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Lt. Calley
Written in 1971. In Alabama I was called the Poem Lady. I wish I had kept all the poems I’ve written. Written by request for use on a poster in Ozark, Alabama. This was read over several radio stations in Dothan, Alabama during the national uproar concerning Lt. Calley at Fort Rucker.
Lt. Calley,
mothers of this nation understand
You were there for America
and what we call our land,
That you did not want to fight,
nor did you want to be there.
Lt. Calley, mothers
of this nation surely care.
God loves each man and woman,
particularly a child.
Mothers of this nation
know this, we are quite riled.
Yes, we know God
cares for the enemy the same as you.
God knows you were under orders for the
red, white and blue!
Lt. Calley,
you are our son;
of you we are proud
We will shout your injustice
and will scream it long and loud,
For the mothers of this nation know
you tried to do well.
We know you were in the
center of the horrors of hell!
Rainey’s comments:
In hindsight, I would say mom’s credulity did not always server her well. Had protestors against the war crimes committed contacted her first, she would have given them the same attention and the poem would read differently. An indication of the neurodivergence that is our family legacy. But that Lt. Calley was the wrong person in the wrong place is not a stretch of the imagination.
"If you are asking why I did not stand up to them when I was given the orders, I will have to say that I was a second lieutenant getting orders from my commander and I followed them — foolishly, I guess," Calley said. (2009)
America, We Love You
In 1975, the United States was still torn over the Vietnam War. The Civil Rights Movement was fiercely divisive. Former President Richard Nixon had blighted the highest office in the nation. History repeats itself. It would posit that these words ring more loudly today than they did almost fifty years ago.
Words From the Heart
IT has been said that writers have a “watcher at the gate.” better known as writer’s block, that holds them back from writing. Perhaps, this is true of most writers, but this has not been true about me for many, many years.
Just Traveling
In 1975…
Please let the bad be used for something good.
Make me humble, help me do what you would.
May the hurts be used to ease another’s pain
And what I do be not for worldly gain.
Use me, God, for Your divine will to shine,
For what is right and Your love so sublime.
With Your strength and courage help me to stand
For things that will make this a better land.
Use me to help stop suffering and pain.
Help my hands to plant little seeds of grain
that will grow for others a brighter day
And give their path an easier way.
What I have or am comes from You above,
Let whatever I do show Your great love.
Lead me, guide me, and always hold my hand
For I'm just traveling through this land.
Please let the bad be used for something good.
Make me humble, help me do what You would.
I Must Walk On
IT has been said…
Tell me,
what can you do
when there is nothing
you can do?
And just how can you
soothe a terrible grief
that is so new?
Please tell me
how do you cry
when it hurts too much to cry?
How do you keep on living
when part of you wants to die?
How can you fill
the emptiness
of the years left ahead?
How can you laugh again
when one you loved so much is dead?
How can you thaw numbness,
so frozen,
start the tears to flow?
With hurt so deep
it cannot be felt
not even to let go.
The wind was howling,
and freezing rain
fell upon my brow.
My legs started walking,
walking,
I know not how.
There wind's bite was cold
but I walked, with no place to go.
How long did I walk?
How long was the night?
I do not know.
At daybreak I was back,
standing,
by the fresh grave.
Yes, l knew my loved one
would want me to be
strong and brave.
But friends were gone
and God was no longer at my side.
How do you face life anew
when part of you has died?
Just how do you cry?
Just how do you cry,
when you hurt too much
for tears to flow?
The hurt so deep it can't be felt,
not even to let go.
I screamed at the howling winds
and cried to the cold headstone,
There is no choice!
I have no choice!
I must walk on alone!
I Heard My Mother Cry
In 1975…
The front door had been pried open The big black trunk had been emptied About the floor papers did lay And I saw the look of horror Upon my Mother's face that day.
Mother, brothers, sisters and I We had just come from the funeral. Daddy had left to go above. Someone had broken into our house! Oh! Where was God with all His love?
The tears she could not shed The hurt, the pain, the grief I saw the trembling of her soul As Mother stared in disbelief, And from her soul I heard mother cry.
Why was Mother shaking so? (Oh, Daddy Please, please come back!) My Dad's papers that did not lie, gone! The titles to his land Were important, I knew not why.
I could not understand at all Being scared I began to cry Where was my Dad? Where did he go? “Oh God! Please, please bring Daddy back. Please bring him back! We need him so! “
The tears she could not shed The hurt, the pain, the grief I saw the trembling of her soul As Mother stared in disbelief, And from her soul I heard mother cry.
Then Mother looked at my three brothers. They were sobbing and merely lads. She picked up my sister just four. She stood there holding the baby For Mother could cry no more.
Then Mother's voice was saying, “We do not have any money, But our God will provide a way. We'll all have to be brave and strong." But I heard my Mother cry that day.
The tears she could not shed The hurt, the pain, the grief I saw the trembling of her soul As Mother stared in disbelief, And from her soul I heard mother cry.
I Hear My Mother Cry
In 1975…
The front door had been pried open The big black trunk had been emptied About the floor papers did lay And I saw the look of horror Upon my Mother's face that day.
Mother, brothers, sisters and I We had just come from the funeral. Daddy had left to go above. Someone had broken into our house! Oh! Where was God with all His love?
The tears she could not shed The hurt, the pain, the grief I saw the trembling of her soul As Mother stared in disbelief, And from her soul I heard mother cry.
Why was Mother shaking so? (Oh, Daddy Please, please come back!) My Dad's papers that did not lie, gone! The titles to his land Were important, I knew not why.
I could not understand at all Being scared I began to cry Where was my Dad? Where did he go? “Oh God! Please, please bring Daddy back. Please bring him back! We need him so! “
The tears she could not shed The hurt, the pain, the grief I saw the trembling of her soul As Mother stared in disbelief, And from her soul I heard mother cry.
Then Mother looked at my three brothers. They were sobbing and merely lads. She picked up my sister just four. She stood there holding the baby For Mother could cry no more.
Then Mother's voice was saying, “We do not have any money, But our God will provide a way. We'll all have to be brave and strong." But I heard my Mother cry that day.
The tears she could not shed The hurt, the pain, the grief I saw the trembling of her soul As Mother stared in disbelief, And from her soul I heard mother cry.