Thoughts and Prayers

[MOD 360]

"A Part of America Died"

Somebody killed a policeman today,
and a part of America died.
A piece of our country he swore to protect,
will be buried with him at his side.

The suspect that shot him will stand up in court,
with counsel demanding his rights.
While a young widowed mother must work for her kids,
and spend many long, lonely nights.

The beat that he walked was a battle field too,
just as if he'd gone off to war.
Though the flag of our nation won't fly at half mast,
to his name they will add a gold star.

Yes, somebody killed a policeman today,
in your town or mine.
While we slept in comfort behind our locked doors,
a cop put his life on the line.

Now his ghost walks a beat on a dark city street,
and he stands at each new rookie's side.
He answered the call, of himself gave his all,
and a part of America died

[MOD 360]

"Just a Cop"

The funeral line was long,
There's an awful lot of cars,
Folks came out of the restaurants,
They came out of the bars.

The workers at the construction sites
All let their hammers drop.
Someone asked."What is this all for?"
And they said,"Aw, just a cop."

Some chuckled at the passing cars.
Some shed a silent tear
Some people said,"It's stupid.
all these dumb policemen here."

"How come they're not out fightn' crime?
Or in a doughnut shop?
Sure is a lot of trouble,
For someone who's just a cop."

They blocked the intersections,
They blocked the interstate.
People yelled and cursed,
"darn, it's gonna make me late!"

"This is really ridiculous!"
"They're makin' us all stop!"
"It seems they're sure wastin' time,
On someone who's just a cop."

Into the cemetery now,
The slow procession comes,
The woeful Taps are slowly played.
There's loud salutes from guns.

The graveyard workers shake their heads
"This service is a flop."
"There's lots of good words wasted,
On someone who's just a cop."

Yeah, just a cop to most folks.
Did his duty every day.
Tryin' to protect us,
Till they took his life away.

And when he got to heaven,
St. Peter put him at the top.
An angel asked him, "Who was that?"
And he said, "Aw, just a cop."

Author Unknown

[MOD 360]

IF I KNEW

If I knew it would be the last time, that I'd see you fall asleep. I would tuck you in more tightly, and pray the Lord your soul to keep,

If I knew it would be the last time, that I see you walk out the door. I would give you a hug and kiss, and call you back for one more.

If I knew it would be the last time, I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise. I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them back day after day.

If I knew it would be the last time, I could spare an extra minute or two to stop and say.. "I love you," instead of assuming, you would KNOW I do.

If I knew it would be the last time, I would be there to share your day. Well I'm sure you'll have so many more, so I can let just this one slip away.

For surely there's always tomorrow, to make up for an oversight. We always get a second chance, to make everything right.

There will always be another day, to say our "I love yous," And certainly there's another chance to say our "Anything I can do's?"

But just in case I might be wrong, and today is all I get. I'd like to say how much I love you, and I hope we never forget.

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike. Today may be the last chance you get, to hold your loved one tight.

So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today. For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day.

That you didn't take that extra time, for a smile, a hug, or a kiss. You were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last wish.

So hold your loved ones close today, whisper in their ear, Tell them how much you love them, and that you'll always hold them dear,

Take time to say "I'm sorry," "please forgive me," "thank you" or "it's okay." And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today.

~ author unknown ~

:cop: Hey Mod 360! :cop:

:?: How come things submitted by others are removed and then reposted as your doings. :?:

:!: A PART OF AMERICA DIED was posted by a Brother In Mourning. :!:

:!: I believe JUST A COP was posted by Just A Cop :!:

:!: I think that IF I KNEW was posted by Sad LEO :!:

:?: Can't come up with your own material? :?:

:?: Is this going to be deleted too? :?:

Life is short, Break the rules, Forgive quickly, Kiss slowly, Love Truly, Laugh uncontrollably, And never regret anything that made you Smile.

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should Dance.....

:cop: Hey Mod 360! :cop:

:?: How come things submitted by others are removed and then reposted as your doings. :?:

:!: A PART OF AMERICA DIED was posted by a Brother In Mourning. :!:

:!: I believe JUST A COP was posted by Just A Cop :!:

:!: I think that IF I KNEW was posted by Sad LEO :!:

:?: Can't come up with your own material? :?:

:?: Is this going to be deleted too? :?:

Hey Mod360. You did it again. How come?

[quote="Just Curious":346ggup0]:cop: Hey Mod 360! :cop:

:?: How come things submitted by others are removed and then reposted as your doings. :?:

:!: A PART OF AMERICA DIED was posted by a Brother In Mourning. :!:

:!: I believe JUST A COP was posted by Just A Cop :!:

:!: I think that IF I KNEW was posted by Sad LEO :!:

:?: Can't come up with your own material? :?:

:?: Is this going to be deleted too? :?:

Hey Mod360. You did it again. How come?[/quote:346ggup0]

If you look at all the posts MOD 360 is doing a great job sticking to the TOPICS. It is not that persons job to come up with material, just to watch the posts.And is what is happening in the Manors, His job will increase with EC'S DIVORCE TRIAL,, the KM situation which will surpise you with the outcome and evidence of her SHAM marriage and the KOJERK situation which is another topic for another day. Hey the "Scott Newton"fraternity WMPD family had a good day today, real good day so more to follow.

Who ever the RED poster is needs to get a life, big time, because it is clear that person needs to get A LIFE, or get back to that persons family. Drop the redhead with the high heals because she will dump you asap when she gets her new trick. On second thought do not go back to your family because they deserve better then a cheater ( second time around remember DONNA who you SCREWED every which way but loose). But hey work on the Chief''s new FTO Policy at the WM Elemtary School. Rumor is among the teachers that you guys did it on the DESKS!. More to COME.

Hey Mod 360. I did not want you to forget this one. Read the revised version below.

Not Just A Symbol

The young man came forward, his face drawn and sad And he held out his hand, displaying his badge. The old chief rocked slowly and put his hands in his lap And shook his head gently, and said, "What is this crap?"

The young cop sniffed, and from his eye wiped a tear, "I've given you my best for almost one year. But I make no difference, as I once thought I could, There is far more evil out there than is good."

The old chief stared up into the young rookie's eyes And tried to recall something clever and wise. "Tell me" he said, to the once eager young cop. "How many DUI's in a year have you popped?"

"Forty-two," the rookie replied with great pride. "And had you not, how many more might have died? It's not how many are arrested, now, is it? It's how many less accident scenes you must visit."

The kid hung his head, and flexed his strong hands, "But, sir," he said, softly," You don't understand. "We're greatly outnumbered, the drugs are the worst, The schools are like hell and the streets , they are cursed."

"Dealers breed like darn roaches. On the kids, they all prey, And even when arrested, they are out the next day." The old chief set his jaw, and tapped a red finger, And on the young cop, his eyes sadly lingered.

"If one little kid cannot get connected, If one pregnant junkie finds the strength to reject it, If one lousy addict decides he can beat it, If one crack-head in a million says I just don't need it...

Then you...have removed his greatest temptation, If only for a night, it might be be his salvation, And wars are not won by those who say: Screw it. They are won by the men who decide they can do it.

The rookie pulled up an old wooden chair And running a hand through his shock of brown hair, "But what about the children and poor battered wives? Why can't we stop it and fix all those lives?"

"Each time you set foot in that same, run-down house Each time you go back to bust that same dirty louse, For the children and wife, the violence has ceased, If for only a few hours, you offer them peace."

"You cannot dictate their sad chosen path, You cannot stop his booze-laden wrath, You can't pack their belongings and cart them away But you can prevent murder for just one more day."

"But sir," he said, his heart heavy like lead, "I know there are dirtbags who wish I were dead, But the public, the press, the politicians fling mud, And who says thank you when we shed some blood?"

The chief pursed his lips, his answer unknown For he knew it was this pain that hurt to the bone, "There's no easy answers for the ache that you feel, But appreciation and praise just ain't part of the deal."

"The respect, gratitude and admiration, too Will not come from people who can't do what we do. You ask for a sense of honor and pride, My advice, my son, is to look deep down inside."

The young cop stared down at the badge in his hand And he knew he would not resign as he planned, For he saw the badge now as not just something he does, It was not just a symbol...It's what he was.

~~ Author Unknown ~~


The bald cop came forward with his notebook in hand, ready to hand it over to the chief. Chief, sitting on his $4,000.00 dollar chair said “What’s up Kojerk”?

Kojerk, wiping the tears flowing from his eyes, said “I have screwed over as many officers as I can but it makes no difference as I thought it would. There are so many more to backstab and just not enough time”.

Chief stared into Kojerks eyes as he tried to recall something clever and wise. “Tell me” he said, to the faithful backstabbing cop. “How many officers have you screwed over this year”?

“Four or five”, Kojerk replied with great pride. “And had you not, how many more would I have had to work harder to screw over for no reasons”?

Kojerk hung his head high and flexed his strong hands, “But sir”, he said, softly, “you don’t understand. “I am greatly outnumbered. There are far to many good cops in this organization and it is getting extremely difficult to screw anyone over. There are very few entries in my notebook”.

“Good cops breed like roaches” said chief. “Even after being accused of wrongdoing, they are back up the next day doing a great job”. The ole chief set his jaw, and tapped a red finger.

"If I can take one good cop down. If I can deteriorate a complete police department. If I can put in place a dysfunctional administration, then you have done your job".

Kojerk pulled up an old wooden chair and stroking his bald head, “But what about all the other good cops in this department? Why can’t I continue to screw them over and ruin their lives”?

“Each time you set foot in the station. Each time you back up a fellow officer on a call. If only a few entries are made in your little black notebook, you offer me peace and some good ammunition on yet another unsuspecting officer”.

“You can not dictate their chosen path. You can not make them bad officers. You can not bring their spirits down. But you can continue to lie, cheat and bring me some information, truth or not, it makes no difference”.

