Hello Folks,

In honor of Memorial Day I'm posting Honor And Glory. I wrote this back in 1974, a year after I finished my military service. Being an amateur military historian and appreciating the wonderful fantasies and myths of books like The Lord of the Rings, I took a stab at writing a poem depicting combat. It only took me about forty-five minutes to finish the first draft, but, it took many more years to tune it up with rewrites. I don't use the common terminology for units and ranks, but delve into fantasy to find generic terms. The main thing isn't the names but the experience of combat. After spending most of my teen age years, and after, reading histories of the American Civil War, I wanted to express something like that feel to this poem. And maybe find a universality that deals with an historical experience so common so as to transcend any particular place and time.

Honor And Glory  

Projectiles from large enemy thunder tubes
Fly overhead seeking some damage to do
Our War Group enters the camp left to us
With once bright uniforms covered with dust

The mounts are nervous, though protected by a rise
Shielded from the fire, as our columns arrive
Leadmen of Troups hear from Headmen of Bands
“There’s no falling out, the column here stands.”

Tired men fall from our march in the sun
Comrades support them, there’s no place to run
Leadmen tell Pack Foremen, “Inspect Warlings through.”
File Overlings follow to ensure hearts stay true

Warm water is taken from bottles half full
While we all listen to the thunder tube duel
The longer the waiting, the tenser the nerves
Feeling, on today’s action, the conflict may turn

Our Chiefman is here, to help form our line
Preparing the Bandline, he say’s we’ll do fine
We’re all made ready, with skirmishers ahead
The thought in our minds, who’ll live or be dead?

The Theyn of the War Group arrives with his staff
We’re put to attention to hear what he say’s
“Friends, Patriots, be proud on this morning,
Our freedom now lies in your honor and glory.”

“We fight to protect our families and homes.
This is our duty, the only way shown.
Our enemies enslave us, won’t let us be.
Fight for your freedom and destiny.”

Checking our arms, fire rods are readied
With long blades attached to make them more deadly
Our lines are dressed as the thunder tubes stop
Then we hear, along the rise, the words, “Over the top.”

Our line surges forward, scrambling over the rise
Each of us praying to somehow just stay alive
How many more races across torn up ground
How many more lifetimes to waste, as this now

Large thunder tubes take their toll once again
Churning up ground, and brave frightened men
Struggling along, covered with dirt and sand
Praying not to step where projectiles might land

My mind stops, suspended, as the inferno is seen
Trapped in this unreal, nightmare of a dream
What have we done? What was our crime?
Forced to pray for survival one more last time

Our foot band’s Headman, with banner unfurled
Like a man possessed in a alien world
Exhorting, cajoling, driving us all along
“To stop is dishonor, move forward, be strong.”

My mind clouds, past fights merge into one
All I know to live, is keep moving, and run
Looking back I see we’re far less than before
As projectile bursts engulf us once more

Littered around are broken mounts and men
I know I could never do this again
We near the trenches where our enemies lie
Their Headmen yelling, while their wounded cry

Our thinned line closes the space in-between
The enemies’ eyes are scared and mean
Their fire rod flashes quicken our pace
All locked together in this deadly long race

The banner held in our Headman’s strong hands
He plants in the trench, where others soon land
Our foot band enters, fighting eye to eye
The foe’s soon evicted, while many there die

The Headman screams, to gather a pursuit
We’re all brought together to see the fight through
One frightened man panics, crumbling to his knees
The rest start off, as the enemy flees

Then, a projectile burst knocks me to the ground
My mind’s filled with haze, motionless, but sound
Trapped in my body, as others pass by
I’m aware of life, and afraid to die

I see, in my haze, the Headman at bay
Prodding the straggler to get on his way
Yelling, exhorting, the same old story
“Defend your country, for honor, and glory.”

With thunder tube bursts again overhead
I feel, before long, that I’ll soon be dead
The scene with the Headman’s charge continues
Till a burst from a tube makes dust of their sinew

The smoke soon clears, only crumpled bodies remain
Uniforms are shredded, the torn banner hangs
Battle sounds relent, to stillness and calm
All the dust settles, and the conflict is gone

Then after a time the War Theyn appears
Seeing the banner brings him close to tears
Telling an aide of the Headman’s brave run
“Oh, to what cost such bravery is done.”

