Author Archives: alslaff

I dreamed of writing during my teenage and college years, but my plans were put on hold in 1965 when I entered the Army. Somehow, a four year enlistment into the Army Security Agency turned into a career! While serving in the Army, my writing skills were honed in assignment after fascinating assignment, e.g., language analyst, basic training drill sergeant, small unit tactics (Cavalry) instructor, Pershing operations sergeant, to name a few. I served as a Vietnamese, Cambodian, and German linguist with tours in Vietnam, Thailand, and Germany. Over twenty years later, I retired from the military and continued to write full time for industry and the private sector. I have returned to the passion of my youth to write the thoughts of my heart in excellent poetry and fiction. (See the Short Bio page for more backstory.)

Laura Revisited II

Hurricane Laura hit us about one in
the morning. The noise and the heat
awakened me. The power was out.

It sounded like there were two big
powerful locomotives moving at top
speed. One flying past the front of

the house and one in the backyard.
The two large elms and giant oak
in the front cast elastic shadows.

I sort of slept from three to six or
so. A cold water clean up. No shave.
No electric but the stove is gas. I used

a lighter and boiled water for coffee.
I went to the top cupboard and took
down my old Bodum French press.

It was fine for the two of us. We moved
into the TV room where I opened two
windows and the side door to get some

air. Hot air is better than no air. A light
breeze crisscrossed the room. The rain
stopped. By dusk the wind started to

die down. We talked back and forth all
afternoon. I cooked as the light faded
from the windows. We ate by lantern.

Back in the TV room, she shrieked.
Her fan came on. Power was back on.
God is good. The gift of another day.

Laura Revisited

Laura. Bracing for storms coming our
way. The first one sort of fizzled out;
second one did not. Waiting for Laura.

I’ve been singing that schmaltzy ballad
from the 1944 movie of the same name
since last night. Whatever happened to

my mother’s copy of Vanity Fair, I’ll
never know. I remember the picture of
Gene Tierney in it and Gary Cooper in

1934. It was a favorite book of mine as
a kid. Laura was a favorite, too. Still is.
One of the few good memories. But

this poem can only end or begin with
one word. Laura. “Laura is the face in
the misty light…”

A Candle of Faith

I can’t be having the thoughts I’m having.
The thoughts of past abuse never go
completely away. I understand that.

Those thoughts spawn other thoughts.
And before I know it, I’m back in a place
I don’t want to be.

Pain and pleasure converge once again
and I’m in touch with the confusion of
the eight-year-old that was me.

It is Satan’s fuel fanning the fires of past
abuse freezing my thoughts for today.
Fiery arrows aimed at the heart to destroy

whatever is true. The breath of an angel is
all it takes to quench this Hell fire and
bring me back into God’s grace and truth.

Light and darkness can never occupy the
same space. All it takes is a candle of faith
to dispel the darkness.