Fair Winds

To those of us about to die,
To each patriot and scallywag among our number,
To the men sailing for King and country,
Fair winds and following seas,

To those lads about to be run through,
The bodies soon to be broken and burned,
The men butchered by shrapnel and cannon,
Fair winds and following seas,

To those mothers and widows-to-be,
The saints left on home soil,
Those with newly cold beds,
Fair winds and following seas,

To those who’ll survive though mangled,
Cursed with phantom limbs and shellshock,
To the victims whose minds are now ravaged,
Fair winds and following seas,

To those names laid in granite before me,
To those lads who have earned a final rest,
Now upon clouds or burning in flames,
Fair winds and following seas.

Garden Of Corpses

This nursery is held often out of sight,
Behind church walls and ragged hedge lines,
Out of mind,
At least that’s the hope,
This garden of corpses,
Decorated by obelisks and headstones,
It’s home to crops like you and I,
Planted here by fate and chance,

The rows are a series of stories carved into granite,
This old soil holds more than morbid botany,
There are memories planted here,
From babes cooing to final embraces,
Joy and rancor and fear preserved,
Every romance and broken heart under the sun,
All eventually find themselves interred here,
Along with worms and flies,

Awaiting a harvest that will never come.

Fallout Of A Passing

Bang!
An atom bomb is dropped,
A line goes flat,
The news is akin to a shockwave,
A crater is left amongst the family,
A surgery becomes a mausoleum,

Grief emanates from the hole like toxic waste,
Clouds of dark veils and funeral processions,
From the ground zero of your ties,
Mother and brother,
Sister and cousin,
Only a rubble of memories remains,

After a chemical wash of tears,
A vigil takes shape,
At the dinner table,
An empty seat reeks of fallout,
The radiation has permeated each heart,
The poisoning will linger for decades.