Salute |
|
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
Isn't it fascinating how technology has shrunk our world,
Yet still the nastiness,
Brutality,
Authenticity of agony,
Can remain so hidden?
On December 21st, 2015,
My life did not change significantly,
But some of those around me did.
I knew what happened
As soon as I saw his face on the screen.
I remember jolting up from bed,
Going from relax mode to react mode,
Suddenly insignificant conversations slowed,
To a frightening truth.
He was plastered
On national
News,
One of my neighbors.
He was mentioned,
With such lack of tension,
This father to my daughter's friend.
He stood six-foot-six,
Or so it seemed,
Strapping.
He was the prototype
Of All-American,
The boy that any girl here
Would have been proud to bring home to dad;
And lucky.
I could only think of his boy,
Four,
Being disbanded,
His wife,
So strong,
Now disbanded,
Backhanded by nefarious _______
On December 21st, 2015
I realized,
That as connected as I'm made to feel;
As informed as I'm led to believe I am;
Facts
Are not yet history,
I can't see now in a book;
My vision is intentionally stripped of me.
It's as if I'm not allowed
To know what's happening.
See,
Primetime
Is hemorrhaging bullshit stories
About the weather backing up morning traffic,
The new Jurassic movie that's a classic,
Fucking psychographically studied social media habits,
And
I guess I've just had it;
Everything I'm forced to see,
Everything imposed on me,
The words and tone they want me to hear,
The buzz,
It's all a sheath.
It's covering blood.
Maybe what I'm saying,
And all that I'm conveying,
Is just,
Schism;
But proliferation of information
Sure feels like a media prison;
We are made to only know what a select few choose to broadcast.
We are unwillingly ignorant.
We don't hear about the war,
That's happening as I recite this poem,
The war that,
Right now,
Rips another man from his home.
On December 21st, 2015,
It took the rebirth of an enemy,
An entity
We hadn't heard about in years,
To surface how much hatred
Is so blatantly
Aided
There was something about his smile,
It was genuine,
And he had great teeth...
But it was something else.
His smile felt safe.
And the last time I saw him,
Everything felt the same
As it had the day before.
We talked about our trucks
His boy and my girl
Pretended to be ninja turtles.
His eyes gleamed so contently
When he talked about taking our family fishing on his boat.
I shook his hand,
Wished him Godspeed,
Because I heard that's the thing to do.
But I didn't really 'get' where he was going.
I didn't really understand
That nestled between mountains
In far away lands,
Were vessels with the shouts and,
The cars are detonating vans,
Mines hiding in sands,
Real snipers,
Not video games,
Hide in the high lands,
Waiting to kill.
Waiting to take life.
Everyday
We neglect what's happening far away.
Everyday
We scroll social posts
And laugh at the memes,
Lend hours to sports,
Stare at the mirror
Our jeans.
And I'm not saying its wrong.
That's just what it is.
He told me once,
When he came back from his second tour,
That he was so happy to eat a burger.
We talked about grilling,
Our trucks,
College sports and fishing.
And when he said,
"Yeah, one day we'll have to get both families out on the boat,"
I felt blessed,
That someone of his stature,
Someone so cool,
So...so good,
Wanted me to be part of his life.
On December 21, 2015,
I felt that I lost a friend.
But this is not a selfish poem,
And all my wife and I could think of was his family.
He had a boy,
He was four.
He was a four year old, warm and cute kid,
One who looked forward to my daughter
Walking into daycare every day to play.
On Halloween,
He dressed just like his dad,
And I would have too
If he was my pops,
I would have idolized his every move,
And I'm sure not only his family did,
But the precinct brothers, too;
This soldier was also a cop.
Fifteen years.
See it took the rebirth of an entity
We hadn't heard about in years,
Out of mind.
Isn't it fascinating how technology has shrunk our world,
Yet still the nastiness,
Brutality,
Authenticity of agony,
Can remain so hidden?
On December 21st, 2015,
My life did not change significantly,
But some of those around me did.
I knew what happened
As soon as I saw his face on the screen.
I remember jolting up from bed,
Going from relax mode to react mode,
Suddenly insignificant conversations slowed,
To a frightening truth.
He was plastered
On national
News,
One of my neighbors.
He was mentioned,
With such lack of tension,
This father to my daughter's friend.
He stood six-foot-six,
Or so it seemed,
Strapping.
He was the prototype
Of All-American,
The boy that any girl here
Would have been proud to bring home to dad;
And lucky.
I could only think of his boy,
Four,
Being disbanded,
His wife,
So strong,
Now disbanded,
Backhanded by nefarious _______
On December 21st, 2015
I realized,
That as connected as I'm made to feel;
As informed as I'm led to believe I am;
Facts
Are not yet history,
I can't see now in a book;
My vision is intentionally stripped of me.
It's as if I'm not allowed
To know what's happening.
See,
Primetime
Is hemorrhaging bullshit stories
About the weather backing up morning traffic,
The new Jurassic movie that's a classic,
Fucking psychographically studied social media habits,
And
I guess I've just had it;
Everything I'm forced to see,
Everything imposed on me,
The words and tone they want me to hear,
The buzz,
It's all a sheath.
It's covering blood.
Maybe what I'm saying,
And all that I'm conveying,
Is just,
Schism;
But proliferation of information
Sure feels like a media prison;
We are made to only know what a select few choose to broadcast.
We are unwillingly ignorant.
We don't hear about the war,
That's happening as I recite this poem,
The war that,
Right now,
Rips another man from his home.
On December 21st, 2015,
It took the rebirth of an enemy,
An entity
We hadn't heard about in years,
To surface how much hatred
Is so blatantly
Aided
There was something about his smile,
It was genuine,
And he had great teeth...
But it was something else.
His smile felt safe.
And the last time I saw him,
Everything felt the same
As it had the day before.
We talked about our trucks
His boy and my girl
Pretended to be ninja turtles.
His eyes gleamed so contently
When he talked about taking our family fishing on his boat.
I shook his hand,
Wished him Godspeed,
Because I heard that's the thing to do.
But I didn't really 'get' where he was going.
I didn't really understand
That nestled between mountains
In far away lands,
Were vessels with the shouts and,
The cars are detonating vans,
Mines hiding in sands,
Real snipers,
Not video games,
Hide in the high lands,
Waiting to kill.
Waiting to take life.
Everyday
We neglect what's happening far away.
Everyday
We scroll social posts
And laugh at the memes,
Lend hours to sports,
Stare at the mirror
Our jeans.
And I'm not saying its wrong.
That's just what it is.
He told me once,
When he came back from his second tour,
That he was so happy to eat a burger.
We talked about grilling,
Our trucks,
College sports and fishing.
And when he said,
"Yeah, one day we'll have to get both families out on the boat,"
I felt blessed,
That someone of his stature,
Someone so cool,
So...so good,
Wanted me to be part of his life.
On December 21, 2015,
I felt that I lost a friend.
But this is not a selfish poem,
And all my wife and I could think of was his family.
He had a boy,
He was four.
He was a four year old, warm and cute kid,
One who looked forward to my daughter
Walking into daycare every day to play.
On Halloween,
He dressed just like his dad,
And I would have too
If he was my pops,
I would have idolized his every move,
And I'm sure not only his family did,
But the precinct brothers, too;
This soldier was also a cop.
Fifteen years.
See it took the rebirth of an entity
We hadn't heard about in years,