“But sir”, he said, his heart pounding heavily, “I know there are good cops, me not being one of them, wish that I would do something more suitable of my talents like being a bag boy at Publix, and I am just confused”.

The chief pursed his lips, his answer unknown for he knew that Kojerk was absolutely worthless as a cop and really should submit his application with Publix, stated, I am running out of arse kissers and I really need you to suck up to me”.

"The respect, gratitude and admiration, too will not come from good cops. You ask for a sense of honor and pride. My advice, my son, is to look deep down inside and follow your leaders who have no honor, loyalty, honesty or pride, just in it for the big money"


Kojerk stared down at his notebook in his hand and he knew he would not resign as he planned, For he saw the notebook now as not just something he does, It was not just a symbol...It's what he was.

Author: Joe Mama

Mod 360. I got this one for you. Revised version below.

Some of What I have Learned

I've learned that you can get by on charm for about 15 minutes. After that, you'd better know something.

I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to the best others can do, but to the best you can do.

I've learned that it's not what happens to people that's important. It's what they do about it.

I've learned that you can do something in an instant that will give you a heartache for life.

I've learned that no matter how thin you slice it, there are always two sides.

I've learned that it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

I've learned that it's alot easier to react than it is to think.

I've learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

I've learned that you can keep going long after you think you can't.

I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.


Some of What I have Learned

I've learned that when someone smiles in your face, the knife penetrates you in the back

I've learned that you shouldn't do what others want you to do to get ahead. You need to be a real man and live by your convictions.

I've learned that it's not what happens to people that break the rules that’s important, just as long as the there is equal punishment for all.

I've learned that you can constantly make the wrong decisions and it will bring you a blood pressure problem for life.

I've learned that no matter what the two sides are about, if you are not a team player, you will be the one to get f*%#*d.

I've learned that working for an incompetent administration makes you a stronger person.

I've learned that you need to think about every move no matter how insignificant it may seem.

I've learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

I've learned that you can keep on going long after you have been screwed over and come out ahead.

I've learned that all of us are responsible for what we do, even when you try to lie and cover it up.

It was great seeing everyone last night, one last time before many move on into new directions. There were a few who did not attend and I missed them. But we have great memories. I love you all. Good luck everyone!

A policeman is a composite of what all men are, a mingling of saint, just and deity. He, of all men, is at the same time the most needed and the most unwanted person. He must be such a diplomat that he can settle differences between individuals so that each will think he won. But if a policeman is friendly, he's a flirt, if he's not, he's a grouch. He must be able to start breathing, stop bleeding, tie splints and above all be sure the victim goes home without a limp or expect to be sued. He must know every gun, draw on the run, and hit where it doesn't hurt. He must be able to whip two men twice his size and half his age without damaging his uniform and without being brutal. If you hit him, he's a coward; if he hits you, he's a bully. He must know where all the sin is and not partake. The policeman must chase down leads to a dead end, stake out ten nights to find one witness who saw it happen, but refuses to remember. He must also be a minister, a social worker, an information center, a tough guy and a gentleman. But let a policeman get into trouble and the cry "crooked cop" is shouted. Then let a policeman risk his life and the same guy will say, "He's just doing his job."

A Poem That Gives You Goose bumps...

A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
they said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup
On 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about
"And blood was everywhere,"
"The sirens screamed out eulogies,"
For death was in the air.
"A mother, trapped inside her car,"
Was heard above the noise;
her plaintive plea near split the air:
"Oh, God, please spare my boys!"
She fought to loosen her pinned hands;
"She struggled to get free,"
But mangled metal held her fast
in grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused
"On where the back seat once had been,"
But all she saw was broken glass and
Two children's seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
"She did not hear them cry, "
"And then she prayed they'd been thrown free, "
"Oh, God, don't let them die! "
Then firemen came and cut her loose, "
"But when they searched the back, "
"They found therein no little boys, "
But the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad
"And was traveling alone, "
"But when they turned to question her, "
They discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild
and screaming above the noise
"In beseeching supplication, "
Please help me find my boys!
They're four years old and wear blue shirts;
"Their jeans are blue to match.""
"One cop spoke up, ""They're in my car, "
And they don't have a scratch.
They said their daddy put them there
"And gave them each a cone, "
Then told them both to wait for Mom
to come and take them home.
"I've searched the area high and low, "
But I can't find their dad.
"He must have fled the scene, "
"I guess, and that is very bad."
"The mother hugged the twins and said, "
"While wiping at a tear, "
"He could not flee the scene, you see, "
"For he's been dead a year."
"The cop just looked confused and asked, "
"Now, how can that be true? "
"The boys said, ""Mommy, Daddy came "
"And left a kiss for you."
“He told us not to worry
"And that you would be all right, "
“And then he put us in this car with
"The pretty, flashing light."
"We wanted him to stay with us, "
"Because we miss him so, "
"But Mommy, he just hugged us tight "
And said he had to go.
He said someday we'd understand
"And told us not to fuss, "
"And he said to tell you, Mommy, "
"He's watching over us."
The mother knew without a doubt
"That what they spoke was true, "
"For she recalled their dad's last words,"
"I will watch over you."
The firemen's notes could not explain
"The twisted, mangled car, "
And how the three of them escaped
without a single scar...
"But on the cop's report was scribed, "
"In print so very fine, "
An angel walked the beat tonight on Highway 109.

[quote="Just Curious":29yccsc8][quote="Just Curious":29yccsc8]:cop: Hey Mod 360! :cop:

:?: How come things submitted by others are removed and then reposted as your doings. :?:

:!: A PART OF AMERICA DIED was posted by a Brother In Mourning. :!:

:!: I believe JUST A COP was posted by Just A Cop :!:

:!: I think that IF I KNEW was posted by Sad LEO :!:

:?: Can't come up with your own material? :?:

:?: Is this going to be deleted too? :?:

Hey Mod360. You did it again. How come?[/quote:29yccsc8]

If you look at all the posts MOD 360 is doing a great job sticking to the TOPICS. It is not that persons job to come up with material, just to watch the posts.And is what is happening in the Manors, His job will increase with EC'S DIVORCE TRIAL,, the KM situation which will surpise you with the outcome and evidence of her SHAM marriage and the KOJERK situation which is another topic for another day. Hey the "Scott Newton"fraternity WMPD family had a good day today, real good day so more to follow.[/quote:29yccsc8]

My bet is that MOD360 is someone that is no longer employed by WMPD and is actually wearing the color of this font.

[quote="Just Curious":11jovvsq][quote="Just Curious":11jovvsq]:cop: Hey Mod 360! :cop:

:?: How come things submitted by others are removed and then reposted as your doings. :?:

:!: A PART OF AMERICA DIED was posted by a Brother In Mourning. :!:

:!: I believe JUST A COP was posted by Just A Cop :!:

:!: I think that IF I KNEW was posted by Sad LEO :!:

:?: Can't come up with your own material? :?:

:?: Is this going to be deleted too? :?:

Hey Mod360. You did it again. How come?

If you look at all the posts MOD 360 is doing a great job sticking to the TOPICS. It is not that persons job to come up with material, just to watch the posts.And is what is happening in the Manors, His job will increase with EC'S DIVORCE TRIAL,, the KM situation which will surpise you with the outcome and evidence of her SHAM marriage and the KOJERK situation which is another topic for another day. Hey the "Scott Newton"fraternity WMPD family had a good day today, real good day so more to follow.[/quote:11jovvsq]

My bet is that MOD360 is someone that is no longer employed by WMPD and is actually wearing the color of this font. [/quote:11jovvsq]

My bet is that MOD360 is someone that is no longer employed by WMPD and is actually wearing the color of this font :cop: :cop: :cop:

[quote="Just Curious":oubbzeva][quote="Just Curious":oubbzeva]:cop: Hey Mod 360! :cop:

:?: How come things submitted by others are removed and then reposted as your doings. :?:

:!: A PART OF AMERICA DIED was posted by a Brother In Mourning. :!:

:!: I believe JUST A COP was posted by Just A Cop :!:

:!: I think that IF I KNEW was posted by Sad LEO :!:

:?: Can't come up with your own material? :?:

:?: Is this going to be deleted too? :?:

Hey Mod360. You did it again. How come?

If you look at all the posts MOD 360 is doing a great job sticking to the TOPICS. It is not that persons job to come up with material, just to watch the posts.And is what is happening in the Manors, His job will increase with EC'S DIVORCE TRIAL,, the KM situation which will surpise you with the outcome and evidence of her SHAM marriage and the KOJERK situation which is another topic for another day. Hey the "Scott Newton"fraternity WMPD family had a good day today, real good day so more to follow.[/quote:oubbzeva]

My bet is that MOD360 is someone that is no longer employed by WMPD and is actually wearing the color of this font. [/quote:oubbzeva]

wouldn't you like to know? :devil:

[quote="Get Real":21gs0iue][quote="Just Curious":21gs0iue][quote="Just Curious":21gs0iue]:cop: Hey Mod 360! :cop:

:?: How come things submitted by others are removed and then reposted as your doings. :?:

:!: A PART OF AMERICA DIED was posted by a Brother In Mourning. :!:

:!: I believe JUST A COP was posted by Just A Cop :!:

:!: I think that IF I KNEW was posted by Sad LEO :!:

:?: Can't come up with your own material? :?:

:?: Is this going to be deleted too? :?:

Hey Mod360. You did it again. How come?

