Best Viet Poems
He dreams day dreams of horror.
He could be anywhere,
But in his mind he’s instantly
Back inside that village there.
He hears those jungle sounds
Again and again and again,
Just one of that platoon of
Tired and frightened men.
He smells again that smell;
Napalm that kisses and clings,
Turning living feeling bodies
Into writhing screaming things.
He senses again the movement
At the very edge of his sight
That sends his reflex fire out
Into the dawn’s breaking light.
He sees once again the shock
And pain on that child’s face
And then his mind in horror
Drags him back from that place,
And he awaits his next visit
With anguish and despair.
He can’t run from daydreams
Trapped in his invalid’s chair
For asking please forgive us Father
But were you with us here today?
In this place that must be hell.
If it is not, then we cannot tell.
We lost so many good friends here today.
It is so bad that we no longer know the way.
We have seen so much in this past year.
We really need to know that you are here.
We need your love, your guidance and a song.
We fear this place and that our being here is wrong.
So many of us seem lost.
Yet we stay together no matter the cost.
Please Father guide us and show us the way.
So that we can survive another day, and
If we are not to make it home,
Please do not let us die here all alone.
I wrote this many years ago, and thought I would share it now.
There are other things besides the years That make the young grow old I 'v learned that bullets hurt worse than football knees or broken noses Or even slaps from pretty girls I'v learned there's no way home without some kind of private crucifix That just might be for now Another year of solitude.
VIETNAM REMEMBRANCE
By
Robert Welch
March 17, 2016
Reaching far away it stands, gently ‘round the bend.
Names in stone, row on row, that seem to never end;
Reflections of the ones who died; those who gave their all.
Yet, there at last, the final name, the last to die and fall.
We went as boys so very young, our lives yet not fulfilled,
A place that was a living hell, not fit for man or child.
All gave some, and some gave all, in a war that was so cruel.
Yet those of us who did come home were faced with ridicule.
But those who died and gave their all are the truest of the true,
Their names are on a granite wall, for all of us to view.
As we pass by and stop to see, a flag, a book, a name;
Many names, so many names, not one who brought us shame.
Rest in peace, oh faithful one, and wait for us above.
For one day we shall join with you and see the Heavenly dove.
But as we wait for that to come, our tears will fall anew,
In knowing that those left behind will always grieve for you.
When, in our deepest sorrow, and our hearts are heavy laden;
When it seems that all is lost, and everyone is saddened
We come together in His name, to praise and sing a song,
Knowing that the will of God will surely make us strong.
monkey
playful friend
from Viet Nam
sent by loving soldier
60's
(Machine gun bullets, or is that rain?
Mud spackled riv'lets down the drain.)
Did you ever think that the truth was funny?
Same old joke for any Money.
Burns are red, bruises blue.
Enemies here in their village stew;
And with the same old same old thing to do.
A pretty girl
Posting a letter
In November
Sending it to young soldier
The wind sent her skirts swirling
Expectations were in the air
No one would ever know
How much this act of kindness would mean
To a soldier in Viet Nam on his last day
Fifty years ago it began.
War in a distant, foreign land.
For a decade or more men gallantly served.
From devotion to duty they never swerved.
From every walk of life they came,
Trying a ruthless enemy to tame.
Leaving home, family, jobs and friend
They served where their beloved country did send.
Contrary to many most volunteered.
They were not by draft commandeered.
They felt a duty to do their part,
Having a servant’s selfless heart.
Many hours through rice paddies they marched.
In summer’s extremes from the sun they parched.
Many in those paddies bravely expired.
Some went on and from service retired.
Returning home they were ridiculed,
Their service viewed as miniscule.
Anarchist’s venom toward them was spewed
Few got the recognition they rightly were due.
Now these many years after the fact
It’s time for all to better react.
Honor and respect they’ve surely earned
This truth will hopefully by all be learned.
No longer for the war should they be blamed,
A place of honor can now be claimed.
Victory in every battle was theirs
Though left wing loons don’t really care.
There’s one thing I don’t quite yet see
As older and older I continue to be.
How is their service less honorable than – say,
Those who served in a former day?
Are they inferior to the vet of this day?
Were they not in an equal fray?
Now in this day a new look is taken.
For too many years we’ve been mistaken.
