Long Viet Poems
Long Viet Poems. Below are the most popular long Viet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Viet poems by poem length and keyword.
There are no words now But I Was there Twice In the presence of the first cause The consciousness of eternal love The golden light they sing of in old spirituals And more than this I was welcomed home joining and becoming a part of that light My emotions and thoughts were with me but my body was not Beleave this or not It dosen't matter to me but in heaven we are one in God And it was good And our fully aware consciousness knows everyone and everyone knows us Because we are all Gods children the color of light Once from a bloody road in Viet Nan And then from a bloody auto accident on highway 27 In Lake Walse Fla I took a detour to Gods house And this is What God told me God Said To love each other in the highest form of love we know And everyyhing would fall into place .To love with all our spirit and soul and mind wouldn't leave time for anything negative.Beleave what you will ofcouse Iam just a messenger and I'll love you eather way Twice I was written up as dead and maybe Just maybe this verse is part of why I came back
Carlo Santana's Black Magic Woman,
in the 60's and 70's gave magic to his
band..
Drugs were part of this movement it's
fair to say. Getting high for many,
while listening to their music, was the
common way
Peace signs, beads, bell bottoms,
psychedelic shirts, desert boots, and
long hair and marijuana, is what was
in style. Looking back and being part
of that history lifestyle, makes me smile.
Peace protesters against the draft,
and Vietnam war. Jimi Hendrix, Peter,
Paul and Mary, The Beatles, Bob Dillon
The Beach Boys,Led Zepplin, Rolling
Stones,Elvis,Simon and Garfunkel,
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Neil Young,
Leonard Skynyrd, Eric Clapton, Carly
Simon is all we heard.
They kept our soldiers in Viet Nam
mentally occupied. It helped them
overcome their stress, and brought
some pleasure to their lives.
Rock N Roll Music had an impact
everywhere.The melodies and lyrics
represented a culture reflecting people,
who really cared.
Neil Young, Eric Clapton, Aerosmith,
Neil Diamond, Barbara Striesand,
Jim Croce made the scene. Years later
Disco and the Bee Gee's came dancing
in.
Disco died, it didn't last long, during
this time Rock N Roll kept rolling on.
Rush, The Eagles, The Police, Peter
Frampton, Boston, Reo Speedwagon,
Blue OysterCult, Fleetwood Mac, Bob
Seger, Steve Miller band, we listened
to. I can't forget Journey, Bruce
Springsteen, Foreigner or the Who.
Bon Jovi, Creed, Madonna, Red Chili
Peppers, Van Halen, Black Eye Peas,
Were hot then. Rock N Roll songs, will
keep on playing, and be appreciated
over and over again.
Time reflects the Lyrics in the songs,
of the good times and the wrongs.
Woodstock brought them all together,
a lasting bond to last forever.. .
Homeward Bound Simon and Garfunkel
was the favorite song with the soldiers. Also
John mentioned The Lion SleepsTonight by
the Tokens. Robert Lindley also mentioned
their groups that were left out. Please read his
comments below. I also thank Robert for his
valued input.
I just want to add that the 60's and
70's were my personal favorite years.
I say this because people really cared
about the war and each other. They
were right...
Michael Tor 10/16/2015 Nayda Ivette Negron. Contest: Favorite Music Type
'Being decisive and confident' are powerful assets, but "I don't know" is asinine. Whole hearted and half hearted people are not half, but whole worlds apart.
A famous baseball player once said, "Don't look back, something might be gaining on you". Looking back over the years of my past, I have observed a pattern that portrays the fact that I have rarely returned to places I once have been. It appears that I finished the work or the assigned mission, moved on, and seldom looked back.
I have sometime wondered, but not seriously, about the direction my life would have gone, or the path I would have taken, or the career choice I would have made, if only I had joined my best friend in Tennessee rather than start out in Chicago; or if I had been drafted and sent off to Viet Nam rather to college in Chicago; or if I had not gotten sidetracked and forgot about the enrollment fee I had payed for a Texas computer school; or if I had not misdialed that telephone number that connected me to a school I was not looking for that became the school from which I graduated; or was it really a misdial or the pathway to my destiny? Or what if I had accepted that promising job offer while still a sophomore in college?