If you look at all the posts MOD 360 is doing a great job sticking to the TOPICS. It is not that persons job to come up with material, just to watch the posts.And is what is happening in the Manors, His job will increase with EC'S DIVORCE TRIAL,, the KM situation which will surpise you with the outcome and evidence of her SHAM marriage and the KOJERK situation which is another topic for another day. Hey the "Scott Newton"fraternity WMPD family had a good day today, real good day so more to follow.[/quote:21gs0iue]

My bet is that MOD360 is someone that is no longer employed by WMPD and is actually wearing the color of this font. [/quote:21gs0iue]

wouldn't you like to know? :devil:[/quote:21gs0iue]

I think the MOD 360 job is to monitor. What evidence is their that he is coming up with material for the posts. If you think the Scott Newton " fraternity" had a good day prove it. Because if you are in the know, they have not, and will not have. Have you looked at the court records about KM and her sealed southern bell court records. I have copies of the "settlement" which will be another thread. Wow, she is a signal 20. Do you have a copy of KOJERKS military discharge where he was a chaplin having major problems with certain members of his platoon. Do You! And how do you increase your job situation based on your own divorce situation. The more you pound your wife and your daughter in court while you cheat on your spouse for a SECOND time increases your oppurtunity for promotion. What is up with your relationship with your daughter and in laws. I remember you last year talking in the locker room about your in laws as if they were your own family. Tony Alfero is a okay attorney but he has no problem destroying a family to obtain a settlement so if that is your objective you deserve what you get.

The Night Shift

Here I sit, staring ahead, the silence is my friend.
It is my time now, as the populace sleeps,
I listen, watch, and wait for something to attend
But the radio’s quiet save occasional beeps.
So I ease my back, in its armour encased,
And my belt, with equipment so tight.
My partner is writing about the car we just chased,
And I stare at a point in the night

The shadows make shapes of weird designs.
And my mind creates even more.
I hope and I pray I don’t miss the clear signs
Of parasites breaking the law.
We get out and walk, on rubber soled shoes,
With Maglights ready to flash
Our batons to hand, plus CS to choose.
To combat any villains so rash.

Our beat is dead quiet, the night is so clear,
But a noise to our right makes us look,
For the breaking of glass, so loud and yet near
Means someone is up to no good.
We target the spot, and start walking there fast.
As caution is our best friend,
For danger lurks close, like a ghost from the past,
Ready to rip, tear and rend.

A shop is found looted, its wares now bereft,
As the goods from inside are now gone.
Footsteps a-running away to the left -
The suspects are there, the chase is now on.
My partner and I start to run in pursuit,
Of the burglars now just up ahead.
They are afraid and laden with ill-gotten loot,
And wish now that they’d stayed in their beds.

I call in our chase, to the control back at base,
And they send out others to help.
We could see they were tiring and stepped up the pace,
One saw us, and dropped what he had, with a yelp.
As more sirens could be heard, very close by,
I started to sprint, not willing to share
The men, who looked tired as we drew nigh,
So we followed like dogs with our eyes on a hare.

Around that last bend, they were waiting for us,
But we were prepared for this too,
The fight was short, and they started to cuss
As we dealt with them without a to do,
We cuffed and we stuffed them, onto the ground,
And waited for transport to come.
We recovered our breath, and felt pretty good,
Despite that our legs felt all numb.

We returned all the goods, we found on the way,
To the shop from which they were pinched.
The owner was pleased, and at the end of the day,
He asked whether the thieves would be lynched.
We laughed and we joked, and took the men in,
And behind bars they now will certainly be.
For despite the fact that they’re as guilty as sin
They will be fed, clothed and housed now for free.

The Night Shift

Here I sit, staring ahead, the silence is my friend.
It is my time now, as the populace sleeps,
I listen, watch, and wait for something to attend
But the radio’s quiet save occasional beeps.
So I ease my back, in its armour encased,
And my belt, with equipment so tight.
My partner is writing about the car we just chased,
And I stare at a point in the night

The shadows make shapes of weird designs.
And my mind creates even more.
I hope and I pray I don’t miss the clear signs
Of parasites breaking the law.
We get out and walk, on rubber soled shoes,
With Maglights ready to flash
Our batons to hand, plus CS to choose.
To combat any villains so rash.

Our beat is dead quiet, the night is so clear,
But a noise to our right makes us look,
For the breaking of glass, so loud and yet near
Means someone is up to no good.
We target the spot, and start walking there fast.
As caution is our best friend,
For danger lurks close, like a ghost from the past,
Ready to rip, tear and rend.

A shop is found looted, its wares now bereft,
As the goods from inside are now gone.
Footsteps a-running away to the left -
The suspects are there, the chase is now on.
My partner and I start to run in pursuit,
Of the burglars now just up ahead.
They are afraid and laden with ill-gotten loot,
And wish now that they’d stayed in their beds.

I call in our chase, to the control back at base,
And they send out others to help.
We could see they were tiring and stepped up the pace,
One saw us, and dropped what he had, with a yelp.
As more sirens could be heard, very close by,
I started to sprint, not willing to share
The men, who looked tired as we drew nigh,
So we followed like dogs with our eyes on a hare.

Around that last bend, they were waiting for us,
But we were prepared for this too,
The fight was short, and they started to cuss
As we dealt with them without a to do,
We cuffed and we stuffed them, onto the ground,
And waited for transport to come.
We recovered our breath, and felt pretty good,
Despite that our legs felt all numb.

We returned all the goods, we found on the way,
To the shop from which they were pinched.
The owner was pleased, and at the end of the day,
He asked whether the thieves would be lynched.
We laughed and we joked, and took the men in,
And behind bars they now will certainly be.
For despite the fact that they’re as guilty as sin
They will be fed, clothed and housed now for free.

:? Funny how this was originally posted by me, Police Poet, in a separate topic. :?
:o Now it is here as being posted by Police Post. :o
:?: WHY? :?:

It was probably moved because it is a pain in the arse to read all these long winded prayers and poems that nobody but you like. So now if somebody has no life they can come to one thread to read all this #@$%^%$

"A Cop on the Take"

First he takes the oath.
Now look at all he takes -

He takes it in stride when people call him pig.
He takes time to stop and talk to children.
He takes your verbal abuse while giving you a ticket you really deserve.
He takes on creeps you would be afraid to even look at.

He takes time away from his family to keep you safe.
He takes your injured children to the hospital.
He takes the graveyard shift without complaint because it's his turn.
He takes his life into his hands daily.

He takes you home when your car breaks down.
He takes time to explain why both you headlights have to work.
He takes the job no one else wants - telling you a loved one has died.
He takes criminals to jail.

He takes in sights that would make you cry.
Sometimes he cries too, but He takes it anyway because someone has to.
If he is lucky, He takes retirement.
He takes memories to bed each night that you couldn't bear for even one day.

Sometimes, He Takes a bullet.

And, yes, occasionally he may take a free cup of coffee.
Then one day he pays for all he has taken,
and God takes him.

by

Wayne A. Linney
Portsmouth VA Police

It was probably moved because it is a pain in the arse to read all these long winded prayers and poems that nobody but you like. So now if somebody has no life they can come to one thread to read all this #@$%^%$

The poems and stories are liked by many. You just happen to be showing your immaturity and ignorance. I feel sorry for those that have to work with someone like you. You need to so sme growing up.

It was probably moved because it is a pain in the arse to read all these long winded prayers and poems that nobody but you like. So now if somebody has no life they can come to one thread to read all this #@$%^%$

The poems and stories are liked by many. You just happen to be showing your immaturity and ignorance. I feel sorry for those that have to work with someone like you. You need to so sme growing up.

Is this the guy that can't keep it in his pants, cheating on his wife? Or is this the guy that teachs ethics but has none?

It was probably moved because it is a pain in the arse to read all these long winded prayers and poems that nobody but you like. So now if somebody has no life they can come to one thread to read all this #@$%^%$

The poems and stories are liked by many. You just happen to be showing your immaturity and ignorance. I feel sorry for those that have to work with someone like you. You need to so sme growing up.

Great. Now you have one place you can go to read them. Its too bad there is not a thread on here that will help you get a life.

"Yes Me the Lousy Cop"

Well Mr. Citizen, I guess you have me figured out. I seem to fit neatly into the category you place me in. I'm stereotyped, characterized, standardized, classified, grouped, and always typical. I'm the "lousy cop." Unfortunately, the reverse isn't true. I can never figure you out.

From birth you teach your children that I am the bogeyman, and then you're shocked when they identify me with my traditional enemy, the criminal. You accuse me of coddling juveniles, until I catch your kid doing something. You may take an hour for lunch, and have several coffee breaks each day, but point me out as a loafer if you see me having just one cup.

You pride yourself on your polished manners, but think nothing of interrupting my meals at noon with your troubles. You raise hell about the guy who cuts you off in traffic, but let me catch you doing the same thing and I'm picking on you. You know all the traffic laws, but never got a single ticket you deserved. You shout "foul" if you observe me driving fast enroute to an emergency call, but literally raise hell if I take more than ten seconds responding to your call!!!

You call it "part of the job" if someone strikes me, but it's "police brutality" if I strike back. You wouldn't think of telling your dentist how to pull a badly decayed tooth, or your doctor how to take out your appendix, but you are always willing to give me a few pointers on law enforcement. You talk to me in a manner and use language that would assure a bloody nose from anyone else, but you expect me to stand and take it without batting an eye.

You cry, "Something has to be done about all the crime!" but you can't be bothered with getting involved.

You've got no use for me at all, but, of course, it's OK if I change a tire for your wife, or deliver your baby in the back seat of my patrol car on the way to the hospital, or save your son's life with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or work many hours over-time to find your lost daughter.

So Mr. Citizen, you stand there on your soapbox and rant and rave about the way I do my job, calling me every name in the book, but never stop a minute to think that your property, your family, or maybe your life might depend on one thing, ME, or one if my buddies.

By

Author Unknown

It was probably moved because it is a pain in the arse to read all these long winded prayers and poems that nobody but you like. So now if somebody has no life they can come to one thread to read all this #@$%^%$

The poems and stories are liked by many. You just happen to be showing your immaturity and ignorance. I feel sorry for those that have to work with someone like you. You need to so sme growing up.

