I had the thought it would not be very much like a warrior poet to not share at least some poetry. I hope you enjoy.
Cigar Shoppe Men
Cigar smoke. Curled round crinkled
smiles. Us bastards here hide
all away from, and within.
Cramped quarters. Cajoling from stools
with our backslapping laughter.
It’s all smoke screen. There is more
To us men. Wrapped in cigars,
Of Pain leaves, and persistent pressure.
Tobacco tears our walls
away. His eyes sober and
we receive his sacred confessions.
We take thoughtful, respectful tokes.