The Poems
byWilliam E. Ames
The Sleeping Giant
I have never been to the World Trade Center,
Never climbed to the top.
But I have seen the twin towers, and the Pentagon too.
I have stood in their shadows, a sense of their glory.
They were always there, and would be;
They were mountains I had not climbed.
I have climbed all of the mountains I can see from my home,
And others I cannot.
They have all brought comfort, solace,
And even peace to this battered mind.
I always knew they would be there, always.
Now the Trade Centers are gone,
And what am I now, that I was then?
What can we do who have never known war?
Protector
My eyes are sore
From so much crying.
No mail today, the airports are all closed.
Going about my routine (custom or change inures)
I shopped for food. Not that I was hungry.
Walking along the pavement I saw God's wonder—
A storm was coming, and the crimson sun
Shone through the thunderhead
Illuminating the sky in pure light.
More than 30 years of sunsets, but
This was something new.
Deep purple, amber and bright orange skies
Draped with hard edged, silver and gold-lined cumulus
And the blue open sky, uncluttered by the things of man.
I wanted to touch the face of God,
Free from the surly bonds of earth.
Hard-beating within my chest, I could feel my heart,
My lungs crying out for air, yet filled with peace.
I could feel my soul, battered and bloodied, uplifted.
There were no flights today, but there it was—
A lone vapor trail—so piercing white and blinding.
Aloft, the solitary defender of that domain.
Vigilant airman.
Determined.
Protector.
Χιλιαδες†
Pro patria mori.
Again we listen to the lies
Of men we believed to be our better,
Who could not protect us when the towers fell,
Though some have tried, fought valiantly for a noble truth.
And there died thousands, the Chiliádes,
For barren plains of poppy
For high and barren mountains
Barren fields, and no oil,
For a people who care nothing for freedom.
And the dying continues, too few to walk the streets
Not making them safe
Not making a difference
For a people who care nothing for freedom.
And we are now indebted to wars to come,
And they will come—
A people encouraged by the destruction of their enemies
And what they could not do themselves, we have done,
Vanquished their enemies, uniting a people.
And new nations, united, unvanquished, will fight for their god.
For their God.
And there will die a myriad.
And of our thousands, the dead forgotten,
Betrayed by cowards, paralysis and comfort.
The greatest nation, falls—the experiment fails,
Destroyed as a house divided, who would not vanquish its enemies.
Who would not be men.
Who would sell the weapons of our own destruction, for greed
For new slaves in lesser worlds,
To pick our lettuce. To answer the phone.
The experiment fails, even as brave men would act,
Believing the new lies—Divided by the new lies.
Pro patria mori
Επικληση‡
Cry out! They are too few They must not be forgotten.
By lesser men.
Let the thousands survive As the experiment fails.
Retire to the coldest north Where men once lived, and learned of valor.
Who flew and walked upon the moon Who fed the world and lived as men.
A new millennium and a time to survive The north men will survive.
Remember them well reader Child of the Chiliádes.
Keep them safe as the experiment fails Keep them safe in the coldest north
When I, a poet, have turned to dust Remember them and keep them well.
Remember, Children of the Chiliádes that long ago, there once were men.
Cry out! They are too few They must not be forgotten.
About the Author
William E. Ames received a degree in English from The Pennsylvania State University, where he works as an IT Specialist. Mr. Ames manages this web site, as well as GrammerCop.com, and he is a freelance photographer. In his spare time, you can find Mr. Ames hiking in the woods of Pennsylvania or around the battlefields of Gettysburg and others.
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