If I want to read a story I will buy a book at Barnes & Noble. If I want to read a poem, I will stop by Aimee's house on N.E. 20th Ave where I am sure she will write one. Suggest others do the same.

WRITTEN BY A FORMER POLICE OFFICER

In 1974 when I first joined the police department, I new there would be special occasions my family would spend without me. Knowing that fact didn’t make the task any easier. The celebrations I missed that first year's depressed me and sometimes made me feel bitter. Working on Christmas Eve was always the worst.

On Christmas Eve in 1977, I learned that blessing can come disguised as misfortune, and honor is more than just a word.

I was riding one-man patrol on the 4x12 shift. The night was cold. Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of the holiday: families packing their cars with presents, beautifully decorated trees in living room windows and roofs adorned with tiny sleighs. I all added to my holiday funk.

The evening had been relatively quiet; there were calls for barking dogs and a residential false burglar alarm. There was nothing to make the night pass any quicker. I thought of my own family and sunk further into depression.

Shortly after 2200 hours I got a radio call to the home of an elderly, terminally ill man. I parked my patrol car in front of a simple Cape Cod style home. First aid kit in hand, I walked up the short path to the front door. As I approached, a woman who seemed to be about 80 years old opened the door. He's in here she said, leading me to a back bedroom.

We passed through a living room that was furnished in a style I had come to associate with older people. The sofa has an afghan blanket draped over its back and a dark, solid Queen Anne chair say next to an unused fireplace. The mantle was cluttered with an eccentric mix of several photos, some ceramic figurines and an antique clock. A floor lamp provided soft lighting.

We entered a small bedroom where a frail looking man lay in bed with a blanket pulled up to his chin. He wore a blank stare on his ashen, skeletal face. His breathing was shallow and labored. He was barely alive.

The trappings of illness all around his bed. The nightstand was littered with a large number of pill vials. An oxygen bottle stood nearby. Its plastic hose, with facemask attached rested on the blanket.

I asked the old woman why she called the police. She simply shrugged and nodded sadly toward her husband, indicating it was his request. I looked at him and he stared intently into my eyes. He seemed relaxed now. I didn’t understand the suddenly calm expression on his face.

I looked around the room again. A dresser stood along the wall to the left of the bed. On it was the usual memorabilia: ornate perfume bottles, white porcelain pin case, and a wooden jewelry case. There were also several photos in simple frames. One caught my eye and I walked closer to the dresser for a closer look. The picture showed a young man dressed in a police uniform. It was unmistakably a photo of the man in bed. I knew then why I was there.

I looked at the old man and he motioned with his hand toward the side of the bed. I walked over and stood beside him. He slid a thin arm from under the covers and took my hand. Soon, I felt his hand go limp, I looked at his face. There was no fear there. I saw only peace.

He knew he was dying; he was aware his time was very near. I know now that he was afraid of what was about to happen and he wanted the protection of a fellow cop on his journey. A caring God had seen to it that his child would be delivered safely to him. The honor of being his escort fell to me.

When I left at the end of my tour that night, the temperature had seemed to have risen considerably, and all the holiday displays I a saw on the way home made me smile.

I no longer feel sorry for myself for having to work on Christmas Eve. I have chosen an honorable profession. I pray that when it's my turn to leave this world here will be a cop there to hold my hand and remind me that I have nothing to fear.

I wish all my brother's and sister's who have to work this Christmas Eve all the Joy and warmth of the Season.

This is a true story is about a special little boy and some special firefighters. It could just as easily apply to law enforcement officers. Think what a difference you could make in someone's life.



In Phoenix, Arizona, a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up & fulfill all his dreams. Now, that was no longer possible. The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true. She took her son's hand and asked, "Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?" Mommy, "I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up." Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true."

Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix, Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and Asked if it might be possible to give her 6 year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine. Fireman Bob said, "Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots." "They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix, so we can get them fast."

Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck. Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's' van, and even the fire chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.

One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition. The chief replied, "We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire?" "It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time.
And will you open the window to his room?"

About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window-------- 16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him. With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, "Chief am I really a fireman now?" "Billy, you are, and the Head Chief, Jesus, is holding your hand," the chief said With those words, Billy smiled and said, "I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and The angels have been singing.." He closed his eyes one last time.

My instructions were to give this to people that I wanted God to bless and I picked you. Please pass this to people you want to be blessed. This story is powerful. Uplifting stories are one of the best gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards, let's continue to uplift one another.

Is it that idiot chief writing those poems because he wants to hide how everyone hates him ? Or is it that loser that is cheating on his wife and wasting the tax payers money with his nonsense. We are tired of the poems.

Is it that idiot chief writing those poems because he wants to hide how everyone hates him ? Or is it that loser that is cheating on his wife and wasting the tax payers money with his nonsense. We are tired of the poems.

WRONG ON BOTH COUNTS!!!
It is someone else!
I am not stopping either!

Try decaf!

Not Just A Symbol

The young man came forward, his face drawn and sad And he held out his hand, displaying his badge. The old chief rocked slowly and put his hands in his lap And shook his head gently, and said, "What is this crap?"

The young cop sniffed, and from his eye wiped a tear, "I've given you my best for almost one year. But I make no difference, as I once thought I could, There is far more evil out there than is good."

The old chief stared up into the young rookie's eyes And tried to recall something clever and wise. "Tell me" he said, to the once eager young cop. "How many DUI's in a year have you popped?"

"Forty-two," the rookie replied with great pride. "And had you not, how many more might have died? It's not how many are arrested, now, is it? It's how many less accident scenes you must visit."

The kid hung his head, and flexed his strong hands, "But, sir," he said, softly," You don't understand. "We're greatly outnumbered, the drugs are the worst, The schools are like hell and the streets , they are cursed."

"Dealers breed like darn roaches. On the kids, they all prey, And even when arrested, they are out the next day." The old chief set his jaw, and tapped a red finger, And on the young cop, his eyes sadly lingered.

"If one little kid cannot get connected, If one pregnant junkie finds the strength to reject it, If one lousy addict decides he can beat it, If one crack-head in a million says I just don't need it...

Then you...have removed his greatest temptation, If only for a night, it might be be his salvation, And wars are not won by those who say: Screw it. They are won by the men who decide they can do it.

The rookie pulled up an old wooden chair And running a hand through his shock of brown hair, "But what about the children and poor battered wives? Why can't we stop it and fix all those lives?"

"Each time you set foot in that same, run-down house Each time you go back to bust that same dirty louse, For the children and wife, the violence has ceased, If for only a few hours, you offer them peace."

"You cannot dictate their sad chosen path, You cannot stop his booze-laden wrath, You can't pack their belongings and cart them away But you can prevent murder for just one more day."

"But sir," he said, his heart heavy like lead, "I know there are dirtbags who wish I were dead, But the public, the press, the politicians fling mud, And who says thank you when we shed some blood?"

The chief pursed his lips, his answer unknown For he knew it was this pain that hurt to the bone, "There's no easy answers for the ache that you feel, But appreciation and praise just ain't part of the deal."

"The respect, gratitude and admiration, too Will not come from people who can't do what we do. You ask for a sense of honor and pride, My advice, my son, is to look deep down inside."

The young cop stared down at the badge in his hand And he knew he would not resign as he planned, For he saw the badge now as not just something he does, It was not just a symbol...It's what he was.

~~ Author Unknown ~~

Tribute to GG

The bald cop came forward with his notebook in hand, ready to hand it over to the chief. Chief, sitting on his $4,000.00 dollar chair said “What’s up Kojerk”?

Kojerk, wiping the tears flowing from his eyes, said “I have screwed over as many officers as I can but it makes no difference as I thought it would. There are so many more to backstab and just not enough time”.

Chief stared into Kojerks eyes as he tried to recall something clever and wise. “Tell me” he said, to the faithful backstabbing cop. “How many officers have you screwed over this year”?
“Four or five”, Kojerk replied with great pride. “And had you not, how many more would I have had to work harder to screw over for no reasons”?

Kojerk hung his head high and flexed his strong hands, “But sir”, he said, softly, “you don’t understand. “I am greatly outnumbered. There are far to many good cops in this organization and it is getting extremely difficult to screw anyone over. There are very few entries in my notebook”.

“Good cops breed like roaches” said chief. “Even after being accused of wrongdoing, they are back up the next day doing a great job”. The ole chief set his jaw, and tapped a red finger.

"If I can take one good cop down. If I can deteriorate a complete police department. If I can put in place a dysfunctional administration, then you have done your job".

Kojerk pulled up an old wooden chair and stroking his bald head, “But what about all the other good cops in this department? Why can’t I continue to screw them over and ruin their lives”?

“Each time you set foot in the station. Each time you back up a fellow officer on a call. If only a few entries are made in your little black notebook, you offer me peace and some good ammunition on yet another unsuspecting officer”.

“You can not dictate their chosen path. You can not make them bad officers. You can not bring their spirits down. But you can continue to lie, cheat and bring me some information, truth or not, it makes no difference”.

“But sir”, he said, his heart pounding heavily, “I know there are good cops, me not being one of them, wish that I would do something more suitable of my talents like being a bag boy at Publix, and I am just confused”.

The chief pursed his lips, his answer unknown for he knew that Kojerk was absolutely worthless as a cop and really should submit his application with Publix, stated, I am running out of arse kissers and I really need you to suck up to me”.

"The respect, gratitude and admiration, too will not come from good cops. You ask for a sense of honor and pride. My advice, my son, is to look deep down inside and follow your leaders who have no honor, loyalty, honesty or pride, just in it for the big money"


Kojerk stared down at his notebook in his hand and he knew he would not resign as he planned, For he saw the notebook now as not just something he does, It was not just a symbol...It's what he was.