He gets two stretcher bearers to stop
To put the Headman’s remains there on top
Placing the banner, over the body, once brave
They carry it back to a fine hero’s grave
​
Unknown to them, though well I could see
The bodies having fallen so close to me
Taken was the straggler, in mistaken hurry
To fill in for the hero’s honor and glory

Jack T. Leyton
1974

Years ago, I happened to read this poem to the father of a friend of mine who was in the U.S. 29th Infantry Division that landed on Omaha Beach, Normandy on D-Day, 1944. He just kind of gave a look like a thousand yard stare and softly said, "Yeah, that's about it." Enough said. God bless and keep all our heroes, past, present and future. 

Equivalents
War Group = Division = 10,000 (+/-)
Bandline    = Brigade  = 3-5,000
Band         = Battalion = 500-1,000
Troup        = Company = 100-200
Pack         = Platoon    = 30-45
File           = Squad      = 8-15
Warling     = Soldier from anywhere at anytime  


Enough said. God bless all our heroes, past, present and future.

Cheers,
Jack
🖖✌️

Jax Blog #13
This next poem I wrote back in 2007. Around that time I was putting my book of poetry together at a coffee
shop near where I lived, while I was in between employment. I was spending long days compiling what I had 
and I found myself sometimes finishing scraps of partial poems from sometimes years before. "Jill" was one of those partial poems. Around that time I had met a girl who worked at the coffee house named Jill and it got my imagination moving enough to finish this poem. I mean, I'm Jack, shouldn't there be a Jill... and a hill?

As for the date 12/29/1972 at 06:00 am, PST. At the time I wrote the poem I was heavily into Astrology, and so with hard study and geometric logic and astro plotting of all the planets, and... and with a lot of help from an online Astrology site, I came to the conclusion that a person born on that day, at that time was my perfect match. A young 48 year old, now. Oh well. As luck would have it, I've never been able to meet anyone with those dates and times. 
I'm still waiting....   

Jill

Someday I'll find my Jill
Every Jack should have one
With all the standard thrills
Knows how to love and have fun

Is there a proper way?
Not some run of the mill
If classifieds would say
Right here, an awesome Jill

Who am I to complain?
Sure, some great catch I am
She might just think the same
Yep... better off with a Sam

An astrologer told me, "Son,
I've got the perfect girl.
Born, West Coast, December 29, 1972
... at 06:00 am."
I said, "Are you for real?"

I have such love to share
With passions full... and still
She's got to be somewhere?
That loving elusive Jill

Jack T. Leyton
2007

Yep... I'm still waiting....
I don't think I'll be holding my breath.

Stay Safe and Well
Cheers
🖖 ✌️

Hello Folks,

This poem is one of my few attempts at dry humor. 
I was attempting to give it a slight Monty Python style.
I hope I succeeded, but that judgement is up to you.

JUDGEMENT DAY WILL BE FRIDAY

This establishment will be open half day only. 
All employees wishing time off are asked to submit in writing
any requests no later than two days prior.
If possible an alternate to cover your position should be designated.

Pay will be straight time with the usual O/T bonus.
Of the three per cent cost of living differential.
All time off will be taken from vacation time, if available.
Otherwise, it will be counted as a non-pay day.

Paychecks, usually available at the end of shift on Friday,
due to a glitch in the computer system, will be mailed out instead.
We are confident in the assurances of the Post Office,
that service will continue in its normal efficient manner

Since it is expected to be a light volume day,
the dress code will be relaxed. All wishing to bring 
in a pot-luck lunch are heartily encouraged. . 

IN CASE OF EMERGENCIES
Questions and suggestions may be left on the executive voice mail.
Your input is important to us.
A response may be made in an appropriate and timely fashion.

If there is need for personal consultation, however
Management will Not be available.

Good Luck and Best Wishes.
Thank You for your continued support.   

Jack T. Leyton

2000


Lately, we seem to be having a few of these ourselves.
I hope we continue to get thru them in a successful manner.

Good Luck and Best Wishes
Thank you for your continued support.
Jack
🖖 ✌️

Hello Folks,

And Now He's Gone was written a short time after the death of my father. He died on Valentines Day on the weekend of my son's first birthday. It was a time of mixed emotion for my whole family. My Dad had been in the hospital for a week beforehand, in and out of a coma. All our relatives visited him during that time knowing it was "Good-bye." Still full of emotion, I wrote this poem.

