A poem written in honor of all soldiers by David Tombale: Who watches over

I know there are female soldiers out there serving their countries honourably but originally this poem was written for a contest dedicated to a specific male soldier's family. I think it still stands as a testament to the pride we take in all soldiers regardless of gender who fight for their countries. Regardless of if you are in favour or against any war what remains undeniable is that there are brave men and women who give their lives daily for something bigger than themselves.
Who watches over

I have no words left, my frame shakes
as I find myself imagining the faces
that remain, that stay waiting for
my feet to fall upon the porch because
somewhere out there far from here
lies my home;

Oh fellow traveller let us while waging
wars for home and hearth never forget
the ones we are fighting for. Oh mother
I will be back someday, whether flesh
Or spirit for you I will always be your
Son;

Oh broken road do not stray from me
because someday I will walk your narrow
strip, light of heart and happy to finally
be going home;

Those thoughts they keep me, they are
my prayer spoken over the sound of guns.
A litany that keeps me strong as I mention
each word out loud, father, mother, brother,
Sister do not cry for me because from where
I sit I will always remain your soldier, your
beloved boy watching over each and every
one of you.

A poem about child abuse by David Tombale: Years

To be clear this poem about child abuse does not address my own personal experiences. I have never had a hand laid on me by anyone in my family instead it touches on things I've learnt from friends and classmates over the years. With these new influx of interest in gender violence there should at least be one voice still speaking up for helpless children everywhere.
Years


It took me years to realize
That there was nowhere where
I could hide, there were not rooms
Enough, not enough closets to
Hide my tiny frame in, their
Shouts would find me every time
And his hand around my slender
Wrist dug in deeply, too many
Times when I thought to run but
I was so afraid, afraid of starving,
Afraid of street corners where
People died,

It took me years to realize
How to stay silent, how to take
My beatings, I was ten when I
First hated, fifteen when I
Contemplated murder but it never
Happened, fear once more
Wrapped around my hand so
I'd hide inside my school until
It grew so dark that it made me
Think that I could get lost but I came
Back again to that windswept house,

It took me years to realize
That he was sick, his heart the
First of us to turn, he couldn't
Breathe that Sunday morn,
Perhaps some dream stole the last
Of that hateful man, all I know is that
It's getting better now, I turned
Eighteen and there are no bruises
On my back, perhaps there is no
Love but I know there are no bruises
And that's all I think I want tonight.

A poem about heartbreak by David Tombale: The last train

This sad love poem doesn't just address losing someone you love but also touches on travelling to escape a life you can no longer stand. It's not only about heartbreak, it's about and self.
The last train

My train is late again,
I hear its wheels rumbling gently on the rails
as it travels near to take me far away

I have to go you see,
there is nothing here that I’m living for
so I think I’ll ply my trade there out at sea,
lifting my sun burnt face to watch the stars
sparkling in the sky

I’ll tell the wind someday
of all the places I have been,
my sojourn amidst the catacombs in Paris,
my time spent sketching the skylines in New York
and when I’m done
perhaps I’ll find my way back to that place where I was born
but I have no hopes

I lost them on that last day in July,
the seasons turned and you were gone
now I’m going down these famous roads
trying to find some meaning in goodbye,
a riddle answered by my thoughts.

A sad poem about drug abuse by David Tombale: The Devils

This sad poem was written for a contest about addiction or something like that. It's one of the few that I've written about my less than admirable past and the reckless behaviour that defined it. It's not meant to be an excuse but I think that people might relate to some of what it's meant to represent.
The Devils

Something about the spliff made
An old man new and a new man
Old and turned my brain around
Until I could see the trail my thoughts
Blazed, man it was beautiful, the
Highs were so high that the ground
Was just a surface upon a surface
And it moved;

Something about the spliff it moved
Me, made those quiet moments
Profound until I couldn't even see
What it I was running from;

Hey man I was running, too scared
To lay my battered body down with
My heart leaking like sieve, the spliff
Don't save me but baby these devils
Got me down.

A contemplative poem about life by David Tombale: Transcendence

Transcendence is a contemplative poem about the changing natures of social relationships following the invention of social media and what it means to be human in this century. It was originally titled Transcendent Human but Transcendence seemed a better fit.

Transcendence

Cables spooling round my knobby
Knees, head bent low to breathe
The scent of ozone and twisted chips

Transcendent part of me, talking emails
And the internet, in space and out of it,
My eyes revolving in chat rooms and
Movie blogs, game forums and the
Intranet

My body slipping off me like flesh and bone
As my mind is left in the places in-between

The Facebooks flick their tongues at me,
The Twitters coiling around my feet and
I’m rejecting halves and quarters of me,
The loneliness, the longing, the kisses transmitted
In molecules from A to B, B to C until they call it loving
And I’m losing some sense of self and us which
Is why I’m giving up.

A poem about heartbreak by David Tombale: Beautiful summer days

This poem was written for a contest about memories of summer. This sad piece covers another personal memory picked from my mind about a girl I used to know long ago.
Beautiful summer days

I spent my summers by the river
Whispering these sweet sweet
Words to that laughing girl,
Captivated by the loveliness of
Her smile, honey gold hair and
That carefree laugh I likened to
All the warmth the sun could give.

We lay by the bank of that
Quiet river as the larks sang
In the trees and she made me
Smile as she stroked my cheek
That girl in her Sunday dress,
It clung to her as I clung to her,
Touching rounded curves so
Damn slowly.

Those beautiful summer days filled
My world with so much light
I wish I'd captured them in my
Granny's jars. I loved that girl
All summer long as we ran
And fell and danced in places
That only lovers knew.

Eric tells me that she is happy now
In another Sunday dress with rounded
Belly, a little present lies huddled
In mother's warmth, little baby
Did you know that once your mommy
Loved a boy in the sweltering days
Of summer that we thought would
Last forever?

A poem about heartbreak by David Tombale: Only In A Dream

This poem was inspired by a personal experience of losing someone I loved to someone I didn't even know. The idea of watching someone fall out of love with you while you find it hard to let go was one I felt I just had to put down on paper.
Only In A Dream

Tis for love
I wandered down these halls,
played merry games from
summer down to fall
but now the merry making has
made too much of us,
the weary heads,
the empty beds,
I've grown sickened by it all;

That's why her laughter rid my
battered heart of all its cares,
that's why her words were sweet
music in this toneless hall,
she was my saving grace,
the amber nectar I only remembered
in my youth;

Too many things
I thought I saw in her,
my lover,
my promised friend until
she told me that she was leaving,
his face in all her dreams,
I caught a hint of it in the words she said,
is it any wonder that I am hurt?

I am wounded while he is happy
grasping a dream I wish
I'd never dreamed, still another's in my bed
staring at me with eyes so much like hers and
it only makes me wonder
how long before this fades?
Even as I try to linger in our kiss
still I wonder
how long before this too must go?