Let’s Roll

I awoke one Tuesday morning
And got up out of bed
I listened to some music
To help me clear my head

I brewed a pot of coffee
And into the shower I climbed
I sang along with the music
Now fresh in body and mind

I fixed myself some breakfast
And drank my coffee down
Then turned off the music
And headed towards the town

As was always my custom
When driving was my way
I listened to more music
On this bright and beautiful day

I arrived at my office
And sat down at my desk
I began work right away
And set about my task

“What do you think of today’s events?”
A coworker inquired
I paused my work and asked
“What events transpired?"

They looked at me in disbelief
They couldn’t help but stare
The news was everywhere
How could I not be aware?

Something big had happened
I could see it in their faces
Don’t know what they were thinking
Perhaps they wanted to trade places

Clearly stunned, he asked
“You really haven’t heard?”
“I haven’t listened to the news,
How would I have heard?”

As their shock subsided
They told me what had been
Two planes had hit the towers
My response, “Osama bin Laden”

Again they stared at me in wonder
Asked, “What was that you said?”
So I repeated, “Osama bin Laden”
And again my words fell dead

So I started to explain
The stories that I knew
From reading in the papers
About bin Laden and his crew

And when a third plane crashed
Now with the Pentagon in black
No longer was there any doubt
It was a suicide attack

As that day’s events unfolded
And they watched the burning flame
They sat and listened in disbelief
At how I knew his name

As the shock turned into fear
The real horror began
As Tower Two collapsed
And everybody ran

Minutes later, the fourth plane fell
In a field in Pennsylvania
We didn’t know about the heroes
Who gave their lives to save us

All we knew was it was down
And the skies held only clouds
Except for a few fighter jets
Which were startlingly loud

Almost half an hour later
The other tower fell
The sight was so surreal
I think it looked like hell

And as I watched, I shed some tears
For those who lost their lives
But even more for those still here
The children, husbands, and wives

I can’t explain how I knew
Or why they used such violence
But for three whole days, give or take
The skies held only silence

I tell you one thing that I know
Now this ten years hence
We’ll never understand it
Because it makes no sense

They think that they can change
Our ways by bringing terror here
You know something, they’re right
Except they cannot make us fear

So on this day, and each day after
Dwell not upon the toll
And do not fear, but think instead
Of these final words, “Let’s Roll”

-- Geoff Strickler
-- September 11, 2011

Poem: A Birthday Wish

You were the most beautiful vision I’d ever seen.
Brilliant and clever, you were everyone’s dream.
You built yourself up, with millions in tow.
An inspiring example for everyone to follow.

You were a teacher, a leader, and a guide.
You paved the way and asked others to ride.
You called for a future that no one could see
You were so inspiring and everyone believed.

But lately, it seems, you’ve been out of touch.
You stopped creating, you’re not doing much.
For some time now you’ve lived on your legacy
Pardon my bluntness, but you’ve gotten lazy

You’ve gotten fat, you’re not doing enough
You just sit around and argue with yourself.
You change your direction all of the time
It seems you just can’t make up your mind.

Maybe you’ve forgotten where you were going?
You look like you’re lost, and ill winds are blowing.
Did you lose sight of the dream you helped create?
I think you’ve forgotten just what made you great.

You no longer lead, you just stand here waiting
You no longer inspire, and the dream is fading
Maybe, perhaps, your time has come and gone.
But remember that dream? It’s not yours alone.

It’s not too late, you can still change your ways.
But if you want to succeed, start changing today.
Get started right now, you can still lead the race
But you have to step up and start setting the pace.

Return to your values. Let your light shine again.
For the dream still lives on in the hearts of some men.
America, I miss you. So, for your birthday and mine,
Please reclaim your lead, before you run out of time.

Declare your independence. Don’t give up the fight.
Uphold the Constitution, and stand up for your rights.
Be the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
We The People run the show, make our rulers obey.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- July 1, 2011

Poem: The Mavericks

The Mavericks
With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe

Once upon a midnight weary, the Mavs did beat the Lakers clearly
Over many a foul and furious shots within the Center's core.
While I shouted, nearly rasping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one loudly gasping, tapping on the wooden floor.
"Tis the Lakers," I uttered, "gasping up and down the floor -
Only them, and nothing more."

Ah, clearly I can say, twas in the joyous month of May
That each three pointer the Mavs did make, left no mark upon the wooden floor.
Eagerly I await tomorrow; - tickets I had sought to borrow
To relieve the past of sorrow - sorrow for the losses that came before
For the rare and jubilant reason to avenge the losses that came before
Forgotten now for evermore.

And the sad but certain unravelling of each yellow and purple jersey
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic feelings never felt before
So that now, to the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“Tis some visitors, getting swept upon our Center floor –
Some Laker visitors, getting clearly swept upon our home floor.
This it is, and nothing more.”

Presently my team grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your indulgence I implore;
But the fact is I was clapping, as so weakly you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping upon our wooden floor,
That scarce was sure I heard you” – here we opened wide the score.
Lakers there, and then no more.

Deep into that score peering, long I stood there clapping, cheering,
Seeing, dreaming dreams no fan had ever dared to dream before.
But the shouting was unbroken, and the Lakers were but tokens,
And the only word there spoken was a shouted, “Gone in four!”
This I shouted, and the walls echoed back “Gone in four!”
Merely this, and nothing more.

