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For our friends and fellow-officers
This is part of highlighting the life and times of Sgt. Richard Byrd Martin!
It has been a pleasure to assemble this.
It also includes a few of his numerous other (non-BCPD) poems.
Of course, you may share this with others if you wish.
To me as I read them, I can enjoy the humor, and vividly recall the times and people involved.
Thank you Officer Hackley, for attaching this to the BCPD website.
With fond memories Helen E Martin
Any reference to known individuals is strictly a coincidence!
However, these names come to mind-
Blue Cesear, Capt.Queeg,
The Marquis- Capt. Frank Serra
Porky Pig- Lt. Leslie Stickles
The Ol Elf- Sgt. Edmund Ford
The Remington Ranger- Lt. Robert Jenkins
Boy Wonder- Sgt. Jim Rainey
The Israelite- Officer. Harry Richman
Mata Hari- Clerk Martha Russell
Sonny Corleone- Capt. Joseph De Carlo
The Sensous Sextenant- Lt Ralph Copper
Ol Sarge Red, Robin Redbreast- Sgt. Redmond
Blue Kojak, the Fuhrer- Col. Wilbur Miller
Junction John- Officer John Elton
"BLUE MATA HARI”
(The Mini-Skirt Major)
From her keyboard comes memos, both lengthy and brief,
She adores serving brass, both Captain and Chief.
Some say she controls nearly all but the weather,
If a plot must be hatched, she can put it together.
T'would seem that an earthquake would never unnerve her,
She delights in the "Little Blue Ducklings" that serve her.
No matter what may be her need or desire,
There is little these lackeys fail to acquire.
As the weekend approaches the "Go-Fors“ all know,
There are goodies to gather and cokes they must stow.
Under Mata's direction they all do their thing,
"We'll make it a blast - A jolly wing ding."
As "Caesar", "Porky", and "Sonny" appear,
All the "Ducklings“ and Mata stand up and cheer.
But when it's all over and Monday arrives,
It's men watch your backs, beware of the knives.
It seems a sad pity that by such a few,
Morale can be tainted for so many in blue.
T'is said for each Rat, there's a Hundred Good Men.
Where does Policy begin, and the big party end?
But a Bond she is not with her intrigue and spying,
For most of her business is conducted by lying.
She'll tell all she knows, sometimes with a twist,
Though you don't feel the lips, you know you've been kissed.
If you dig graves for others, you must always beware,
To keep from falling in you must always take care.
If the gravediggers warning forever holds true
The Mini-Skirt Major will get hers, too.
The poet's ever watchful awaiting his chance.
He's not taken in by the “Major's” hot-pants.
Her charm and her outfits his mind don't beguile,
And the sword's not as mighty as the pen and a smile.
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“MATA’S DILEMMA”
At parties Mata shimmies and shakes,
As the hostess, she seldom makes any mistakes;
But lately, at work, by some it's been said,
That her typing bears little circles of red!
Which would thus indicate the bitter fact,
That someone is seeing through her act.
And what a sorry act it is,
For she's truly a phony, but that's 'Show Biz'.
Unjustly some poor souls she has berated,
Saying Mediocrity will not be tolerated!
Seems subordinates can no longer please her,
Can it be that she misses her idol 'Blue Caesar'?
Whatever she is or pretends to be,
She's too far out for you or me,
She's a guided missile with feminine curves,
Whose sale admirers are the rats that she serves,
But have patience all you good lads in blue,
For there'll soon be a taming of this shrew.
Except for the ducklings, porky, and sonny,
She'd be a poor bargain for any mans money,
One could shake them all up in a gigantic bag,
But t'would take a poor hunter on this catch to brag,
For though they're each different, there's one thing for sure,
They'd turn a rats stomach and pollute a sewer.
Come hell or high water, there's one thing for sho
The mini-skirt major will soon have to go!
For history has proven so oft in the past,
That those who are wicked somehow never last,
And despite all the perfume, satin, or lace,
Mata's true self reflects in her face.
