R B Seals
R B Seals Poems
- Fragment Of War (Veterans Day) In neighboring park, beneath ...
- Between Heaven And Earth Too soon, your image fades from ...
- The Other Side Of Dawn I always think of her no matter time ...
- Free Will Stifled is the word that comes to mind, To be ...
- In The Span Of Life Somewhere beneath the white-crested ...
- Force Of Nature Cold...efficient...disquieting... Humanity's...
- Beloved Without hesitation, she throws a Glance your way and...
A resident of central Delaware, the author formerly served as an IT system administrator for county government. 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. more »
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Quotationsmore quotations »
''Wisdom stands whereWords Left Unsaid, copyright 2002
On rightful place
Where failure stood.''
''Lodged within the boundary of my soul,Words Left Unsaid, copyright 2002
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 onWords Left Unsaid, copyright 2002
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,Words Left Unsaid, copyright 2002
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 pureWords Left Unsaid, copyright 2002
Through the good times and the bad,
The joyful and the sad,
Your love (and hers) will endure.''
Comments about 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.
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.