Author: Joe Mama :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:

Police poet is starting to FREAK ME OUT. I'm thinking 72 hour evaluation.

Police poet is starting to FREAK ME OUT. I'm thinking 72 hour evaluation.

What is the problem with this person?

The Making of a Policeman...

A policeman is a composite of what all men are, a mingling of saint, just and deity. He, of all men, is at the same time the most needed and the most unwanted person. He must be such a diplomat that he can settle differences between individuals so that each will think he won. But if a policeman is friendly, he's a flirt, if he's not, he's a grouch. He must be able to start breathing, stop bleeding, tie splints and above all be sure the victim goes home without a limp or expect to be sued. He must know every gun, draw on the run, and hit where it doesn't hurt. He must be able to whip two men twice his size and half his age without damaging his uniform and without being brutal. If you hit him, he's a coward; if he hits you, he's a bully. He must know where all the sin is and not partake. The policeman must chase down leads to a dead end, stake out ten nights to find one witness who saw it happen, but refuses to remember. He must also be a minister, a social worker, an information center, a tough guy and a gentleman. But let a policeman get into trouble and the cry "crooked cop" is shouted. Then let a policeman risk his life and the same guy will say, "He's just doing his job."

What "are" policeman made of?

Author - Paul Harvey

WHEN GOD MADE POLICE OFFICERS...

When the Lord was creating police officers, he was into his sixth day of working overtime when an angel appeared and said you sure are doing a lot of fiddling around on this one. And the Lord said, Have you read the specs on this order?

A police officer has to be able to run five miles through alleys in the dark, scale walls, enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch, and not wrinkle his uniform. He has to be able to sit in an undercover car all day on a stakeout, cover a homicide scene that night, canvass the neighborhood for witnesses, and testify in court the next day. He has to be in top physical condition at all times, running on black coffee and half-eaten meals. And he has to have six pairs of hands.

The angel shook her head slowly and said, Six pairs of hands... no way. It's not the hands that are causing me problems, said the Lord, it's the three pairs of eyes an officer has to have. That's on the standard model asked the angel. The Lord nodded. One pair that sees through a bulge in a pocket before he asks, May I see what's in there, sir? (When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job.) Another pair here in the side of his head for his partners' safety. And another pair of eyes here in front that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say, “You'll be all right ma'am”, when he knows it isn't so.

Lord, said the angel, touching his sleeve, why don't you rest and work on this tomorrow. I can't, said the Lord, I already have a model that can talk a 250-pound drunk into a patrol car without incident and feed a family of five on a civil service paycheck.

The angel circled the model of the police officer very slowly, Can it think she asked. You bet, said the Lord. It can tell you the elements of a hundred crimes; recite Miranda warnings in its sleep; detain, investigate, search, and arrest a gang member on the street in less time than it takes five learned judges to debate the legality of the stop... and still it keeps its sense of humor.

This officer also has phenomenal personal control. He can deal with crime scenes painted in hell, coax a confession from a child abuser, comfort a murder victim's family, and then read in the daily paper how law enforcement isn't sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the police officer. There's a leak, she pronounced. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model. That's not a leak, said the lord, it's a tear. What's the tear for asked the angel. It's for bottled-up emotions, for fallen comrades, for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the American flag, for justice. You're a genius, said the angel. The Lord looked somberly at the angle and said. I'm no genius; I didn't put the tear in his eye!

WHEN GOD MADE POLICE OFFICERS...

When the Lord was creating police officers, he was into his sixth day of working overtime when an angel appeared and said you sure are doing a lot of fiddling around on this one. And the Lord said, Have you read the specs on this order?

A police officer has to be able to run five miles through alleys in the dark, scale walls, enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch, and not wrinkle his uniform. He has to be able to sit in an undercover car all day on a stakeout, cover a homicide scene that night, canvass the neighborhood for witnesses, and testify in court the next day. He has to be in top physical condition at all times, running on black coffee and half-eaten meals. And he has to have six pairs of hands.

The angel shook her head slowly and said, Six pairs of hands... no way. It's not the hands that are causing me problems, said the Lord, it's the three pairs of eyes an officer has to have. That's on the standard model asked the angel. The Lord nodded. One pair that sees through a bulge in a pocket before he asks, May I see what's in there, sir? (When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job.) Another pair here in the side of his head for his partners' safety. And another pair of eyes here in front that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say, “You'll be all right ma'am”, when he knows it isn't so.

Lord, said the angel, touching his sleeve, why don't you rest and work on this tomorrow. I can't, said the Lord, I already have a model that can talk a 250-pound drunk into a patrol car without incident and feed a family of five on a civil service paycheck.

The angel circled the model of the police officer very slowly, Can it think she asked. You bet, said the Lord. It can tell you the elements of a hundred crimes; recite Miranda warnings in its sleep; detain, investigate, search, and arrest a gang member on the street in less time than it takes five learned judges to debate the legality of the stop... and still it keeps its sense of humor.

This officer also has phenomenal personal control. He can deal with crime scenes painted in hell, coax a confession from a child abuser, comfort a murder victim's family, and then read in the daily paper how law enforcement isn't sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the police officer. There's a leak, she pronounced. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model. That's not a leak, said the lord, it's a tear. What's the tear for asked the angel. It's for bottled-up emotions, for fallen comrades, for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the American flag, for justice. You're a genius, said the angel. The Lord looked somberly at the angle and said. I'm no genius; I didn't put the tear in his eye!

Needs a life.Quckly.

Ode To A Cop

The policeman stood and faced his God, which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining, just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, policeman, how shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek? To your God, have you been true?"

The policeman, squared his shoulders and said "No sir, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry a badge can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays and at times my talk was rough,
and sometimes I've been violent, because the streets are awfully tough.

But I never took a penny, that wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime when the bills just got too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help though at times I shook with fear,
and sometimes, please forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place among the people here.
They never wanted me around except to calm their fears.

But if you have a place for me here, well... it need not be too grand.
I never expected or had too much so if You don't... I'll understand.

There was silence all around the room where the saint's respectfully stood.
As the policeman waited quietly, for the judgment... bad or good.

"Step forward now, policeman, you've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on heaven's streets, You've done your time in hell."

The Making of a Policeman...

A policeman is a composite of what all men are, a mingling of saint, just and deity. He, of all men, is at the same time the most needed and the most unwanted person. He must be such a diplomat that he can settle differences between individuals so that each will think he won. But if a policeman is friendly, he's a flirt, if he's not, he's a grouch. He must be able to start breathing, stop bleeding, tie splints and above all be sure the victim goes home without a limp or expect to be sued. He must know every gun, draw on the run, and hit where it doesn't hurt. He must be able to whip two men twice his size and half his age without damaging his uniform and without being brutal. If you hit him, he's a coward; if he hits you, he's a bully. He must know where all the sin is and not partake. The policeman must chase down leads to a dead end, stake out ten nights to find one witness who saw it happen, but refuses to remember. He must also be a minister, a social worker, an information center, a tough guy and a gentleman. But let a policeman get into trouble and the cry "crooked cop" is shouted. Then let a policeman risk his life and the same guy will say, "He's just doing his job."

What "are" policeman made of?

Author - Paul Harvey

POLICEMAN'S PRAYER TO ST. MICHAEL

St. Michael, Heaven's glorious Commissioner of Police, who once so neatly and successfully cleared God's premises of all it's undesirables, look with kindly and professional eye on your earthly force. Give us cool heads, stout hearts, hard punches, an uncanny flair for investigation, and wise judgment. Make us the terror of burglars, the friend of children and law-abiding citizens, kind to strangers, polite to bores, strict with law-breakers, and impervious to temptations. You know, St. Michael, from your own experiences with the devil, that the policeman's lot on Earth is not always a happy one; but your sense of duty that so pleased God, your hard knocks that so surprised the devil, and your angelic self-control give us inspiration. And when we lay down our nightsticks, enroll us in your Heavenly Force, where we will be as proud to guard the throne of God, as we have been to guard the city of men. Amen.

PROFESSIONAL COURTESY
"Professional courtesy begins with the officer being stopped,

not with the officer making the stop."



Since the days of Wyatt Earp there has been an unwritten but etched-in-stone doctrine which we call professional courtesy.

Under this doctrine law enforcement officers are suppose to take care of each other. It’s not just about traffic tickets either. It is much more than that.

Throughout this article, the words “cop” and “officer” are used frequently. They refer to all law enforcement officers including State Troopers, Sheriffs and Corrections officers, Federal officers, retired officers, municipals, etc.

None of us on the job today created professional courtesy. We inherited it from those who came before us, and we’ll hand it down to those who come after us. Law enforcement is a culture and is no different from other cultures. We have certain rules, certain language, certain music, certain days and periods of remembrance and celebration, and, for the most part, we enjoy being around each other. Professional courtesy is just part of our culture.

Several years ago during a trip up to Hoboken with some guys from work, we stopped off at the bar district which overlooks Manhattan. I forget the name of it. When we couldn’t get a parking spot we asked some Hoboken cops for guidance. They put us in an unauthorized area behind their police car so we wouldn’t have to walk and so they could watch our car for the night. The guys and girls at Newark Airport Port Authority PD will let you put your car in their lot and shuffle you to and fro when manpower allows. If your wife and kids break down in our town, we’ll get them back to you in one piece even if it means setting up a three-county leap frog with the departments in between.

The bottom line is that we go the extra mile for each other and extend courtesies that we couldn’t normally do for the public. I may have never met you, but you know if you need a favor, just ask.

I know the same.

This is not to say that we don’t go above and beyond for the public, because we do. It’s just that most of us understand that as part of an often alienated group, it is important that we stick by each other.

Taking care of other cops doesn’t stop at a state border either. If you’re not familiar with New York City and you flag down a radio car for directions, tell them who you are and where you’re going. If it’s in their sector and they're not busy, I’ll bet that 9 out of 10 times they’ll throw you in the back seat and shuttle you to the front door.

