OLD SALT'S KEYBOARD

Freedom

I watched the flag pass by one day,

It fluttered in the breeze.


A young Marine saluted it,

And then he stood at ease.


I looked at him in uniform

So young, so tall, so proud,

With hair cut square and eyes alert

He'd stand out in any crowd.


I thought how many men like him

Had fallen through the years.

How many died on foreign soil

How many mothers' tears?


How many pilots' planes shot down?

How many died at sea

How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?

No, freedom isn't free.


I heard the sound of Taps one night,

When everything was still,

I listened to the bugler play

And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times

That Taps had meant "Amen,"


When a flag had draped a coffin.

Of a brother or a friend.


I thought of all the children,

Of the mothers and the wives,

Of fathers, sons and husbands

With interrupted lives.


I thought about a graveyard

At the bottom of the sea


Of unmarked graves in Arlington.

No, freedom isn't free.

Salute to the Working Man

I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream.

This morning the boss said times are hard.

You'll all have to sacrifice.

An extra day will suffice.

I'm sure your families will accept our pard’.


I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream.

This week they decreed, we need still more.

Everyone keeps their job, but we pay ten percent less.

I get to keep my job, it’s all right, I guess.

If my family is careful, we can avoid being poor.


I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream.

Tax time came, the government said, we are taking ten percent more.

So the kids don't get new shoes,

and we all hope for some good news.

We are still keeping the wolf from the door.


I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream.

When the company asked for more, I quit my job yesterday.

To help raise funds, I adopted a little pup.

Today, on the corner, the CEO dropped a ten in my cup.

My family will eat today.


I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream.

It was a front page headline, the company been downsized.

Its integrity long since compromised,

The CEO stopped by my corner today, wanted to know how I managed.

Without thinking, I replied my family learned to make do, and not get hanged.


I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream..

I started my new job today, got my own office, a secretary, and chauffeured limo.

My family's no longer in limbo.

The CEO hired me to use what I learned to make the company go.


I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream.

Now all the old employees are back, teaching management the hard facts,

All management switch places with a worker for a month, my first act.

Company profits have tripled since that became fact.


I toiled twelve hours today, in pursuit of the American dream.

The CEO fed his cat cream.

The beggar on the corner slept with a sweet dream.

The CEO finally retired today.

Along with the office, I adopted his cat today.

The beggars dream came true today.

SURVIVAL

Seas and mountains flourish, Men and beasts perish.

Life begets death. Life transcends death,

Surpasses all but death. Death is supreme even unto death.

Nature's key is not Life, but repetition.

Survival for Nature's foundation.


Postulates and Observations on Life

1. The pursuit of happiness is the root of all unhappiness.

2. The universe is easy to explain it is everything that is and everything that is not.

3. Life is simple living is complex. Life is the fact of being living requires a million decisions a second.

4. Learn to run naked in the forest and you will never take yourself too seriously.

5. Dare to be different. Being different provides the followers a choice and choice is always good.

6. Success is what you make it.

7. The faith of a mustard seed will see you through your troubles, as long as the faith is in the right engine, yourself.

8. Everything improves with age, especially your youth.

9. The harder you pursue something the harder it is to attain.

10. Life in the fast lane can only result in a crash.


TWENTY RULES TO SURE SUCCESS

1. Put teamwork over ego.

2. Nothing is impossible for the valiant heart.

3. Sitting on your ass and worrying doesn't get the job done.

4. Put the same care into tying your shoe as you do in building your house.

5. New doesn't mean better; everything must stand the test of time.

6. Nurture great thoughts for you will never go higher than you think.

7. Each movement of a single grain of wheat moves all the others in the basket.

8. The easiest solution is rarely best, the simplest always is.

9. Never stand pat; always reach beyond your ability.

10. Luck is the confluence of preparation and opportunity.

11. A 1000 written words can be delivered in an hour, 25 will take a week.

12. No chain is stronger than its weakest link, strengthen that link.

13. A journey of a 1000 miles begins with a single step.

14. Generate ideas but distribute the credit.

15. Nothing being done cannot be done better.

16. The pain of doing the job over lingers long after the joy of doing it quickly.

17. Nothing is impossible; some things just take a little longer.

18. Faith may move mountains, but ants will do it quicker.

19. Nothing gets done until it gets started.

20. Lend a helping hand, next time it might be you in the quicksand

Life

Life is but a fleeting moment

A brief candle flame in the passage of time.