And Now He's Gone

I feel the shadows in this house
There was once a presence here
It is, and may remain a permanent scent
For over thirty years my father lived here

And now he's gone

His clothes in the dresser folded just so
My Mother placed neatly, in loving expectation
I recall occasions, weekends, and visitations
Photos on the wall with his grand style

And now he's gone

Not all the crying, praying, and shouting
Cursing, wailing, or bawling can change a thing
The scent is there from years of wear
His spirit lies in the memories of our lives

And now he's gone

In the little hours, when the creaking walls are heard
And the half dreaming beckons to might have beens
The wishing dies away in tears of parting
Loves heavy heart remembers sorrows and joy

And now he's gone

Jack T. Leyton
1987

The house was where my brothers and I were raised and was full of the spirits of our family. It was sold after our Mother's passing, but I still drive by sometimes. As Thomas Wolfe said, "You can't go home again." As in most families, the memories stay rich and compelling. And now they're gone.

Cheers, 
Jack
🖖✌️

Hello Folks,

The poem Air Seas was written at a positive time in my life when I had the feeling that all was well for a positive future and to just go ahead and challenge it. Of course the future never stays that way for long. But it's always important to ride that crest as long as we can and remember what we're capable of and what we can handle. 

Air Seas

Sails set for the clouds
And places filled with stars
Flying high on the winds
That bring wonders from afar
Air seas my eyes see
Through the currents of the sky
Time is won to be done
And I'm glad that I'm alive
All's bright for the moment
On my new craft soaring high
Till time brings the morrow
And the moment I shall die
Soaring high through the clouds
As my new life is taken in hand
From it's dark and dismal depths
To the place I'll make my stand
Free flight in cool air
As I try my sails and wings
Flight now I've mastered
I have learned so many things
Far from my beginnings
Remembered distant past
My sails are unfurled
Strong tempered, made to last
Off then to adventures
I've not dreamed since long before
Time now to live them
To fill each moment more and more

Jack T. Leyton
1979

May all our adventures be positive and caring.
And may these trying times now just serve to 
temper our wings and sails for a brighter future.

Cheers, 
Jack
🖖✌️

Hello Folks,

Back in the late 1980's and early 1990's I was a member in good standing with the Conejo Valley Poetry Society. We had a lot of really great poets involved, with meetings every couple of weeks and a general poetry reading once a month in the coffee shop of the old Border's Book Store in the Thousand Oaks Mall. Much of my poetry was written with them. We'd get together to display our new writings for a class critique and hopefully improve our technique. I always thought there was value in that, even though I might not always agree with the comments.

A Taste Of Seduction is the result of my enjoyment of the writings of my friend David Alan Foster. His humor and alliterative style always made me smile, if not laugh. So I wrote this as a kind of tribute to Mr. Foster and his work. 

A Taste Of Seduction

Thought I'd go out
For a taste of seduction
With some passion on the side
Guilt and regret I'd forget
In that doggie bag, to go
On further reflection
Illicit love
Though on the menu
I can't quite digest
Other rich dishes 
Like half baked sex
And steamy affaires
Are out of my budget
Better I stay home
Than become some fast fool

Jack T. Leyton
1995


Short and simple. There'll be a few more along the way.
Take care. Stay safe and well.

Cheers, 
Jack
​🖖✌️

Hello Folks, 

​This was written in the dark days of the reign of George W. Bush. It hearkens back to the old days of the 1930's Great Depression. But, one must always adjust for inflation. I can remember those stark times quite keenly. Luckily for me I had just landed a delivery job that I was able to keep right up to my retirement. This is dedicated to the bad old days of just fill-in jobs until the good one arrived.

Buddy... Can I tap You for a Buck?

Asking for cash is a bummer
Panhandling off ramps sure sucks
I'm a guy like any other
Buddy... can I tap you for a buck

None thought my firm would go under
Then NAFTA competition struck
Didn't know they'd got our number
When suddenly our number was up
Buddy... can I tap you for a buck?

My dot com interest scurried
When Wall Street hit its flurry
My wife is awfully worried
We just lost the house
Maybe, next goes the spouse

Union wage, now offshore dollar a day
That corp'rate free trade muck
Trades all our freedoms away
All that Repo-publican bunk
Yet, they're never jailed for their junk

Wish I had a piece of Congress
Since my excess tax holds it up
Now, we've got all this war stress
Where were you when nine-eleven struck?
Buddy... can I tap you for a buck?

Jack T. Leyton
2003 

This poem was even more true after the crash of September 2008. Very painful.
It probably rings more true for the dark days of the reign of King Donald as well. 
Hopefully, now, we may be heading back to a "normal" existence. Maintain hope.
Never assume...!

