Arlington Calls

I had a friend once. A veteran who suffers from PTSD. Two years ago, I received a panicky text from one of our mutual friends as I was walking through February ice and snow to buy groceries. The call was to tell me that after several sleepless, nightmare filled nights, my soldier had put on his dress blues and was on his way to Arlington Cemetery. Speaking in tongues mostly but making clear that he wanted to know, wanted to see his final resting place. The panicked email that followed this, from my friend’s daughter just about unhinged my heart and soul. What could I do from seven hundred and fifty miles away?

This is how I remember those moments…

Walking, taking jerky steps as if I were a drunk man’s puppet
My breath wouldn’t come to fill the collapsed balloons of my lungs
I moved, through the blinding sun, with my cellphone in hand
Couldn’t let go of it because you were in it, in the resistors and wires
Wires and connections like the synapses firing, rapid fire thoughts
Thoughts circulating and revolving, mimicking the revolution of tires
I moved. Forward through quicksand. To what? Where? Too far
To bend time. touch your mind. To try to stop the slash and burn
Connected to one thought – your hands on the steering wheel. Turn!
Clutching the proverbial straw. Adrenaline overdose and raw
Nothing else to grab on to. Alone on the phone with PTSD and you
Legs could no longer carry, dropping down into the snow
Weeping to finally hear that slow and wavering hello
Bend bandwidth
Take your finger off the damn trigger!
Beg Ma Bell
Heart stuttering, fingers freezing
Begging deities, pleading, pleading
Invoking my force of will. This is my will!
Force back his hell

11 April 2014

PTSD Lover


NaPoWriMo Blog Button

National Poetry Writing Month

See more at the link above.

Dear Heart

Deliver unto me, thou child’s tender, wondering heart
To protect and nurture such, is a loving Guardian’s art
I shall deliver to you old soldier, that selfsame piece of me
Feel it’s flutter in your trembling hands and you will see
Deeper ground and stoney, to root your soul unto
Empty body, aching soul, that craves the fullness that is you

~ kei
2 Mar 2014

Angel and Knight


Broken angel wandering alone

Wounded soldier journeying home

She seeks respite from her tormented dreams

He searches escape from his waking nightmares

Heart and Soul

I see you

Sanctuary in eyes of blue

Wander here my weary Knight

Journey to my door

Turn your key in my lock

Gently push me up against the wall

I will catch you if you tremble and fall

Kiss me like I am your very breath

Unbreak me Beautiful Stranger

I have sanctuary to offer you

Heart and soul

One from two

~ kei
11 March 2014

Stand Down

Once upon a time, I loved a soldier…

Every welcome home that I never had the chance to give
Thunders through my veins like a locomotive, runaway train
Countdown… the last twenty-four hours
Sleepwalking through routines, realities, responsibilities
Dealt with, done and now waiting
Untouched by the here and now anymore
A body that moves from room to room on puppet strings
Of adrenaline that is becoming dangerous in lack of release
A mirror that no longer holds my reflection, only my memory
Of his face, those dark eyes that said a hundred I love you’s
And a thousand goodbyes
And my body is a spring, stretched tight and humming
Like a telephone wire, downed in a storm and thrumming
Booted footsteps that sound my heartbeat on the walkway
Beloved outline that fills my door frame and my heart stops
Time stretches and bends with my state of mind, you know the one
The one that collides with the look of love, loss, weariness and… hope
Playing over his face, hiding in the shadows of his eyes
The hesitancy that roots his feet to floor, undoes my heart and soul
Fall into my arms, fall… Fall out over this space that separates us
Drop your bag on the floor, step into my arms, speak no words to me
I don’t need pretty words or soft caresses – take these off, take this off!
Leave all doubts at the door, hold my hand, come with me…
And I cannot wait, I fall and the stairs tattoo themselves into my spine
Give me back my love, I saved him here in my heart, my body, my soul
I take you in, I am your one true skin and I give yourself back again…

(c) KeiB 16 March 2012

Sex On The Stairs

Stars, Bars, Love and Wars

Remembrance Day is important to me. I am both proud and humbled to say that I am the first generation in my family that hasn’t served, fought or died for my country since long before Confederation.

My post this year, is dedicated to my friends who are still in service, to all of those family members and to one in particular. My Great Auntie Jean, who for me was “just” my Dad’s sweet, kind, grandmotherly aunt. Someone who I only saw on family trips back home. I recently found out that Auntie Jean was a 2nd Lieutenant during World War Two and was awarded the Commemorative Medal of the Confederation of Canada.

Thank you is never enough. It is what we have to give though, and so this is mine.

Jean Isabelle Thorpe

Jean Isabelle Thorpe


Stars, Bars, Love and Wars

Twinkle, twinkle little star
Shining bright but oh, so far

You must be my lucky star
When I wake at night, there you are

Stars that shine so very bright
The star on your chest says
You did this right

Silver stars, stars of gold
For gallant conduct
And tales never told

Bars of gold stacked on a field of blue shine
Feel my love in letters behind enemy lines

Bars with whiskey and with wine
Mark the passage of old Vet’s time

No holds barred, make that jump
Feel your blood race
When the bullets thump

Face the bars of an enemy cage
“No man left behind”
Earns a stripe to mark the stage

Love sets aside the worries and fears
Paints a smile on her face to hide the tears

With a look, all the love that she can convey
As she hands to her man, his green beret

~ kei