Some flames burn bright with great portent

Others longer and more sublime.


Still life is but a small thing

Not an item to make great impact.

If this be so then why sing

the praises of living, an act

so trivial yet all there is?

Me thinks something is amiss.


Man's pretentious self sports ego

and immortality based on long ago

realizations that life is brief.

A non acceptance cried relief.

Thus was invented a creed of surreality

denying all else for immortality.


This belief placed man above all else

saying our flame just goes to another place.

Paradise, where else?

A world of ethereal space.

The Grasshopper

Butterflies flit from place to place,

gracing each briefly with their beauty,

then they pass on;

as though their life purpose was to

spread beauty across the land.


Bees hum and buzz about,

purposefully gathering nectar

and pollinating their hosts.

The bees function is to work

and keep the world going.


Dung beetles bustle about,

gleaning waste and rot

from over the face of the earth;

their place is with the janitors

who leave the world to be enjoyed.


But what is the purpose of the Grasshopper?

He leaps randomly about,

chewing grass and spitting "tobacco" juice.

Sometimes in the evenings,

when all is settled in, he breaks into song.


If you listen carefully, his song's a story,

sometimes sad, sometimes gay,

but always worth the attention.


Yes, of all these creatures,

my soul yearns to emulate the

carefree grasshopper!

THE DAWN

In youth, Dawn's sweet kiss energizes

my assault upon the day. At sunset

I rejoice at meeting the night, for soon

my lover, the Dawn shall re-energize me.


In middle age, I greet Dawn's kiss begrudgingly

and lurch forward to survive the day.

As night falls, I greet it gladly as an old, true friend,

to provide me rest, solace, and comfort before

my lover, the Dawn bids me rise again


In old age, I greet sweet Dawn with passion,

knowing her kiss signals a rescue from

another terrifying night. I lull through the day

resting for the coming battle. Sunset's

cold beauty strikes terror in my heart for

now I am alone. Will Dawn come again?

This is a trilogy of poems all revolving around the same situation, but viewed at different times. So while each poem begins the same, the endings reflect a changing state of mind. (oldsalt)

Duty

Far from friendly shores we sail.

Our country's might, we shall prevail.

As we remain in the war zone deep

striving hard our brother’s peace to keep.


We sacrifice OUR peace and liberty

to allow our fellow men some brief tranquility.

At home with friends and families,

while we sail the troubled seas.


Our ship remains immortal in our minds.

After the ordeals long over, only memory reminds

us of our reckless days as sailors all.

When many more have heard the call


and find themselves facing the nation's foes

for their families and fellows.

Not Yet

Far from friendly shores we sail.

Our country's might, we shall prevail.

As we remain in the war zone deep

striving hard our brothers peace to keep.


We sacrifice OUR peace and liberty

to allow our fellow men some brief tranquility.

At home with friends and families,

while we sail the troubled seas.


Our ship remains immortal in our minds.

After the ordeals long over, only memory reminds

us of our reckless days as sailors all.

When many more have heard the call


and find themselves facing the nation's foes

for their families and fellows.

Yes, even for the gnarled old vets,

But their time is not yet.

When the Circle Closes

Far from friendly shores, we sail.

Our country's might, we shall prevail.

As we remain in the war zone deep,

Striving hard our brothers' peace to keep.


We sacrifice our peace and liberty

To allow our fellow men some brief tranquility

At home with friends and families

While we sail the troubled seas.


Our ship remains immortal in our minds

When only memory reminds

Us of our reckless days as sailors all.

After the ordeal's long over, select is the recall.


When many more have answered the call,

Our sons and daughters among them all,

And find themselves facing the nations foes

For their families and fellows.


What will we remember then?

Good? Bad? Shame? Sin?

As we hover by the mailbox praying

Let this letter be from them, wishing,


It was us there, instead.

We, who sent them among the dead.

There in the war zone deep,

Striving hard all brothers' peace to keep.

Printed here with permission of the Copyright

by John A. Rogers,


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