ALONE AND FAR REMOVED
Alone and far removed from earthly care
The noble ruins of men lie buried here.
You were strong men, good men
Endowed with youth and much the will to live
I hear no protest from the mute lips of the dead.
They rest; there is no more to give.

So long my comrades,
Sleep ye where you fell upon the field.
But tread softly please
March o'er my heart with ease
March on and on,
But to God alone we kneel.
. . . Audie Murphy


FREEDOM FLIES IN YOUR HEART
LIKE AN EAGLE
Dusty old helmet, rusty old gun,
They sit in the corner and wait -
Two souvenirs of the Second World War
That have withstood the time, and the hate.
Mute witness to a time of much trouble.
Where kill or be killed was the law -
Were these implements used with high honor?
What was the glory they saw?

Many times I've wanted to ask them -
And now that we're here all alone,
Relics all three of a long ago war -
Where has freedom gone?

Freedom flies in your heart like an eagle.
Let it soar with the winds high above
Among the spirits of soldiers now sleeping,
Guard it with care and with love.

I salute my old friends in the corner,
I agree with all they have said -
And if the moment of truth comes tomorrow,
I'll be free, or By God, I'll be dead!

. . . Audie Murphy

jobee

pickarooney wrote: »

Play nice, kids. There's no rule against opening a new thread for every piece of poetry as opposed to grouping them all in one thread - that's a personal choice.

As for "where you're going" I presume it to be a question regarding whether you're looking for feedback or just posting your work for other reasons.

QUOTE

If you spot any historical mistakes please point them out.
I work hard at accuracy. Thank you,john

pickarooney

jobee wrote: »

If you spot any historical mistakes please point them out.
I work hard at accuracy. Thank you,john

For historical fact-checking, the military forum regulars would be more likely to be able to spot any anomalies, I reckon.

cobsie

I've read all the poems that you've posted here and this is MHO on them: they're boring.

There is no real point of interest or intimacy in any of them. They are just patchy reconstructions of historical figures, without any re-imagining of events or characters. There is no depth, and not much beauty, either.

Why not zero in on just a single event from one of these figures' lives and imaginatively reconstruct it? It might actually bring the person to life.

Anyway, that's my two cents! Cheers.

jobee

cobsie wrote: »

I've read all the poems that you've posted here and this is MHO on them: they're boring.

There is no real point of interest or intimacy in any of them. They are just patchy reconstructions of historical figures, without any re-imagining of events or characters. There is no depth, and not much beauty, either.

Why not zero in on just a single event from one of these figures' lives and imaginatively reconstruct it? It might actually bring the person to life.

Anyway, that's my two cents! Cheers.

/QUOTE]

Then again, i'm not asking you read them.

Actually, informative poetry was the original stuff, descriptive poetry
was an abortion.

jobee

pickarooney wrote: »

For historical fact-checking, the military forum regulars would be more likely to be able to spot any anomalies, I reckon.

Actually all the relevant info is on your computer, there is nothing stopping you checking any anomalies.

jobee

pickarooney wrote: »

For historical fact-checking, the military forum regulars would be more likely to be able to spot any anomalies, I reckon.

ONE of your military team put a poem on General Giap on the ww2 forum.
Giap took no part in ww2. The French had murdered his wife and he was committing himself to getting revenge on them by learning military tactics in China. I am not impressed with your military crew.

jobee

I cannot open up your rhymers club.

cobsie

I think you are, implicitly, asking me to read them by posting them on a public forum. You are not, wisely, asking me to like them.

Also, whatever poetry was once in fashion is irrelevant. I've read Beowulf and The Faerie Queen but I couldn't possibly read them in the same spirit as their original audience. I can't take my sensibility out of the modern day.