Ode to the Beast

Without doubt
It is my body,
That sees, feels, and shouts.

Without doubt,
It is my body,
That perceives an accomplished clout.

It’s done so much,
Become so much,
Since in the soup it first crawled out.

It did so much,
Became so much,
Before any mind could think a doubt.

Through all the years,
And all the tears,
It built the minds throughout.

Through all the years,
And all the tears,
All minds served it most devout.

The body is the Mighty Beast!
We’re here because of it.

The body was a mindless beast,
War flamed because of it.

Without the beast we’d all know peace,
But peace be of the mind.

So without the beast there’d be no peace,
For there’d be no mind of any kind.

The Forest from the Trees

Is this the right tree?
Someone double check me.
See if I’m right,
And of fault I am free.

I think I can see,
Marked here on this tree,
The scratches of the greats,
Who came before me.

They found the Great Secret
Up here in this tree.
They found the Great Secret
Of which I may see.

But how can I know
If this is the right tree?
The forest is wider,
And greater than me.

Someone double check me.
Is this the right tree?

If I’m right,
Then I’ll share it,
And we can all be eased.

Pray We see the Likes of Her Again

The Greatest of the Greatest Generation.
Born with a broken body,
But not a broken body.

She liberated her limb
To dance and declare
Songs for soldiers to celebrate.

She defeated drunks,
Made men,
Fixed fractured families into
A single lion’s den.

All whilst painting poetically.

Now, know her name and exalt it
Again and again!

Her name is Dorothy June Combes!
In my veins her blood does still flow.

Her name is Dorothy June Combes!
Onward in her shadow I go.

Her name is Dorothy June Combes!
Take heed to this truth that I know:

We must echo her memory
Through all human history,
Or we will be doomed
To certain misery.

For the echo is the only way
We can pray
A chance
To glance
The likes of her again.


I wish to immortalize the moment
Of the sun pouring across your chest,
Drizzling down your stomach,
And curving around the rest.

Gleaming curls glorify the empyrean eye’s shine,
While peach lips parting take me in.

Warmth glows, emitting from your sacred skin,
Igniting all Space and Time as your hips
Settle above mine.

And it is the beams we make,
At the flash of intake,
That are the prominence,
Of this instance,
In Existence.

William R. Combes is a 5th grade teacher in Florida. His students are stupendous. After many years of encouraging them to work hard for their dreams, he remembered his dream of being a writer.