**********************************************************************
"Caesars’ Dilemma"
When promoted to Captain, he left E& T,
The dye was then cast for what was to be,
Amidst new surroundings, which were a far cry,
from those wet-nosed rookies, he had bid his goodby,
Now came his prime chance to flaunt the 'book'
And at what came to pass- let us now have a look.
At his first staff meeting, it was obvious to see,
That a two-way street was not meant to be,
His chamber was filled with the finest of men,
Who all plead their cases, time and again,
Yet, despite all of this, those present soon knew
Caesar's mind was set solely on his chosen few.
As time passed on and the troops gave their all,
With his own little clique he had a ball.
Though men craved a real leader whom they could deem pal,
He steadily tainted their dipping morale.
Through their hard endeavor and deep blind devotion,
Good deeds paved the way for his sudden promotion.
These men on whose sweat _ he had made his quick climb
Were the strongest of limb and the bravest of mind,
Yet little acknowledgement, he'd dare afford,
The old 'purple shaft' would be their reward,
For once he had firmly settled down in the tower,
Caesar's orders and memos were born by the hour.
If some would have been for the good of patrol,
No gripe could have come, not from one living soul,
Yet, could we all help but to have serious doubt?
When morale should be growing we are having drought.
Most would have been thankful for this God given chance,
To accomplish great things and our image enhance.
Seems though there is sunshine, we're having foul weather,
We're pulling apart and far from together.
Yet if he would do what was sure meant to be,
He'd spare us this grief and rejoin E & T;
For it's leaders we need and not pompous geezers,
In such men lie our hopes and not the 'Blue Caesars!
Pray God that the head of this Police Administration,
Unlike the President of our great nation,
Will correct his mistakes, then, his wisdom we'll see,
And thus return the Captain to E & T;
For as he has risen, he surely must fall,
If there is real justice for us, after all.
Great power and authority on man makes demands,
And can well be a demon, in some greedy hands,
And yet, that same force where 'true wisdom' reigns,
Can serve mankind well and ensure all his gains;
We will not suggest he who should succeed,
But please choose well a man we'll all respect and heed!
*****************************************************
“THE BLUE STREAKERS"
Now hear this, y'all, and break out your best sneakers,
There's a meetin' this day of those jolly 'Blue Streakers';
First Caesar arrives with his Israelite beaming,
Then 'Sonny', 'Porky', and the 'Ducklings' come streaming.
The site of this ecstatic fete is Gwynns Falls,
So knock it off troops, there'll be no cat calls.
'Blue Mata' glares from her window in glee,
"I'm glad this is one scene that doesn't include me!
A chopper sets down not far from the track,
With his dimples aglow, there emerges 'Kojak'.
“Well bless my soul, I'm a slick-headed Dude,
It's Caesar and his rat-pack, all in the nude!"
They're off in a canter and as they prance by me,
I think how this even would dazzle ole 'Hymie'.
As 'Caesar' and 'Sonny' both set a gay pace,
'Porky' and the 'Ducklings' try just to place.
Now see how they streak o'er the field as they glide!
With rumps brightly beaming, they're now in full stride;
As they cross the horizon, they look like white jets,
Where the 'shrinks' are awaiting them with butterfly nets.
***********************************************************************
“BLUE CAESAR"
(The Patrol Division's Lament)
Spread out the red carpet, let the drums roll;
Sound loud the trumpets, 'Tis the 'Lord of Patrol'.
His approach is undaunted, this arrogant Geezer;
Now all behold him, our leader-‘Blue Caesar'!
Napoleon, Hannibal, even Adolph were great,
But could hardly compete with the tyrants of late.
While the real theme should be-"Follow me, men in blue"!
Its "do as I say” , never mind what I do!
In these times without backing, facing scorn and abuse;
For real leaders we're lacking, many say - "What's the use?
Small wonder, that daily, morale shows decline;
Men lose their incentive, despair, and resign.