Professional courtesy, however, is not diplomatic immunity. In the old days there were no limits to what cops were suppose to do for each other. Those guys though didn’t make the salaries we do today. There aren’t many readily available jobs with the money, benefits, and pensions we have, so risking your job to fix a traffic ticket is no longer part of the equation.

If after returning to your car you find a parking ticket, pay the friggin thing. Don’t risk your job and the job of the officer who gave it to you.

In New Jersey, or at least in some towns, in order to withdraw a ticket you have to write a letter to the judge requesting permission for the dismissal. You also have to explain why you want to have it dismissed. If you indicate that it was because you wrote the wrong statute, you will be asked to produce the ticket you issued with the correct statute. All tickets are numbered and tracked, and if a summons is not turned in, you’ll receive a letter from the court asking you to document it’s disposition. Behind-the-scenes chicanery takes down peoples careers and lives and, often, when you see some officer’s career self destruct, it is for some stupid, minor violation. It’s just not worth it.

Also, if you’re drunk and end up causing a three-car accident with injuries, you can’t expect to be whisked out the back door of the scene. Doing 75 MPH in a 25 MPH school zone is nothing less than abuse. When a spouse signs a domestic criminal complaint, hands are tied. An arrest has to be made.

There is a very important element of this doctrine too which is too often overlooked.

Professional courtesy begins with the officer being stopped, not with the officer making the stop.

Most road officers have a story of a fellow officer they stopped who immediately caught an attitude. There is no reason for this.

By far, the majority of us subscribe to the "doctrine" of professional courtesy, and most of us would agree that committing crimes or severely abusing your privileges is out of bounds. One could probably speed on the Parkway from Cape May County to Bergen County and not receive a summons. This doesn’t mean we should do it.

It's important to remember too that there are always two sides to every story.

If your relative or courtesy card gets written, give the issuer the benefit of the doubt before declaring war. Sometimes people don’t produce the card or identify who they are. Other times their conduct was absolutely deserving of the citation, and they're only telling you half of the story. Then, there are those situations that don’t fall into either of these categories. These are the instances where the issuer just doesn’t care. Unfortunately, this crap happens a lot in some southern states. The really disturbing part is that these same officers wouldn't hesitate to call you at your job asking for a favor. That is complete hypocrisy. Fortunately, this group is by far the minority.

Oh, one final note.

There is one last group whom should not go without mention. While they may not fall under the doctrine of professional courtesy, they are somewhat relevant to this topic in general. In fifteen years as a police officer, I have never, and absent extraordinary circumstances, would never give a minor summons to a veteran. These older guys from WWII, Korea, Viet Nam and even the more recent conflicts have been to places geographically and mentally that most of us couldn’t even imagine. In a way, they’re even above professional courtesy. Most of us have never served a day in a military uniform, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try and understand and appreciate this very special people.

And please, "Professional courtesy begins with the officer being stopped, not with the officer making the stop."

NJLawman.com

There once was RP from Fort Lauderdale
Whose ego was larger than his underwear
He came into town
Turned the PD upside down
And did this all without a care

RP brings his sidekick D
Who does only what is told, which is the key
She sits at her desk
Can not be a pest
And is ordered to screw with you and me

How about that EC
Who got into trouble because of his PP
He has relations with a worker
Who really just looks like a hooker
Believe me, she is nothing to see

This now brings us to Kojerk
Who will sit back only to lurk
He has his notebook in hand
Hoping to see a rule breaker he can land
But does not realize that he isn’t worth a crap (So what if it doesn’t rhyme)

There once was RP from Fort Lauderdale
Whose ego was larger than his underwear
He came into town
Turned the PD upside down
And did this all without a care

RP brings his sidekick D
Who does only what is told, which is the key
She sits at her desk
Can not be a pest
And is ordered to screw with you and me

How about that EC
Who got into trouble because of his PP
He has relations with a worker
Who really just looks like a hooker
Believe me, she is nothing to see

This now brings us to Kojerk
Who will sit back only to lurk
He has his notebook in hand
Hoping to see a rule breaker he can land
But does not realize that he isn’t worth a crap (So what if it doesn’t rhyme)

YOU ARENT A VERY GOOD POET EITHER....IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.. . :P

There once was RP from Fort Lauderdale
Whose ego was larger than his underwear
He came into town
Turned the PD upside down
And did this all without a care

RP brings his sidekick D
Who does only what is told, which is the key
She sits at her desk
Can not be a pest
And is ordered to screw with you and me

How about that EC
Who got into trouble because of his PP
He has relations with a worker
Who really just looks like a hooker
Believe me, she is nothing to see

This now brings us to Kojerk
Who will sit back only to lurk
He has his notebook in hand
Hoping to see a rule breaker he can land
But does not realize that he isn’t worth a crap (So what if it doesn’t rhyme)

THIS WAS NOT DONE BY THE REAL POLICE POET !!!

There once was RP from Fort Lauderdale
Whose ego was larger than his underwear
He came into town
Turned the PD upside down
And did this all without a care

RP brings his sidekick D
Who does only what is told, which is the key
She sits at her desk
Can not be a pest
And is ordered to screw with you and me

How about that EC
Who got into trouble because of his PP
He has relations with a worker
Who really just looks like a hooker
Believe me, she is nothing to see

This now brings us to Kojerk
Who will sit back only to lurk
He has his notebook in hand
Hoping to see a rule breaker he can land
But does not realize that he isn’t worth a crap (So what if it doesn’t rhyme)

YOU ARENT A VERY GOOD POET EITHER....IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.. . :P

THIS WAS NOT DONE BY THE REAL POLICE POET !!!

Rose are red
violets are blue
They hate the cops
Do you?

[quote="Police Poet":1378bx38]There once was RP from Fort Lauderdale
Whose ego was larger than his underwear
He came into town
Turned the PD upside down
And did this all without a care

RP brings his sidekick D
Who does only what is told, which is the key
She sits at her desk
Can not be a pest
And is ordered to screw with you and me

How about that EC
Who got into trouble because of his PP
He has relations with a worker
Who really just looks like a hooker
Believe me, she is nothing to see

This now brings us to Kojerk
Who will sit back only to lurk
He has his notebook in hand
Hoping to see a rule breaker he can land
But does not realize that he isn’t worth a crap (So what if it doesn’t rhyme)

YOU ARENT A VERY GOOD POET EITHER....IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.. . :P

THIS WAS NOT DONE BY THE REAL POLICE POET !!![/quote:1378bx38]
Yes it was. Thank you. I am stuck with this private security force. To the Wilton Manors taxpayers looking at this sight, it is much more than the PBA contract. It is how we are treated by the current police chief rick perez. The PD used to be proactive but it is now reactive because of the current police chief. PLEASE help us and get rid of this waste of a human being. HE DOES NOT BELONG IN THIS CITY .

Rose are red
violets are blue
They hate the cops
Do you?

ROSE ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE..
WE LOVE THE COPS
WE JUST HATE YOU....... :P

Roses ae red
violets are blue
Roses your clueless
now back to you.

[quote=Anonymous][quote="Police Poet":3k5942jd]There once was RP from Fort Lauderdale
Whose ego was larger than his underwear
He came into town
Turned the PD upside down
And did this all without a care

RP brings his sidekick D
Who does only what is told, which is the key
She sits at her desk
Can not be a pest
And is ordered to screw with you and me

How about that EC
Who got into trouble because of his PP
He has relations with a worker
Who really just looks like a hooker
Believe me, she is nothing to see

This now brings us to Kojerk
Who will sit back only to lurk
He has his notebook in hand
Hoping to see a rule breaker he can land
But does not realize that he isn’t worth a crap (So what if it doesn’t rhyme)

YOU ARENT A VERY GOOD POET EITHER....IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.. . :P

THIS WAS NOT DONE BY THE REAL POLICE POET !!![/quote:3k5942jd]
Yes it was. Thank you. I am stuck with this private security force. To the Wilton Manors taxpayers looking at this sight, it is much more than the PBA contract. It is how we are treated by the current police chief rick perez. The PD used to be proactive but it is now reactive because of the current police chief. PLEASE help us and get rid of this waste of a human being. HE DOES NOT BELONG IN THIS CITY .[/quote:3k5942jd]

So, what did he specifically do to you or to your job?

[quote="The Real Police Poet":q7a0h02t][quote=Anonymous][quote="Police Poet":q7a0h02t]There once was RP from Fort Lauderdale
Whose ego was larger than his underwear
He came into town
Turned the PD upside down
And did this all without a care

RP brings his sidekick D
Who does only what is told, which is the key
She sits at her desk
Can not be a pest
And is ordered to screw with you and me

How about that EC
Who got into trouble because of his PP
He has relations with a worker
Who really just looks like a hooker
Believe me, she is nothing to see

This now brings us to Kojerk
Who will sit back only to lurk
He has his notebook in hand
Hoping to see a rule breaker he can land
But does not realize that he isn’t worth a crap (So what if it doesn’t rhyme)

YOU ARENT A VERY GOOD POET EITHER....IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.. . :P

THIS WAS NOT DONE BY THE REAL POLICE POET !!![/quote:q7a0h02t]
Yes it was. Thank you. I am stuck with this private security force. To the Wilton Manors taxpayers looking at this sight, it is much more than the PBA contract. It is how we are treated by the current police chief rick perez. The PD used to be proactive but it is now reactive because of the current police chief. PLEASE help us and get rid of this waste of a human being. HE DOES NOT BELONG IN THIS CITY .[/quote:q7a0h02t]

So, what did he specifically do to you or to your job?[/quote:q7a0h02t]

Would you like my name and social security number too? RP would love to see who is posting here. Aint gonna happen.

What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...

