Poetry from the pages of

Rogue Project Leader

Why do we include poetry in RPL?  It's not just because we can.  It's because we believe poetry matters.  Poetry, even bad poetry, helps us see a side of the world that prose simply cannot illuminate.  It exposes and engages a part of the brain that is often neglected in the no-nonsense world of technology development.  It's important.  It's fun.  It's poetry.

Two Haiku For You, By Dan Ward

A good idea
in a bad poem is still
a good idea.

A bad idea
in a good poem is still
a bad idea.

I love ee cummings , By Dan Ward

i love ee cummings

his everexpandingandcontracting

O

            u

                        t

                                    O

   f con-t-r        ol zaniness; And

income(virtually)prehensiblytw

  is

     Ted

way of lO(seeing)Oking at things.

he was a handsome man.

I love Jackson Pollock…

his moving pictures that never… stand… still…

and look accidental… maybe… they are…

But I’ve been told… he knew what he was doing…

even if… the casual observer... finds it… inscrutable.

I don’t pretend… to understand… Jack the Dripper’s

distant galaxy… or his strange alchemy…

but I keep looking anyway…

Manalive, I love G. K. Chesterton,

his enormous unconventional orthodoxy,

and paradoxical oversized wit,

righting the upside-down world over and over again,

like a gigantic wisechild, workplaying with blocks,

making me look and laugh every time.

More startling than Cummings and Pollock combined,

wilder, freer, more whimsical and humbler,

his impact on my outlook is everlasting, man.

Sure, I admire these master craftsmen,

but I more than admire their more than skill,

and as I wander and ramble,

carving little signs that say “Dan was here,”

I try to splash as much paint as I can,

disregardinglycreating my own very syntax,

and laughing.  For God’s sake,

Laughing.

The Ruined Soldier
With apologies to Thomas Hardy and all the good Generals in DC

"O' Gen'ral, my good friend, this sure does beat all!
Who knew we'd meet up in this Pentagon hall?
And such medals! Such brass! You're a sight to see!"
"O didn't you know I'd been ruined?" said he.

"You left us in camo, your boots caked with mud,
Tired of dealing with sand, heat and blood.
And now you are starched crisp, sharp and shin-y!"
"Yes: that's how we dress when we're ruined," said he.

"At home in the field you said no or yes
And hoo-ah and roger. Such plainness, I guess
Ain't proper or common in this compa-ny."
"Some polish is gained with one's ruin," said he.

"Your hands were like paws then, your face black and blue,
But now I can scarcely believe this is you!
No callous or scar mars your delica-cy!"
"We never do work when we're ruined," said he.

"You said long deployments were bringing you down
And you'd sigh, and you'd groan and wear a big frown.
Now you are chipper and oh-so smile-y!"
"True. One's pretty lively when ruined," said he.

"I wish I had ribbons and bright eagle wings,
A cushy big office in one of these rings."
"My friend - a raw warfighter, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. Y'ain't ruined," said he.

The Great Ship
The great ship went down
on the day it set sail
while the Captain and First Mate
stood fast by the rail.

'Twas an iceberg they hit
and the damage was vast.
Oh, the great ship went down
while the Captain stood fast.

He'd seen the 'berg coming.
He knew it was there.
For the sun, it was shining,
and the sea winds were fair.

But he'd laid his trajectory
and plotted his course.
So the ship shot ahead
like a riderless horse.

Well the iceberg, it shattered
the great ship's port side.
It sliced through the hull
and opened it wide.

"We have a plan,"
said the Captain unblinking.
"And it cannot be changed,"
said the First Mate unthinking.

So the great ship, it sank
while the Captain stood fast.
He believed all his planning
was certain to last.

As the great ship slipped under
the cold ocean blue
The Captain took comfort -
to the plan he'd been true.