[there may be more to come]

-- Geoff Strickler
-- May 4-8, 2011

Poem: Divisionist History

Divisionist History

We fight for many reasons,
We fight for what we believe.
We’re right, they’re wrong,
And they’re trying to deceive.

We start a fight, or defend ourselves,
In battles won or lost.
War rages on forever,
And no one knows the cost.

We teach “divide and conquer”,
Study tactics and strategy.
And each day we keep on killing,
Because they’re not like me.

We keep building better weapons,
To kill Them more efficiently.
Why should we even care a bit,
They are the enemy.

Millions die and billions suffer.
The atrocities abound.
A dozen here, thousands there,
We’re indifferent to the sound.

To some “it” never happened.
Others argue that “it” did.
Some say “it” might have happened,
But not the way “They” said.

Each side tells their story,
Convinced that what they say is true.
But the victors always get to say,
And write history anew.

We’ll never truly know the reasons,
Only what the victors say,
Cause They’re the ones who write the books.
It doesn’t matter anyway.

One day I hope we’ll stop the madness,
It’s causing quite a fright.
But that doesn’t really seem to matter,
When we go to bed at night.

We’re no specific country,
Nation, state, or faith.
Nor race, nor creed, nor color,
We are the human race.

We can’t ever know the reasons.
We can’t begin to count the cost.
We can’t even know the truth.
We can only mourn the loss.

But any way you view it,
I hope we all can see.
Our righteousness perpetuates
Our divisionist history.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- March 31, 2007

Poem: A Time to Reflect

A Time To Reflect

A time for hope, yet a time of sadness
The death of an enemy, the killing of a man
Good news for the world, a tragedy of his own creation
It’s good he’s gone, yet thousands more replace him

The world rejoices, his followers plot revenge
No one is neutral, and the anger begins.
We did what we must, but will it be enough
To end the differences, for which we’ve suffered much.

So celebrate his absence, and do not mourn his death
But be saddened that it came to this, he’s taken his last breath
We’re the ones who killed him, it’s what we had to do.
No matter how you view it, the price will come from you.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- May 2, 2011

If you liked this poem, you may also like:
Divisionist History

Poem: Autumn Leaves

This is the first poem I ever wrote. Wrote it for an assignment in 4th grade. This is from memory, so it might not be word for word what I wrote in 4th grade. It's short and simple, but I still think it's worth including with my poetry.

Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves come falling down
Slowly falling through the air
Soon at last they reach the ground
Now they only sit there.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- circa 1975

Poem: The Gap

The Gap

I set my sights high. It seems like hard work.
I succeed. I’m excited. Life is good.
I fail. I’m discouraged. Life is no fun.

I set my sights low. It’s easy for a while.
I succeed. I’m unfulfilled. Life is no fun.
I fail. I’m upset. Life is a pain.

I set my sights high, but life seems too busy.
I set my sights low, but life seems too boring.
Either way, I will complain.

Whether I aim high or aim low
Life’s not simple or easy
But only one way brings joy.

I’m beginning to see there’s always a gap
Between my goals and my actions.
I get to choose which gap I’ll take

But whichever I choose,
From moment to moment,
Life occurs in the gap.

A small gap is easy, but leads to despair.
A large gap demands effort, but it gives life.
Which gap do you choose?


-- Geoff Strickler
-- March 9, 2007

Poem: My Father's Son

My Father’s Son

He gave me his voice, but I make it my own.
He gave me his gifts, but I make them mine.
He gave me his values, but I live them my way.
He gave me his looks, but I am not him.

He gave me his trust, which I sometimes abused.
He gave me his love, when I was confused.
He gave me his strength, taught me to be bold.
He gave me his time, a treasure untold.

He gave me his money, so that I could learn.
He gave me his wisdom, so that I could earn.
He gave me his pride, so that I could be proud.
He gave me his life, so I could live mine.

A greater gift no one can give,
Than to give all you have,
So another can live.
I am my father’s son.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- Dec 12, 2006

Poem: A Free Man

A Free Man

Touch me, I feel.
Hurt me, I cry.
Cut me, I bleed.
Reject me, I ache.
My heart breaks.

Move me, I weep.
Kiss me, I melt.
Embrace me, I warm.
Love me, I love.
We become one.

I want you to know my success, not my failure.
I want you to see my goodness, not my ugliness.
I want you to know my skill, not my limitation.
I want you to see my strength, not my weakness.
I want you to think I am perfect. I am not.

I am tough.
I am fragile.
I am strong.
I am breakable.
I am human.

Though I may portray otherwise,
I am but a man.
This is the real me.
In embracing it, I am free.
I am free.


-- Geoff Strickler
-- Dec 12, 2006

Poem: Words Want to Be Read.

(a short poem, intended to be sung, perhaps the refrain of a song not yet written)

Words
Want to be read
Dream to be spoken
Free them from the page
Bring them to life
Let them take flight
They cannot survive in your cage

-- Geoff Strickler
-- Oct 30, 2010

Poem: As Glaciers Melt

As Glaciers Melt

As days roll by
And seasons go
As trees grow high
The wind still blows

As moons shall rise
And suns shall set
As waves shall break
The tide moves yet.

As volcanos erupt
And mountains grow
As cyclones spin
The river still flows

As snow shall fall
And storms shall rain
As lakes go dry
The oceans remain

As glaciers melt
And mountains erode
As times shall change
The love still grows.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- Nov 14, 2010