A Boondockers' Poetic Group Collaboration

We Carried Them

 to where they died
 we carried them
 and it was not
 home
 where they died
 yet we carried them
 and something within  us died
 with them
 as we carried them
 so far from home.......as they died
  
 and I became their eyes
 as they died
 staring away from here to
 somewhere
 and remembering
 the perfect happiness
 of breath
 and laughter
  
 time on my side
  
 yet all fades into gone
 when death prevails
  
 death laughing
 his fist in my
 face.

                      --Cal

 And I then said...
 Death laughing...
 his fist in my face
 but always knowing
 this is my territory...
 he may invade if he dares
 knowing I fear him not
 I have seen his works
 Death, you are no artist
 I stand my ground
 I am not alone
 For I see with artists eyes
 through the sights of many...

                                             --Faye

 ...and yet
their yesterdays carry US!
ever into today's liberty
tomorrow's freedom

burden borne then...
..and now

we're not heavy...

are we brothers?


                 --Randy

  Are we NOT brothers?
A question not asked
For the penalties of the answer too painful
Shall we do less for a brother than a friend?

A tear drops to the ground
A hero never seen again
A brother lost to the silence
As we carry him limp to a safe place

Knowing he is dead
But acknowledging it never
A brother never forgets
A brother is never too heavy. 

                              --Poppa David

Brothers carried gently. . .
carried by their brothers
with eyes forever seeing
through each other's

carried from that place,
with fist raised, tricking death. . .

carried home. . .
for their brothers ...for us 

that we may know who they carried
as they died.

Be warmed by that last breath;
Remember as we see
who they carry... each face
as it was and remains
through brother's eyes

                      --EasyEcho

We carry them in our
hearts, souls, minds;
physically buried, but
never left behind.
Remembered, cherished
until our own earthly end.
Comrades, brothers,
companions, friends.
Death's taunting fist
flouted and denied;
for existence continues...
their souls have not died.

                 --Woody

Lou J. Klaiber (Cal)

Faye Sizemore  (Faye)

Randy Richmond (Randy)

David R. Alexander  (Poppa David)

Thurman P. Woodfork  (Woody) 

Lucille Biscaglio  (Easy Echo)

 © November 2002

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