I have never been bothered by the 'what ifs', 'why nots', 'why me', and 'maybe'. Still, sometimes I think, but not seriously, "What if I had not gone to that college where I met Bob through whom I met Carlis through whom I met Barbara to whom I have been married for 48 years with whom I have had three children who have given us six grand children"?
There may be long and short answers, but I've always believed in getting to the bottom of things, getting to the point. That's not to say that life is all 'black and white and no greys'. Sometimes, maybe, maybe not, my 'what ifs' would have taken me to New York and not San Francisco, but I think now as I thought then, that the proper decisions and chosen paths were the right ones for me. And I don't mean maybe.
080120PSCtest, If Only, Maybe, Sometimes, Silent One. 5P
This revolutionary fella followed by
Adams family patriarch,giving rise
twin heir (plain lee gifted "Renaissance
Man") Jeff force'n without hemming
and hawing, subsequently conceding
nexus (nor horse drawn Lexus) of Colonial
power to Madison, thence Monroe
buttoned up as suitable candidate after
which younger Adams elected.
Thirty four followed Jackson's club
trumpeting (some Obama nib bully)
bushwhacking their way predicated
on faulty Algorithm, charming
charismatically with hint of Clint
like glint in eyes, blinding populace,
sans ray gun (Reagan), Car Tour ring
with peanut gallery in tow, affording
(unpopularly pardoning unfashionably),
a Jerry rigged nixed son, followed
by John's son tainted by stain of Vietnam,
but with said Southeast Asian debacle,
one ken heady (sporting thick styled hair)
inherited an internecine conflict, essentially
precipitated, when Eisenhower hardened
political stance against any allies of the
Soviet Union, (sans The Viet Cong), and
pledged his firm support to Diem
and South Vietnam.
Now with preceding administration, one
harried true man unleashed advent of atomic
spectra upon Hiroshima, and Nagasaki, this
purported preemptive measure scary ruse
felt to thwart exaggerated Japanese government
threat (military intelligence) scheming to
wreak untold havoc upon American troops
within the Pacific theater of World War II.
The former horrific decision controversial,
then and to this day Hoover expert historian,
diverge, asper corroborating the necessity
to usher in the Cold War, yet majority foreign
policy wonks might grudgingly attest that
said thirty first commander in chief did maintain
a Cool Edge throughout onset when doomsday
clock began countdown to Armageddon,
an unimaginably blaring, deafening, earsplitting...
cacophony distant rumbles heard, nonetheless,
no Hard dinning ghoulish nightmare (potentially
obliterating all life on planet Earth) haunted
Wilson, nor Taft, only gunboat diplomacy
mere child's play exhorted, less catastrophic
comparison, when Teddy Roosevelt wielded
"big stick schtick" namesake corollary to the
Monroe Doctrine in 1904...ad nauseum.
Nineteen sixty-nine
By Franklin Price
5/22/2019
The year was nineteen sixty-nine
A year for change and to adjust
Had just returned from Viet Nam
Was alone, without much trust
Married when I went away
January sixty-eight
Received “Dear John” on April Fool
It's a long remembered date
Went to war to do my duty
My wife could not do without
By the time she wrote the letter
Was not alone, there was no doubt
By the time that I returned
Divorce was said and done
Don't know what happened to her
She no longer was the one
The Air Force way was not for me
And we went our separate ways
I got a job at KSC
For the Apollo moon man days
Joined the team that POTUS Kennedy
Said would put man on the moon
Before the sixty's decade's over
Sixty-nine was none too soon
We worked hard and we played hard
Was much pressure from the start
To find relief from tensions,
Clubs and bars were all a part
Every week-end was a party
Many dance clubs were around
We traveled home from bar to bar
Drunken driving did abound
It was the sexy sixties
Braless tops and thigh high skirts
Men's pants were tight bell bottomed
To show their package to the flirts
It didn't take much effort
There was lots of ass to see
Many looking for a hook-up
Some a one night stand for me
Didn't ask if they were married
Some probably were and some were not
The sex was all that mattered
And satisfaction that we got
Then one day, a married friend,
Wanted a girl that I had done
If she let you, she will let me
Now I can be the one
One thing led to another
And he moved out on his wife
And their new born child, a daughter
Thought he could have a better life
Took his mistress everywhere with him
Even to our softball games
His wife came to one and met her
Kicked her ass and called her names
I knew he wasn't good for her
She was depressed and was distraught
I put my arm around her
Her marriage then was all but fraught
I drove her home that evening
Was concerned then for her life
Before the year was over
She was divorced and was my wife
That was fifty years ago
When man went to the moon
I'm still happy with the choices made
Our anniversary, golden, soon.