What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
Sounds like the only "Puff" around here is you.
Plus we know that if we did post our names with the complaints, you would do NOTHING, because you like to see what he is doing.
So go find a "puff" site you can post to, your not welcome here.

What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
Sounds like the only "Puff" around here is you.
Plus we know that if we did post our names with the complaints, you would do NOTHING, because you like to see what he is doing.
So go find a "puff" site you can post to, your not welcome here.
First, you have to get over your 3rd grade education: learn how to write. Where you used a possesive pronoun "your" you meant to use a contraction "you're"... Do your ex-WMPD cohorts share the same level of intellect and education? Now it becomes clear why you have no recourse to sustain an intelligent argument with anybody, or completely inept to formulate a complaint to the proper channels... 3rd graders!

What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
Well MR intellect, Lets check out your first sentence shall we. Did he FOUND out all your little games? NICE SENTENCE!!!
Or how about: Do you expect the fairy GOOD mother etc...
Me thinks you should stick with the "puff" thing. You’re much better at it.
LOOOOOOOOOOOOSER

[quote="Antoine J de Sucre":26zuoatv]What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
Sounds like the only "Puff" around here is you.
Plus we know that if we did post our names with the complaints, you would do NOTHING, because you like to see what he is doing.
So go find a "puff" site you can post to, your not welcome here.
First, you have to get over your 3rd grade education: learn how to write. Where you used a possesive pronoun "your" you meant to use a contraction "you're"... Do your ex-WMPD cohorts share the same level of intellect and education? Now it becomes clear why you have no recourse to sustain an intelligent argument with anybody, or completely inept to formulate a complaint to the proper channels... 3rd graders![/quote:26zuoatv]
Oh and by the way. YOU ARE missing an "s" in possessive. On top of that, you might want to re-read your last sentence. I'm sure you'll agree it makes no sense, puff daddy.

[quote="Antoine J de Sucre":blt2pdzi]What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
Sounds like the only "Puff" around here is you.
Plus we know that if we did post our names with the complaints, you would do NOTHING, because you like to see what he is doing.
So go find a "puff" site you can post to, your not welcome here.
First, you have to get over your 3rd grade education: learn how to write. Where you used a possesive pronoun "your" you meant to use a contraction "you're"... Do your ex-WMPD cohorts share the same level of intellect and education? Now it becomes clear why you have no recourse to sustain an intelligent argument with anybody, or completely inept to formulate a complaint to the proper channels... 3rd graders!
Oh and by the way. YOU ARE missing an "s" in possessive. On top of that, you might want to re-read your last sentence. I'm sure you'll agree it makes no sense, puff daddy.[/quote:blt2pdzi]


That must be because I AM A STUPID MORON!!!!!

Rose are red
violets are blue
They hate the cops
Do you?

ROSE ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE..
WE LOVE THE COPS
WE JUST HATE YOU....... :P

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I AM THE COPS
NOT YOU

Rose are red
violets are blue
They hate the cops
Do you?

ROSE ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE..
WE LOVE THE COPS
WE JUST HATE YOU....... :P

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I AM THE COPS
NOT YOU


Rose are Red
Viloets are Blue
How do you know
IM NOT one of YOU........

Rose are red
violets are blue
They hate the cops
Do you?

ROSE ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE..
WE LOVE THE COPS
WE JUST HATE YOU....... :P

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I AM THE COPS
NOT YOU


Rose are Red
Viloets are Blue
How do you know
IM NOT one of YOU........

You may wear the same uniform
You may drive the same car
But do we think you’re a cop
We laugh; Hardy Har Har

You might have our same radio
Have a night stick and gun
But one thing we do know
FROM a real call you will RUN

You may suck up to the chief
You might kiss his large arse
But you think you’re a cop
We know that’s a farce

So I’ll finish by saying
Your not one of me
And suffice it to say
You never will be.

Rose are red
violets are blue
They hate the cops
Do you?

ROSE ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE..
WE LOVE THE COPS
WE JUST HATE YOU....... :P

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I AM THE COPS
NOT YOU


Rose are Red
Viloets are Blue
How do you know
IM NOT one of YOU........

You may wear the same uniform
You may drive the same car
But do we think you’re a cop
We laugh; Hardy Har Har

You might have our same radio
Have a night stick and gun
But one thing we do know
FROM a real call you will RUN

You may suck up to the chief
You might kiss his large arse
But you think you’re a cop
We know that’s a farce

So I’ll finish by saying
Your not one of me
And suffice it to say
You never will be.

Rose are Red
Violets are blue
You have no clue
who I am......... :lol:

[quote="ExtraRealPolicePoet":3iek36r6]Rose are red
violets are blue
They hate the cops
Do you?

ROSE ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE..
WE LOVE THE COPS
WE JUST HATE YOU....... :P

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I AM THE COPS
NOT YOU


Rose are Red
Viloets are Blue
How do you know
IM NOT one of YOU........

You may wear the same uniform
You may drive the same car
But do we think you’re a cop
We laugh; Hardy Har Har

You might have our same radio
Have a night stick and gun
But one thing we do know
FROM a real call you will RUN

You may suck up to the chief
You might kiss his large arse
But you think you’re a cop
We know that’s a farce

So I’ll finish by saying
Your not one of me
And suffice it to say
You never will be.

Rose are Red
Violets are blue
You have no clue
who I am......... :lol:[/quote:3iek36r6]

AND WHAT'S MORE...NO ONE CARES

What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
We have taken charge of our affairs. This blog has already influenced the next city elections because it had opened the eyes of taxpayers and citizens that have been lied to by Gallegos, Newton , Joe Angelo and the others and encouraged them to begin campaigns to run for office. The citizens now need to hold the current city administration and city commissioners accountable for misconduct and remove them from office.

What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
We have taken charge of our affairs. This blog has already influenced the next city elections because it had opened the eyes of taxpayers and citizens that have been lied to by Gallegos, Newton , Joe Angelo and the others and encouraged them to begin campaigns to run for office. The citizens now need to hold the current city administration and city commissioners accountable for misconduct and remove them from office.


What this city administration has done is encouraged people who would normaly listen and approve of city goverment to say enough is enough, time for a change. You can see and sense the ownership of businesses along wilton drive change as the "pathfinders" of people who changed this city leave because of the direction this city manager, mayor and city commission have set. Look at the empty condo's at wilton station. savannah landings is gone bust on NE 6th ave, the development at NE 7th Ave and Wilton Drive is BEGGING for buyers and lets talk about the empty townhomes along NE 21 Court. Man, did this city commission sell out to the highest bidder, with even one not to bright commissioner who was fired from the attorney generals office bragging that each one on the commission got 30 grand to vote yes on a certain project on NE 5th ave & NE 21 Court. Rumor has it that the mayor bought a condo at the " MARVILLA" location at a dirt cheap price. Someone needs to look into that transaction along with the ones on west oakland park blvd.

What's the matter? Did he found out all your little games? Did he break up the fun? Unless you are willling to speak up, there is nothing here to be taken seriously... Do you expect this blog to influence next elections, or next appointments? Do you expect the Fairy Good Mother to come and read this blog and "puff!": all is better? Get your head out from where you have it stuck and take charge of your own affairs; be accountbale...
We have taken charge of our affairs. This blog has already influenced the next city elections because it had opened the eyes of taxpayers and citizens that have been lied to by Gallegos, Newton , Joe Angelo and the others and encouraged them to begin campaigns to run for office. The citizens now need to hold the current city administration and city commissioners accountable for misconduct and remove them from office.

Word has it that www.leoaffairs.com (http://www.leoaffairs.com) was the talk of the Halloween Festival last Wednesday. Two writers from Buzz magazine wanted to know who Rp, Ds Ec and the others were. Seems that Sun Sentinel article really opened some people eyes and ears who are not connected to certain city officials and are starting to hear what is really happening at the police department[, along with some situations involving regular city workers.

Any reason why you guys only use initials? Although I have been watching some of the threads since the article came out, I don't know who everyone is since I am just a resident and not a police officer. I have not had any dealings with the police as of yet and have been living in here the last 3 years.

I have a son who works patrol for NYPD and I know from talking to him how stressful it can be working with bad bosses. I am not saying you have a bad boss, but I just pray that you all come out of this slump.

May God bless you all and watch over you and your families.

Any reason why you guys only use initials? Although I have been watching some of the threads since the article came out, I don't know who everyone is since I am just a resident and not a police officer. I have not had any dealings with the police as of yet and have been living in here the last 3 years.

I have a son who works patrol for NYPD and I know from talking to him how stressful it can be working with bad bosses. I am not saying you have a bad boss, but I just pray that you all come out of this slump.

May God bless you all and watch over you and your families.

Thank you. The reason that we use initials and nicknames is that we had have a bad boss, a very bad boss who is very unprofessional,vindictive, egotistical & power hungry who likes to crush or retaliate against people who disagree with his view or outlook. Not very employee friendly. It is his way or no way. The only way to get out of this slump is for the city commission to clean house at the top of the police administration and then weed out his team( thankfully not many) to try to rebuild the department which I doubt can be done. The destruction of the pd has gone on for to long and been allowed to go on by the mayor scott newton, city manager joe gallegos and city commissioners J angelo, c sherrit, t gallatis and g resnick. Again thank you for the prayers. We really need them.

Hey George N. read the DHILLION REPORT then you will see how well the department was run before. Now all the freeloaders actually have to work and they dont like it. I'm not saying this chief is doing a great job but the last one had his head in his ---. He was letting these guys just do whatever they wanted and they still had the gall to ***** about their contract. They were getting so much OT is was ridiculous. JUST READ THE DHILLION REPORT...... These old cast of officers(THE ONES POSTING ON THIS SITE MOSTLY) we're so dumb that they were watching TV while this guy Matt Dhillion was wacthing them. The old chief didn't even have enough sense to shape up while Dhillion was watching to at the very least give the illusion the department was being run correctly. Dont let the bellyachers fool you.