Army cooks don't do anything wrong
By feeding a "Mad Killer" throng
& that's rather droll
Like a troll on the dole
Who freaks out on a Viet Cong dong
VIET BOMB
I recall when time, to me, mattered not
All I did was follow a predestined plot
suddenly my world became acrid and tart
Because then came a wicked war in which I took part
Eyes beware, and take care my dear friend
Or this could mean your life’s tragic end
In every tree there may be a well aimed sniper
And then it’s time for a soldier to pay the piper
The country we fought was another people’s birthright
And yet we were taught to hate, harm and how to fight
A battle until death be our enemy’s unjust end
But what did we go there for us to actually defend?
Our defense was offensive to my salient soul
While bloodshed was our sole and only goal
Who were we to say what another country needs,
Because blood is that which a foolish battle breeds
And then those of us who perished not came home
Some never to speak of war and others to write a tome
The only country our soldiers should defend is our very own
And now the time when time mattered not is to me unknown
© 2011.….Poefree
Author’s note: I never went to Nam but Ronnie Manerva did and was spat upon when
he returned…….This poem is for you Ronnie and every brave hero who fought a losing
battle and may you and them forget being rewarded for doing your duty with saliva
and glaring stares!
© Ben Burton 5/30/2016
"Paw-paw," the young man asked, "how come you never talk about the war
The one Dad told me you fought in, in 1964?"
The gray-haired man replied, through dejection in his eyes
"Some things are better left unsaid, except of those who bled and died
Which war it was should bear no weight, they died fighting for us
My battle scars all lie within, too hurtful to discuss
For many who lost mind and limb were mocked, spit at, and cursed
And made to feel like aliens in this land of their birth
No time before had soldiers fought and come back home to ridicule
Those boys fought just as hard and true as did GIs in World War II
That's why you never hear me speak about those days, my dear grandson
What should have been our glory days were spent in Viet Nam
I might not speak, but I do pray...for every single one"
There was a war sometime ago where mem were ordered young and old,
to fight the battle keep us safe but for them no escape.
The war went on and the battle raged soldiers dieing everyday,
so many men and boys too side by side fought for me and you.
Viet-Nam what can I say,War of War still killing today.
Agent Orange,Flash Backs too,
many deceases worst than any flu.
One by one they did go for Uncle Sam made it so,
fighting a war they knew not why just to stand shoot and die.
Marching,fighting days on end never knowing if it would end,
or if they would return to the country where they were born.
For the ones who didn't die they were'nt even reconized,
no not one would they meet or even give them an honorary seat.
As for me I have to say they should not have been treated that way.
A Hero's welcome they deserved and crowds of people on every curb,
but instead they fought,died and we didn't as much as say Good-Bye!
Signed;
A Guilty One
Troops confidently led to Ong Thanh Stream
United States Companies B and D.
Watched as air strikes troubled the VC team.
Later found seventeen killed enemy.
Silver Star presented to Welch that day.
Captain Nguyen Van Lam set up ambush.
First Platoon reported trees were a sway.
A claymore mine exploded in a rush.
US Military put a spin on it.
Ong Thanh was a disastrous battle.
VC Victory we did not admit.
US Soldiers informed not to tattle.
Allen and Dowling were two lost that day.
Hundreds of others, a swamp far away.
Written 12-31-2018 Contest: War Sonnet
Sponsor: Mark Massey
steamy jungle
dense undergrowth
viny overgrowth
thickets abound --
monkeys chatter
foretelling doom
snakes hissing
eerie sirens --
bamboo sticks
in the ground
spiked with poison
puncture unsure feet...
all to protect
an unseen enemy
raining bullets down
from nowhere
~ Viet Nam, 1966 ~
1969 was a sad year for those aware of Viet Nam
We were seventeen and eighteen
It was in the news but what did it have to do with us?
Our love was intense
He wore white jeans that made me wild
He knew it, so he wore them often
Driving me crazy
Nothing else mattered, nothing else mattered
We thought no one knew our secret look
Others gave us our illusion
His draft number was thirty-six
He found a loophole
I begged him to use it.
It was daring. On Christmas week his number went to number 1.
Only for a week, then he would get a new number, way back in the two hundreds
Our love was intense
He wanted to please me
Driving his folks crazy
A phone call came on Christmas Day
He had to go; they had pulled his card.
I felt awful. Our love was intense.
Vietnam was real now
He wanted more now before he left.
I was wild but not that wild.
This was the Bible belt
Small town America
His pleas were driving me crazy
At the airport we could not keep our hands off each other.
I told him we could do the things he wanted when he returned.
But he did not last two weeks.
He was killed in a jungle
We did not even care about
My heart blew up in the landmine with his
Driving me crazy
I wish I had done things differently
I would like to see those white jeans again