How Many Times Must I Go

By Norman Michael Nelson

How many times must I go until you see my walk is slow.

It’s not the movement of my legs, its my mind that needs the time, I beg.

 

You have quit on this war and you’re deaf to a nation’s fears.

A nation that has waited for years.

 

This war will not end as long as you keep

 treating our enemies as our friends.

 

My buddies and I lie here in this ditch.

Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall, we never bitched at all.

 

Instead of help like tanks and planes.

You threw on our lap a shooting policy that reads like crap.

 

There’s nothing left except bad memories and good friends.

At least they’ll be here if I feel the end.

 

We do not see what has happened yet.

But we feel the bad like all good soldiers have.

 

It’s all around and the only comfort is this hole in the ground.

The earth, we caress its bosom, and pray we only see the top.

But even as I lay here the shooting never stop.

Your Words

By Norman Mike Nelson

There are only words that hold me in place.

Not the sound of your voice or the glow of your face.

You see only words help us carry on

when someone special is gone.

Words are memories, good ones I say.

They give you direction and help us walk away.

Some people forget quickly and some never will.

Why? Who knows because it’s better than a pill? 

Think of the nights when you can’t sleep

And that quick prayer to God that runs so deep. 

We know God can’t help us all the time,

But there’s comfort in those words that don’t seem to rhyme. 

Like the “Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want,

He leadeth me beside the still water.”

It is at this point that the words hold you.

Not to a place, nor a time, nor a space. 

They hold you because words last forever.

They come from love, from your heart, and from the Lord above.

What Drives Men Crazy books will be arriving next week.  I am selling for $10 a pieces from this first batch of books.  They will be first come, first serve basis. Please let me know if you would like to purchase.  Please let me know the quantity and your address.  Check can be sent to 15422W Hospital Road, Hayward, WI, 54843. Reviews and comments will be much appreciated.

Boots in the Ground 2

Mirror

By Mike Nelson

Did you ever look back

at the people you knew,

the ones that you loved and

the others you walked through.

No, don’t look down,

It’s too late.

The food’s all gone,

Just scraps on your plate.

You let the good ones go

and kept all the crap.

As a matter of fact

you’re really good at that.

Right now you’re feeling low

with no place to turn.

Did you think we’d forgive you

after all of those burns.

Good friends and other people

forgive and forget

But as far as you’re concerned,

It ain’t happening yet.

So look in the mirror

And tell me what you see.

Are you happy?

Damn you, It’s me.

Fields of Love

By Mike Nelson

As I walk through the fields of love,

I find sometimes love was not kind to me

or was I looking at the wrong flowers?

No, it was the right flower.

But I was young and so was she.

Real pretty flowers never see their beauty.

They are strictly there to be smelled,

Tasted, and enjoyed for their beauty only.

 Never Picked!

So once you pick your flower,

Her beauty fades quickly

and so does whatever she saw in you.

They only retain their beauty

if you can make friends with them

and if you both find a common link.

You’ll then find all the beauty you seek

and all love will follow.

At this point other things happen.

Your love for this precious flower will grow

as will her love for you.

It will grow into a lifetime of happiness.

But if you ignore or mistreat your flower

its love will die

because it cannot understand your change.

Maybe you left your field of flowers

and returned thinking just by returning

the flower’s beauty and love will still

be there for you, but it can’t.

It’s now turned into a crippled, tangled mess

that even your returning tons of love

and attention can’t change.

But no, it is gone.

Like all love once abandoned,

it either dies or moves on.

And then the process is hard for both.

It must be pulled up by its roots and moved.

Roots attached to an ex-lover, husband or friend.

There may be children to move also.

And all these roots now lay ragged and exposed

to whatever finds them.

Remember most of the time

true love lost never returns.

The garden now lies abandoned because

somehow the roots of other flowers

and plants were entwined and they also died.

Now as you look around,

all that remains is not pretty anymore.

That great and wonderful smell that once

filled all your senses is gone.

Their beauty is gone.

Your hate is immense

So you run through your garden, Mad!

Ripping out all that is left with any beauty.

Now exhausted, you sit down

and hold your beautiful flower in your hands.

And it is at this point in your life,

you finally realize how fragile

real love and beauty are

and how deep the roots of love grow.

Once removed through neglect,

abuse or abandonment; all is lost.

Your garden dies along with

a large piece of your heart.

Water your flower daily with care.

Remember this garden belongs to you

and this beautiful field of flowers

you love is needed

and worse demands your love.

Are you the right person

For this field of flowers?

Or maybe your only fault was in picking

The wrong flower.

Proof of Life

By Mike Nelson

It’s been a long time

since the telephone rang.

But only a mother or father would

 understand that certain twang.

It never rings in the midday

 or any other time convenient to say.

No, it’s late at night or in the early morn.

and whenever it rings, it’s never the norm.

It’s a son or daughter calling from Iraq

and I always worry who’s got their back.

You see the war has changed

and the safe places are gone.

It’s just a phone, a loved one’s voice

 and a prayer to hang on.

The waiting is left to a husband or wife,

a mother or father who need Proof of life.