[Police Poet]

The Shield

A cop was killed one somber night, They buried him today.
He gave his life to do a job. A wooden box his pay.
Taps were played and the shots were fired That signified the loss.
They echoed 'cross the lonely land. All eyes stared at the cross.
The folded flag was passed along To his widow's shaking hands.
She held her daughter in her arms, And answered her demands.
So cry, my dear, don't hold it back, Don't lock it up inside.
We loved him so and he loved us, He served his land with pride.
He gave his life to do a job, That others could not do.
He proudly wore that silver shield, With pride we'll miss him too.
The young lass, with tear-filled eyes, Then turned and faced her mother.
This promise I give, I vow today, I'll never give another.
Some day I too will wear the blue And stand among the best.
I'll serve my land and do my job, Dad's badge pinned to my chest.
But if I too should fall some day, Fighting to hold that line,
Then take the badge from off my chest, Give me my box of pine.
And take that badge and keep it bright, For there will come another,
Who'll pin it on a shirt of blue, And swear that oath of honor.
And while he stands with lifted hand, His chest filled out with pride,
Beside and behind will stand the ones Who served, who fought, who died.
Though officers die, families cry, Others will come along,
To take the badge well worn with pride, To try and right the wrong.
It's those who watch while others serve, Who owe a debt not small.
These ones in blue, with silver shield, Stand firm, stand fast, stand tall.

-- AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Your Daddy Wore A Badge

Your daddy wore a badge, she said,
So cry your grieving tears,
Then dry your eyes and lift your head
He lived to lessen fears.
He wore a badge with pride she said,
And justice was his dream,
He lived to serve and serving died,
And though it may not seem
That one cop's death could make this land
A better place to be,
His life was where he took a stand
And forced the blind to see.
So dry your tears and lift your head
And make your daddy proud,
Be strong in heart, for he's not dead
Just lost among the crowd.
His dream lives on in you, my son,
(the widow softly spoke)
She squeezed his hand,
Then sorrow won;
I watched as her heart broke.
Then something changed:
A sigh half sighed escaped her lips unfinished.
She straightened up;
Although he died, his life was undiminished.
Your daddy wore a badge, she smiled,
Be proud of who he was.
He did his job (she hugged her child)
Because, my son, because...

Lisa K. Borchers, 16 Jan 1986

23rd Psalm

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

Enough of the blue type. It is RP's method of changing the topics.

Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

The kind that will try to be the first one there as a backup when your crybaby ass needs one.

Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

The kind that will try to be the first one there as a backup when your crybaby ass needs one.

Please. Dont back me up. In fact dont come to my call. I dont need you and dont want you there. You'd probably take the long way if you were dispatched anyway. because your scared!!!

Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

The kind that will try to be the first one there as a backup when your crybaby ass needs one.

Please. Dont back me up. In fact dont come to my call. I dont need you and dont want you there. You'd probably take the long way if you were dispatched anyway. because your scared!!!

Get out of police work, NOW!!!! You are the reason why this police department is in so much turmoil. We don't need cops like you. GET OUT NOW!!!!!!!

[quote=Anonymous]Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

The kind that will try to be the first one there as a backup when your crybaby ass needs one.

Please. Dont back me up. In fact dont come to my call. I dont need you and dont want you there. You'd probably take the long way if you were dispatched anyway. because your scared!!!

Get out of police work, NOW!!!! You are the reason why this police department is in so much turmoil. We don't need cops like you. GET OUT NOW!!!!!!![/quote:1jfmw91z]
What!!!!!!!
RP finally admits the department is in turmoil. Maybe we can talk now about some issues.
How about if you resign..HMMMM.....Let' say today.

[quote=Anonymous]Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

The kind that will try to be the first one there as a backup when your crybaby ass needs one.

Please. Dont back me up. In fact dont come to my call. I dont need you and dont want you there. You'd probably take the long way if you were dispatched anyway. because your scared!!!

Get out of police work, NOW!!!! You are the reason why this police department is in so much turmoil. We don't need cops like you. GET OUT NOW!!!!!!!
What!!!!!!!
RP finally admits the department is in turmoil. Maybe we can talk now about some issues.
How about if you resign..HMMMM.....Let' say today.[/quote:14wzuavz]

My guess is this crybaby is already another Depts. problem......

[quote=Anonymous]Question
What kind of loser is police poet?

The kind that will try to be the first one there as a backup when your crybaby ass needs one.

Please. Dont back me up. In fact dont come to my call. I dont need you and dont want you there. You'd probably take the long way if you were dispatched anyway. because your scared!!!

Get out of police work, NOW!!!! You are the reason why this police department is in so much turmoil. We don't need cops like you. GET OUT NOW!!!!!!!
What!!!!!!!
RP finally admits the department is in turmoil. Maybe we can talk now about some issues.
How about if you resign..HMMMM.....Let' say today.

My guess is this crybaby is already another Depts. problem......[/quote:2oob8ztf]

Yea he was Fort Lauderdales and now is Wilton Manors. So is she.

PERSPECTIVE

You stay up for 16 hours
He stays up for days on end.

You take a warm shower to help you wake up.
He goes days or weeks without running water.

You complain of a 'headache', and call in sick.
He gets shot at as others are hit, and keeps moving forward.

You put on your anti war/don't support the troops shirt, And go meet up with your friends.
He still fights for your right to wear that shirt.

You make sure you're cell phone is in your pocket.
He clutches the cross hanging on his chain next to his dog tags.

You talk trash about your 'buddies' that aren't with you.
He knows he may not see some of his buddies again.

You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls.
He patrols the streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists.

You complain about how hot it is.
He wears his heavy gear, not daring to take off his helmet to wipe his brow.

You go out to lunch, and complain because the restaurant got your order wrong.
He doesn't get to eat today.

Your maid makes your bed and washes your clothes.
He wears the same things for weeks, but makes sure his weapons are clean.

You go to the mall and get your hair redone.
He doesn't have time to brush his teeth today.

You're angry because your class ran 5 minutes over.
He's told he will be held over an extra 2 months.

You call your girlfriend and set a date for tonight.
He waits for the mail to see if there is a letter from home.

You hug and kiss your girlfriend, like you do everyday.
He holds his letter close and smells his love's perfume.

You roll your eyes as a baby cries.
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and wonders if they'll ever meet.

You criticize your government, and say that war never solves anything.
He sees the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembers why he is fighting.

You hear the jokes about the war, and make fun of men like him.
He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded.

You see only what the media wants you to see.
He sees the broken bodies lying around him.

You are asked to go to the store by your parents. You don't.
He does exactly what he is told even if it puts his life in danger.

You stay at home and watch TV.
He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home, sleep, and eat.

You crawl into your soft bed, with down pillows, and get comfortable.
He tries to sleep but gets woken by mortars and helicopters all night long.

If you support your troops, copy this and send this to 5 people.
If you don't support your troops well, then don't send this out. You won't die in 7 days, your love life won't be affected, and you won't have the worst day ever. You don't have to email this. It's not like you know the men and women that are dying to preserve your rights.



A Prayer

Dear God,
Protect our services men, who fight for the freedom of everyone.
Color, race or religion ... Freedom for all. American, Canadian, & British
Soldiers, Help them Lord, keep them safe and let them come home to there families soon.
In your name ... We pray for Peace. Amen

So Small

What you got if you aint got love?
The kind that you just wanna give away
It's okay to open up
Go ahead and let the light shine through
I know it's hard on a rainy day
You wanna shut the world out
And just be left alone
Don't run out on your faith

Sometimes that mountain you've been climbing
Is just a grain of sand
What you've been out there searching for forever,
Is in your hands
When you figure out love is all that matters, after all
It sure makes everything else
Seem so small

It's so easy to get lost inside
A problem that seems so big, at the time
It's like a river that's so wide
It swallows you whole
While you're sittin round thinking about what you can't change
And worryin' about all the wrong things
Time's flying by, moving so fast
You better make it count, cause you can't get it back

Sometimes that mountain you've been climbing
Is just a grain of sand
What you've been out there searchin for forever
Is in your hands
Oh, When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
Seem so small


Sometimes that mountain you've been climbing
Is just a grain of sand
What you've been out there searchin for forever
Is in your hands
Oh, When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
Oh it sure makes everything else
Seem so small

Carrie Underwood

What Do Ya Think About That
Montgomery Gentry


I heard it through the grapevine
My new neighbor don't like my big red barn
A '47 Ford, bullet holes in the door
Broke down motor in the front yard
I got half a mind to paint a plywood sign
And nail it up on a notty pine tree
Saying I was here first
This is my piece of dirt
And your rambling don't rattle me

Some people care about what other people think
Worry about what they say
Let a little gossip
Coming from a loose lip ruin a perfect day
Say, blah, blah, blah, just a jacking their jaws
Got a letta roll off-a my back
I don't give a dern what other people think
What do ya think about that

I wear what I want to, overalls work boots
Crank my music up loud
Like to sling a little mud in my four wheel drive
Trek it all into town

Shot a little eight ball down at the pool hall
Drink a beer with my friends
Now don't judge me and I won't judge you
Cause we all get judged in the end

Some people care about what other people think
Worry about what they say
Let a little gossip
Coming from a loose lip ruin a perfect day
Say, blah, blah, blah, just a jacking their jaws
Got a letta roll offa my back
I don't give a dern what other people think
What do ya think about that

Some people care about what other people think
Worry about what they say
Let a little gossip
Coming from a loose lip ruin a perfect day
Say, blah, blah, blah, just a jacking their jaws
Got a letta roll offa my back
I don't give a dern what other people think
What do ya think about that

Say, I don't give a darn what other people think
What do ya think about that
What do ya think about that