R B Seals

R B Seals Poems

In neighboring park, beneath the
sunlit, pink and white canopy
of the blossoming cherry trees
an older man bent and gray,

Look ever forward, ever onward,
Strive to focus beyond the
Limitations of the immediate.
Seek out to experience the

Beyond sand and shore,
vast waters of a mighty sea
spread out before Him;
its waves— spirited, steadfast,

I always think of her no matter time of day
No matter the influences that come my way,
Though parted by distance and trials of day
She is with me no matter come what may.

Don’t exactly know
When I fell from grace,
Nor—too—the wedding vows
That couldn’t keep pace;

In pensive, anxious moments,
Across lips strained and silent,
I whisper the sweet syllables
Of her name and once more


Electric showpiece in sequin cage,
Styled for show and all the rage.
Promoters little care how you feel
Or the life you lead that isn't real.

Fly easy into the mourning sun,
Amidst the towering blue as one;
Fly with heaven's blessing in hand,
Onward high to destination planned;

Placid lady—
Sitting on white-fringed bed;
Eyes, looking lost and vacant,
Often staring straight ahead.

Surreptitiously, I
Gaze upon your face
Set in deep repose,
Offering scant clues of

Enjoyed a magic moment
As proud member of humanity,
Caught up in illusion of superiority
When intent seemed noble, just and clear

Stifled is the word that comes to mind,
To be bound by its grip is reprehensible.
Caught up, slowed down, feeling consumed
By all its emotionally draining power, I

Once again comes
Tradition's time of year
As families, blood 'n blend,
Scattered far and near,

Too soon, your image
fades from view and you
are gone and I am sadly
overcome, consumed by

Humanity's brutal misdeeds
lay hidden, obscured under
rolling, grassy landscapes


Bleak becomes the moment
that ventures too far, too
wide, too daunting…becoming
incomplete as the soothing,

Endless...the repetition
of servitude, its oppressive
routine crushing, suffocating,

For many: the faceless, the silent,
The often invisible in society; souls
Cast to wind, carried by lonely existence;
Embittered, brought low by triadic foes—

For the countless many, the
Often dejected and rejected
—Society's invisible elements—
History fails to witness, to remember

Guess it's safe to say
You won't be by today.
Once, eager glances at the door
But now, as many times before,

R B Seals Biography

The author is currently a resident of central Delaware. When not writing or indulging his passion for flight or scuba diving, he pursued his goal of continuing education graduating from the Community College of the Air Force, Wesley College and Wilmington University, earning a Master’s degree in education. A native of Westerville, Ohio, he served twenty-four years in the United States Air Force—initially in the field of aircraft maintenance, then later as an air traffic controller for nineteen years.)

The Best Poem Of R B Seals

Fragment Of War (Veterans Day)

In neighboring park, beneath the
sunlit, pink and white canopy
of the blossoming cherry trees
an older man bent and gray,
clothed in everyday attire, sits
alone, poised in reflective stance,
blending nondescript, sometimes
invisible on weathered, teal-colored
bench, in filtered light of midday.

Seldom noticed,
he reaches down to
embrace his distal thigh.
Gently, he kneads the crafted,
circular mound that once
joined to knee and leg—
the ever-present reminder
of a war long-ago fought and
the nightmares that never die.

Sometimes, he can still see it:
the appendage, as it was
—strong, essential, vital—
before the perversity of combat and
consequent IVs, clamps and sutures.
Indeed, a strong reminder of before:
before the call to duty and the oath,
before the glory and the sacrifice
—deadly, numbing...senseless—
before realities of an unforeseen
outcome and uncertain future.

Despite the many years,
the remnant still toys with him
playing phantom games, and for brief
moments, the limb seems to return—
a cold and callous reminder of a former
self abruptly snatched from his person,
featured in Technicolor flashbacks—
reruns that smolder, ignite and burn.

Close by, crutches standby as helpful,
trustworthy and dedicated servants
—strong, ready, supportive—
and like the warrior they serve, a
little less kept, a little more worn out.
Like their keeper, the years of wear
and tear, reflect on a life "lived"
moving toward growing decline and
obscurity, unlike the tides of war no
chance to evade, flank, or turnabout.

Passersby come and go,
paying little notice the flawed,
faceless form bending on bench:
another nameless, homeless person
—destitute, derelict...disgusting—
presumed looking for handouts,
judged, "another burden on society."
No matter the many who gave up
their youth, goals and dreams to
preserve a nation's way of life;
no matter the sacrifices of those
who would lose a limb, a life, or
a love preserving freedoms others
not in step would take for granted...
Heck, just another burden on society!

R B Seals Comments

R B Seals Quotes

Wisdom stands where Wisdom should, On rightful place Where failure stood.

Lodged within the boundary of my soul, The beast lies in wait- Be it expressed as jealousy, envy or hate- Ready to rear and take control.

For in their eyes, an oddment on a shelf is all he would ever be. A trifle figure, left to dust, bearing an emptiness they could never see.

O hallowed soldier, bent and sore, The trumpet sounds from a hostile shore, Echoing memories relived many times before Of the glory, the plunder and the human gore.

If your feelings for her be pure Through the good times and the bad, The joyful and the sad, Your love (and hers) will endure.

Of the many 'friends' I've known, Less than few have shown The loyalty that you give to me, Despite the failings you often see.

Surely our manner must disturb and frighten you; and so it should, for we are impudent, all-powerful and godlike.

Age becomes an unwanted friend: Always to cajole, never to offend.

Immeasurable, is the distance of loss that never quits, never ends.

Varied responses to any situation can often be viewed as curious; but when assessed objectively, are often understandable.

Through the graphic lens of loss comes the deepest understanding, appreciation, and anguish of loves truly cherished, held sacred, and forever unrequiting.

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