While the great ones' bask in their ivory tower,
Good men with true grit tow the mark, by the hour;
Can one wonder where it's all leading to?
Most are frustrated, how about you?
So if we are ever to stand tall and proud,
And perform as a unit and not as a crowd,
We must have a leader, our examples to set;
Take head in high places, it's not too late yet!!
Though even behind us, we have Uncle Sam,
It seems those above us just don't give a damn;
To face changes needed, they're truly afraid;
From the ranks spring real leaders; from books, they're not made.
A few carryon and exist just like me,
But we need more than Unions and F.O.P.;
Instead of desire, one hears these few words
"I just cannot hack it, I'll take my two-thirds"!
It isn't because I am lacking for time;
And from this subject pours unending rhyme;
We do not expect a complete total pleaser,
But God send us a LEADER and not a 'Blue Caesar'.
*************************************************************************
"BLUE KOJAK"
From the East, this tyrant came,
At lopping off heads, he's earned his fame.
How strange it is, we must bemoan,
How he has ever kept his own!
It's warned we are, to toe the mark,
and fear his presence after dark,
We'd better know the book and more,
So on statistics, men keep score.
With the weaker sex, he's strong and mean:,
Some have called him Mr. Clean"
A house in order, all atone!
"But does this too, go for his own?
“Know your shotguns A to Z!"
"Project perfection just like 'me (?)"
For like ,'Blue Caesar', I excel
In casting rocks and raising hell.
He's oft compared with the tubes Kojak',
For both can lead a mean attack,
there is one difference and do not scoff,
At least the one can be turned off!
Unlike the gentle touch of Doves,
He's oft made points with leaded gloves,
But if you will keep off our back,
We may serve you well, 'Kojak'.
To boost morale, I'll never stop,
So let men share your "lollipop',
Lest as with tyrants of before,
From this pen, there will come more!
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THE SENSUOUS SEXTENANT
(or the Southwestern Swinger)
He wears his white hat with such great sex appeal
His muscles just ripple, he is truly unreal
Like Nero, who merrily played on his fiddle
His game is to play both ends from the middle
With Queeg out of sight, he must change his old tact,
Like Porky, the Pig, he must stay in the act,
At half past the hour, from his office he toddles,
“All Right, all you men, clear the room of coke bottles”.
His manner, though Military, is ever quits gay.
One can’t help but wonder, is he really that way?
From push-ups and weights, he got Superman’s looks,
But his main source of brains are his obscene sex books.
To be the great leader, he loves to pretend,
While his real ambition is to gain his own end.
Like Boy Wonder, with bosses, his ego excels,
A pat on the back, and his chest swells and swells
At the training of dogs, he could soon win a pennant,
But to all of his men, he’s still the sextenant,
On sexual philosophy, he’s sure a hum-dinger,
No wonder he’s known as the “Southwest Swinger”
Like the Remington Ranger, he’s lacking for balls,
He delights in holding x-rated roll calls,
Of one thing I’m sure, You’ll agree there’s no doubt,
If his head opened up, we know what would pop out.
So Sextenant heed this, understand what I mean,
It has often been said, that a new broom sweeps clean….
As poetry goes, I may not be the greatest,
But enjoy this men, as it is my latest!!
THE POET
(EVER FAITHFUL)
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The transfer list grows ever big,
From the squad that led by Porky Pig,
His face grows red, his collar tight!!
When he blows his mind, he’s out of sight.
The fishing party boards the boat,
The ship of fools is now a float,
The Pig, Boy Wonder, and Captain Queeg,
A crew befitting any brig.
This Poets’ aim is good morale,
I write because I am your pal,
The fan club’s leaving for a while,
So read this men---and smile, smile, smile!!!
****************************************************************
Strawberries and ball bearings roll,
As Queeg has lost all control;
Crime marches on and to boot
Sergeants will soon walk on foot;
While glory and praise goes to finks,
This great ship or fools sinks and sinks;
Of inspections, 'tis said there'll be more,
While morale and spirit grow poor.
THE FAN CLUB
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