Stay Safe and Well.
Cheers,
Jack
🖖 ✌️

Oh, Ziegfeld came about in 1978. I was working as a clerk in the storeroom at The Burbank Studios, at the time on the old Warner Bros. lot on Olive Ave. Across from the storeroom on Stage 16 they were shooting a musical biography of Florenz Ziegfeld, Jr called "Ziegfeld: The Man and His Women" starring Paul Shenar and a bevy of beauties including Samantha Eggar and Valerie Perrine. The made for TV movie was directed by Buzz Kulik, who was known for directing the CBS anthology series Playhouse 90 and many episodes of The Twilight Zone.

When they started shooting on Stage 16, I'd go over on my lunch break and watch the action. I knew a bit about Ziegfeld's career and of the artists who had been in his Ziegfeld Follies on Broadway in the 20's and 30's before movies became more profitable. Entertainers like Fanny Brice, Billie Burke, Eddie Cantor, Will Rogers, Helen Morgan, W.C. Fields and more. I wanted to see who they'd cast and when I found out the very popular, in 1978, Valerie Perrine was in it, I made sure to check it out. 

Along the way, while watching the filming, the idea of a song from 1974 reappeared in my head, and I put it to paper while on my breaks at work. I had a tune for it in mind and I figured I'd go over to the production and see if anyone would be interested. As it turned out, a production secretary told me that all the songs for the show were already set. They were period songs from his life and it was too late to add anything.
She wouldn't even listen or look at it.

This song was originally meant for an ingenue like Liza Minnelli, who was very popular at that time, having been successful in the musical film of Cabaret. I had started my preliminary sketch of the lyrics after seeing her in the movie in 1974  But since I didn't write music at that time, it just stayed in my head and was primed to take off for the Ziegfeld movie. I don't have a recording of it, but I hope you enjoy the lyrics. 

Oh, Ziegfeld

Grandma used to tell me, of Broadway long ago
How she got her chance to sing and dance
With the very best of shows, by singing...

Oh... Ziegfled, Flo Ziegfeld, remember me?
I am the one you saw in that show called "Gay Paree"
You promised me a big part in
Your show at the Winter Garden
But, winter's come, and I am still in the cold

Oh... Ziegfeld, Flo Ziegfeld, please look at me 
I've got the charm and talent you know they want to see
You promised me all Broadway
A show on the the Great White Way
But, shows have come and gone, and I'm still alone

Oh, how my mother'd be proud
No longer just one of the crowd
Seeing me walk on to the stage
To the audiences cheers and raves

Oh... Ziegfeld, Flo Ziegfeld, I'm here at last
I'm here to take my place in the ranks of your great cast
I'm here ready to swing in
When are we going to begin
Mr. Ziegfeld, let's get on with it
Mr. Ziegfeld, let's get on with it
Mr. Ziegfeld, let's get on with the show

Jack T. Leyton
1974

I'm hoping to record it someday with a young lady who can do it justice. But....
We'll see...
🖖✌️

Hello Folks, 

The idea for this lyric-poem came from having a cup of coffee one rainy evening in a small cafe 
on Reseda Blvd in Tarzana. As I watched the rain dribble down the window next to where I was 
sitting, it put me in a kind of trance. After I had jotted down my initial ideas on a few napkins, I 
realized I had to run to my car to get my notebook. In the process of working out the following 
flow of consciousness, I soon found that my lead line worked better as the chorus, which was 
the magic section that started it all off. I hope you enjoy the result. 

Memories of You

Friday night's stale glare
C.D.'s blast and blare
Cars whiz by like phantoms through the air

Not finding peace I swear
Not finding hope or care
Time flies... still, I see you everywhere

City lights, city sounds, city sights
Helpless, lost in memories of you
Misty night, sipping rounds, sitting tight
Trying to drown my memories of you

None were ever better lovers
Mates of the soul, best of pals
Never a thought of any others
What were the doubts not worked out

Sleepwalking moments of my lifeline
The up's and down's, in's and out's of chance
Couldn't dream you'd be stuck in my mind
In that unreal, unlikely haze, romance

City lights, city sounds, city sights
Helpless, lost in memories of you
Misty night, sipping rounds, sitting tight
Trying to drown my memories of you

Drizzled rain streaks the glass I'm viewing
Bright colors fade to shades of gray
Forgetting exactly what I'm doing
Lost in a lonely hearts parade 

Jack T. Leyton
2000

I've got a music demo of this floating around somewhere. 
When I figure out how to work this whole computer electronics
facebook system, I may post it as well. 

Stay Well, Be Safe
Jack
?✌️