(November 21, 2019)
The Bandits Rendezvous
By Franklin Price
9/1/2019
Once upon, a Far East time, in nineteen sixty eight
The GEEIA squad made history on a non-remembered date
The plan had come together to build a club house new
When it was completed, was named, “The Bandits Rendezvous”
All the parts, to build it, were scrounged from miles around
Taxpayers did not pay a dime to raise it from the ground
The name not given lightly when it opened on that day
At the south end of the squadron a base called Cam Ranh Bay
Our scrounger, whom I will not name, got a jeep, for quarts of rum
From a needy alcoholic, there were a few where we were from
Had it flown down to us, in a Hercules with space
Then drove it down to Phan Rang where another trade took place
The jeep was traded, for a truck,with wood to build the core
Some was traded to the Navy, who poured the concrete floor
Soon the walls were standing and the roof was on the top
But the inside of it barren, and,. for sure, we could not stop
The middle was an open bay. The ends were spacious rooms
We made them into places that were far from storage toombs
The south room had a large teak bar, flown from the Phillipines
The north a full blown kitchen, a place to cook our steak and beans.
Parachutes adorned the middle bay, to provide some ambience
When we had our first unveiling, brass was invited to the dance.
General McConnel came, he was the Air Force, Chief of Staff
Along came other Generals, not the lowly riff and raff.
Don't remember any congressmen, no congress ladies at the time
The drinks were flowing copiously for opening this crime
The General gave a rally speech that made us all so proud
It was in the early evening, we were a drunken, rowdy crowd
When the night was over, and I staggered to my rack
I marveled at the place we'd built, from our scrounger's useful nack
He was right there with us, was a pirate, having fun
In the club house, “Bandits Rendezvous”, when all was built and done.
That's my story, I have told it. That was fifty years ago
The statute of limitations, has run out, for all I know
It was all for entertainment, yes, was all this glitz and glam
It helped to be creative in that place called Viet Nam
The wind blew through my soul at a vary young age And the emptiness has always been there As if I were a stranger on planet earth Living in a household of constant bickering and physical danger Booth parents were alcoholics and manic depressive as they called it then Lucky me living on a roller coaster of emotional extremes Never a dull moment for my sister or Me Somehow we made it through all of Mothers suicidal Christmas's And Father's leaving us for greener pastures Father finally died stepping in front of a car one drunken moonless night And mother died in an apartment fire that she set with a dropped cigaret As for me I was a cutter after losing a leg in Viet Nam I I think I really wanted to die once but maybe I was screaming for help I am speaking of this now for anyone who is on the edge Come back to us we love you And I swear to you the pain will pass or at least fade into the background And you can and will smile again The truth is you must become what your looking for
He stands beside this long black granite wall
broken lines accentuated reflection recalled names
It is here where he realized
that intranquility of redemption, even of prayer's forgiveness,
he do not own it any more than he owned heaven
there being no clearing of one's debts here upon it's mirrored surface.
It is here in chiseled silence that he recalled
just when and where he met himself for the first time
among the scarred remains of the killing-fields
where young men grew old far too quickly,
far from the banana boats skipping upstream the tributaries of the Mekong Delta.
In a rice bowl, horror steamed crop circles of paddy fields jungles tangled
within mind's greatest intrinsic fear
death.
It lay visible near pothered doors
where once stood life's vessels - unbroken, now carnage without vestige
of honor, standing unhinged, doors singed, crippled with every breath unnerved,
reduced now here unspoken to names
only
this is where murder is not reserved
solely for murderers many were faced without honor
within this stone their internment.
As for others, they returned home
invisible
ravaged each night a memory of unhinged doors their un-sutured wounds
opening without knocking entering without leaving unforgotten
fears of cleaving sanctity undeserved
here
where there is no vetted self-reflection, only sweat and the tremor of dream's
recollected and fractured surfaces of soul stilled distilled dying a
thousand times a night each night each day unceremoniously
hell reduced to living in heavenly reproach.
