Kevin Drue Donnelly’s Veteran Poetry

Kevin Drue Donnelly authored each poem with his U.S. Army enlistment in 1977.

This page is posted for Veterans Day, November 11th, each year, per Kevin’s request to his sister.

“Why? I gave him my Word.”
Kevin’s Sister

Monette Benoit

One Salute At A Time

www.captainkevindonnelly.com

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“Sincere Once More”

I wanted to just write a poem…
And write it for some vets.
But the more I got to thinking…
The more I started to regret.
As we watch today’s Veteran Sales…
And other secular events
I wonder whatever happened to…
Just saying, “thank you” …
that was sincere- and really meant?

Some will claim they are a veteran…
And so they are worthy of praise.
Others will not say a word…
Yet, both are the heroes that we have raised.

People will gather…
And folks will spend…
but not for the Veteran…
And, probably not, from within.

Where are all the folks from the past…
That would gather and hoist a toast?
They’d almost want to stand in line…
To give the veteran their most.

Today it’s a little different…
And I’m not, really, sure just why.
For just a few years ago…
The flags were certainly up
And, in fact, were waving quite high….
What is it with our country…
That demands so much from its vets?

From the giving of their lives…
To their living with regrets?

But at times when the vet is down…
And others are misspent…
Along comes another day…
To remind us what we meant.
Maybe one day, soon to come…
Others will finally respect, and not resent…
That vets offered to give their lives…
And never thought about “percents”.

But now the needy veteran will find them…
Only, not where they need to be.
They’ll be found in the stores on merchandise…
And not on ‘VA’ letters… to be.

“Give us ‘percents’ to equate our lives”…
Is what most vets are left to plead for.
The dignity is gone, the shame comes on…
The hopes are dashed – and even bleed some.
When they’re forced to play the games…
For what they were always promised,
It breaks their heart, crushes their spirit…
They’re left to feel admonished.
But most will only die…
Sooner than should be…
They’d only like some hope…
To show their families.

So let’s hear it for the vets!
And let’s see it in the stores!
But let’s hope we see it, real genuine…
And a little “sincere”- once more!

By Kevin Drue Donnelly, Captain, USAR
11/11/98

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“Do they really believe…?”

They’ve tainted our image…
And offered no hope.
Infants now ill…
We get nothing – but smoke.
Where is the help?
Where is the caring?
Why no concern?
Why the meandering?
Why are we told,
That we’re not even ill?
Yet given a needle
To take with some pills?

Make sure you pay.
Money’s the cure!
Just look at famous…
If you want to be sure.

Liver they say!
But, blood is the key…
So, get a biopsy…
The better to see.
But what of the tummy?
The spleen, and such?
What of the heart?
The bones and stuff?
Where do we go…
When all, it aches?

How do you say…
Listen! Just wait…
I had a sharp pain…
It went from here…
Went over there…
But now it’s disappeared…
They look at you weird.
Like you’ve lost your mind.
But, they were not taught…

So, we look like mimes.
Unable to express…
Just what we need.
They know more than us…
Yet, where we ‘can’ see…
That, those whom are trusted…
And enabled by law…
To render assistance…
Have clearly, clearly, dropped the ball.

How can we say…?
When, though we ‘can’ speak…
Others will ‘not’ listen.
Will not encourage, won’t seek.
Why no help?
Why the delay?

Do they really believe…
We’ll ALL go away?
After 60 years,
Please give us some help.

Why has hepatitis…
Been put on a shelf?

By Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly, Hepatitis sufferer
12/5/99

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“We”

A veteran stood alone today,
Just staring, at the Capitol steps.
Wondering, how long it would take,
For the leaders, to pay their respect.

For decades heroes have been forgotten,
Except when all felt the shame.
Of the vets that died from yester-year,
The one’s who had no names.

Inside the great Capitol,
This veteran noted to himself,
Are politicians who like to wave the flag,
But look the other way, when asked to help.
They know not what they do.
For they are politicians, and do it for greed.

The veteran does their part,
Because of this country’s needs.
The veteran, alone, stood and stared,
Then started to approach the marble steps.
“If it’s flag waving and honor they want,
Then surely, surely, they want a vet!”

As the Capitol neared,
And the vet approached the first steps,
The flag atop the building suddenly snapped, and waved
And greeted, the lonely vet.

It waved from high atop, the Nation’s Capitol.
Far removed, from the politician’s embrace.
It saluted Arlington Cemetery,
And all the great, great, heroes in that place.
The flag will never be,
For those that think, of only “Me”.

The veteran is a veteran,
Because they always think of “We.”

By Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly
May 1998

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“The Battle Raged as a Distant Storm…”

The Forces Mounted to hold the Fort.
“Stand Tall! Be sharp!” was the rallying cry…
“Get up! Stand fast! Hold! Don’t now reply!”
The dust clouds approached…
And in came the hoards.

Overwhelming and frightening…
Massive, now engorged.
They screamed from the depths…
From below the Fortress walls, but!
All were now deaf…
Upon the mounted and towered, earthen, wall.

“Come down, give up!
Surrender thyself!
Give in! Look out!
You have nothing else!”
But from the towers…
They threw back their responses.
Made up of words…
To rebuff their, now, stoutness.
“How can you not … Listen to prophets?”
They screamed from below…
“We look only to profit…”
“Get, out!
So now…
We can have ‘all’ of your land!
From Fortress to horizon,
Then back here again.”

“You’ll pay! We win!
There’s nothing you can do!”
But down from the walls…
Fall start falling words – much like a glue.
They are a little…
Bit different than most.

They are, but, the words…
Spoken by ‘hordes’, not by ‘hosts’.
The hordes cringed…
And cried out.
And yelled,
“How is this fair?”
“That you slay us with our own words now…
That we wrote,
And have since,
Repaired!”

Like hot oil from Quazimoto.
It dripped on the hordes.
And back they began,
To Stumble and fall.

More threw words…
But targeted their might.
Knowing others get lost…
When the cause is for right.
Back they moved.
And soon into a rush.
The Centuries stood silent.
They watched with a hush.

But off the hordes ran.
All tarred and feathered.
With their words that they spoke of,
Now gripping like leather.

“Use this time…
To gather more ammunition!”
Was heard shouted about…
From inside their position.

Again, the dust clouds are there.
But something’s now different…
They are no longer advancing…
They’re moving backwards without precision.

So here we stand…
And now for the years.
They know of our methods…
But still can’t reappear.

They grumble and mumble…
As they move away from it all…
“Your fault!” “No!” “Your fault!”
They start to blame all.
“They were to lie down!”
“And surrender thyself!”
“Who said? Who thought?”
Some shouted down the rout.
With the words that they used…
To make their careers,
Now were cast down like stones…
Better…
Much like arrows, ‘incoming’, from previous years.

By Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly
5 August, 1999
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Posted for Veteran’s Day, November 11th, each year, per Kevin’s request to his sister.

“Why? I gave him my Word.”
Kevin’s Sister
Monette Benoit
www.CaptainKevinDonnelly.com

Kevin Drue Donnelly’s Veteran Poetry

2002 – Second Year Tribute: Still Listening, Still Waiting For The Truth – Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly

2001 – He Was A Brother, a Vet, and He Died Before His Time

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