Sharing Poems

Discussion in 'The VMBB Poets' started by Guest, Mar 1, 2003.

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    Posts: 210
    (6/4/01 7:41:04 am)
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    By Bob Harrison
    July 22, 1997

    He was old and worn and bit forlorn as he ambled through the park,
    He spoke to me and I could see that his eyes had lost their spark.
    His gait was slow and his voice was low as he asked to sit with me,
    And I answered him with a friendly grin, "The sittin' here is free."

    He gave a smile and we talked a while and his voice was rather weak,
    But his mind was strong and it wasn't long till he began to speak
    Of yesteryears and I saw the tears as the mem'ries flooded through
    For he spoke of times and other climes as old men often do.

    He smiled at me and I could see as he glanced at my Navy blues
    That he'd earned his keep on the briny deep and paid his share of dues.
    I asked if he would share with me some mem'ries from his career,
    He said he might if the price was right, and the price was a can of beer!

    "I've shipped on subs and oily tubs, on battleships and cruisers,
    Ten thousand mates and I can state not one of them was losers.
    LST's on foreign seas, from Solomons to Leyte,
    You name it, lad, I've been there, from Alaska down to Haiti."

    "Liberty ships of paper clips, balsa wood and glue,
    I saw one break apart one time and lose her gallant crew.
    Marine Corps I took ashore on Tarawa and Truk."
    Oh what the Hell, for quite a spell, I've had my share of luck."

    "One thing more," he said, "before I move along,
    There ain't no air that's quite as fair as the pipe of the boatswain's song.
    And the place to be is on the sea riding a fair sea swell,
    With mates like you in Navy blue who'll follow you straight through Hell."

    "So here's to you and your Navy crew who take our ships to sea,
    You've fought and died and never cried throughout our history.
    You're heroes all and ten feet tall and your spirits never lag,
    You're the nation's best and you never rest in defense of our country's flag!

    He rose to leave and I believe that he seemed to move much faster,
    His eyes agleam like a laser beam and his skin was alabaster,
    He glowed at first then soon dispersed in a cloud of misty cotton,
    A dream at most, perhaps a ghost, but not to be forgotten

    This poem was sent to members of the MRFA by Larry Dunn.

    Stan Lambert
    St. Clair Shores, Michigan

    V.I.P. Member
    Posts: 197
    (6/4/01 11:12:05 am)
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    Great poem, Stan! Thanks for sharing it.


    Senior Chief Moderator II
    Posts: 661
    (6/4/01 3:16:08 pm)
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    Re: Sharing Poems
    Larry Dunn is a most talented man. Ya Stan, thanks for sharing that!!

    Posts: 779
    (6/4/01 4:03:41 pm)
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    Remember reading another one of his works someplace and enjoyed that one also. Good job Stan.
    ...and two hard boiled eggs.

    Posts: 219
    (6/5/01 8:27:03 am)
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    Another one about sailors by Larry Dunn.

    Stan Lambert
    St. Clair Shores, Michigan


    Old sailors sit and chew the fat
    'bout how things used to be
    of the things they've seen
    and places they've been
    When they ventured out to sea.

    They remember friends from long ago
    and the times they had back then
    of the money they've spilled
    and the beer they've swilled
    In their days as sailing men.

    Their lives are lived in days gone by
    with thoughts that forever last
    of cracker-jack hats
    and bell-bottom blues
    and the good times in their past.

    They recall long nights with a moon so bright
    far out on a lonely sea
    and the thoughts they had
    as youthful lads
    When their lives were unbridled and free.

    They know so well how their hearts would swell
    when the flag fluttered proud and free
    and the stars and the stripes
    made such beautiful sights
    as they plowed through an angry sea.

    They talk of the bread ole' cookie would bake
    and the shrill of the boatsun's pipe
    and how the salt spray fell
    like sparks out of hell
    when a storm struck in the night.

    They remember mates already gone
    who forever hold a spot
    In the stories of old
    when sailors were bold
    and lubbers were a pitiful lot.

    They rode their ships through many a storm
    when the sea was showing its might
    And the mighty waves
    might be digging their graves
    as they sailed on through the night.

    They speak of nights in a bawdy house
    somewhere on a foreign shore
    and the beer they'd down
    as they gathered around
    cracking jokes with a busty whore.

    Their sailing days are gone away
    never more will they cross the brow
    But they have no regrets
    for they know they've been blessed
    'cause they honored their sacred vow.

    Their numbers grow less with each passing day
    as their chits in this life are called in
    But they've nothing to lose
    for they've all paid their dues
    and they'll sail with their shipmates again.

    I've heard them say before getting underway
    that there's still some sailin' to do
    and they'll exclaim with a grin
    that their ship has come in
    and the Lord is commanding the crew.

    Larry Dunn
    June 4, 2001

    An Thoi/LST838 68-69
    NAVADVGRP 72-73

    Posts: 387
    (6/5/01 10:33:12 am)
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    Very Nice Stan, Thank You for sharing those with us.

    Posts: 794
    (6/5/01 5:02:52 pm)
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    He has published hasn't he Stan?

    He's very good and easy to follow.
    ...and two hard boiled eggs.

    Posts: 224
    (6/6/01 7:34:59 am)
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    As far as I know, Larry Dunn has not published anything to date. He does recommend a book named "Chicken Soup for the Veteran's Soul" which has only recently become available at It has about 400 pages with beaucoup individual stories.

    Here's another poem Larry wrote about the Sailors of the Brown Water Navy.

    Stan Lambert
    St. Clair Shores, Michigan

    We pulled them from the prime of life
    To deal with death and battle strife
    To fight a war that never should have been.
    Just brave young men from yesterday
    Who rode their boats into harm's way
    To fight a war we wouldn't let them win.

    These strong, young men all gave their best
    Up muddy rivers filled with death
    To fight a war that never should have been.
    They paid their dues with blood and sweat
    With sights and sounds they can't forget
    To fight a war we wouldn't let them win.

    They heard the taunts when they came home
    Tired and wounded and all alone
    From fighting a war that never should have been.
    They wondered where the glory lay
    For the horrible price they had to pay
    To survive a war we wouldn't let them win.

    The deeds they've done are history
    Their war lives on in infamy
    A war they fought that never should have been.
    These brave, young men from yesterday
    Are now old men with hair of gray
    Who fought a war we wouldn't let them win.

    They think about those left behind
    Whose status still is undefined
    From fighting a war that never should have been.
    They think of all the friends they lost
    And just how much their service cost
    To fight a war we wouldn't let them win.

    They remember the days when they all stood tall
    As they honor their friends who are on The Wall
    Dead from a war that never should have been.
    Their knowing eyes reflect the pain
    Of living the war all over again
    A war they know we wouldn't let them win.


    ©Larry L. Dunn June 5, 2001