(April 24 2016)
*Not for contest...but post inspired by.
*Unceremoniously, 366 blue plastic capsules containing the birthdays that would be chosen in the first Vietnam draft lottery were drawn on December 1, 1969. There were NO winners. I was one among them. The war had been going on for several years before. A black granite memorial wall was built in Washington D.C. to the veterans of the VIET NAM WAR with the names of the fallen engraved upon and was completed in 1982. Other than this...most are still invisible.
The phrase, "going to war", has always had ominous and forbidding qualities that can
reverberate to the very core of the soul. Experiencing such an ordeal has its own legacy. It
differs from person to person in varying degrees and the anticipation is usually far more
negative than the actual arrival into the area of conflict. Though each war has its own
realities with which to deal, it is not the war addressed by, "Going to War". The poem reveals
the war within when the psyche literally battles with the 'unknown' in its struggle to accept
the actuality of an event feared and imagined.
The eastern sky grew dark with night,
The west held light of day.
A lonesome plane in westward flight
Was taking us away.
When orders came for Viet Nam
And all the names were read,
They may as well have dropped a bomb,
Or shot us there instead.
Some few had been to fight before
But most of us had not;
Had never dealt with death or war,
Or fears of being shot.
Our words came scarce and laughter naught,
Concern was quick to grow.
The doubts and fears we all had brought
Seemed primed and set to blow.
A wave of silence dashed our youth
Against the rocks of war,
And in its wake, the naked truth;
We're little boys no more.
The time had come to set aside
The games of yesterday,
To give our step a longer stride,
To learn another way.
Now doubt looms dark and ominous,
A vulture from the blue,
That preys upon what peace remains,
From all the things we knew.
We pray to soothe our fears and dread,
For rest to ease our mind,
For guidance through the war ahead,
And mourn the 'world', behind;
And that one day we'll understand
Why people have to die...
Still, time grows near when we would land,
The miles were flying by.
The windows fog with quickened breath
In our descent to land.
We all are sure a brush with death
Is very close at hand.
We watch Siagon come into view
And wait to feel a blast;
Then hold our breath, as if on cue,
When wheels touch down, at last.
The war, for us, has just begun;
Our fates seem so unsure,
But we are warriors, every one,
Resolved we will endure.
©1971 by Jim Fish
brothers we be, brother we be free
brothers we be
brother we be free
me and lil bro would have these sword fights
yelling fight to our deaths
yelling to the victor gets Kristina the neighbor's daughter
we were young
about ten
drawing inspiration from each other
and being heroes someday we be
we also put words in Kristina's mouth
she didn't mind, she was like us
this was back in the late 60's
in the land of the midnight sun, Norway
it was also during a time in history
of the viet nam war where these Americans were being protested against
numerous time, i remember,
the house windows being spray painted and broken
brothers we be
brother we be free
we also faced hostility from neighboring kids, much older kids
to the sword fights we go
we fought gallantry
with our little weenie sticks we would fought with so much
gallantry, so gallantry
the kind we would roast weenies and marshmallows on
we were Spartans, fighting passionately
honing our skills for these mean kids
and let me tell you those weenie sticks hurt
it hurt our backside when i sliced off mom's roses
let me tell you
brothers we be
brother we be free
we were also mischief
stealing dads cigs and liquor
sneaking out late at night to our tree forth
one time with Kristina
and let me tell those tree forts hurt our backside
let me tell you, i kid you not
especially when Kristina's dad told ours, ouch
brothers we be
brother we be free
against the neighboring kid we held our own
let me tell, me and lil bro
earning respect on the fjords
fishing, canoeing, swimming
in winter
skiing, especially long jumping and hockey
summer months playing soccer
in time we were ingratiating ourselves with the hood
let me you we did
the best was taking a hike deep into the forest one day
coming upon an inhabited cabin
breaking in, stealing some reindeer horns, girly mags
cookies and sweets
it was passage of life, it forged memories
for two brothers that grew some balls, conviction
experience growing up fast to protect their honor against the hood
but mostly, mostly
brothers we be
brother we be free
connie pachecho
1/21/17