Long Warfriend Poems

Long Warfriend Poems. Below are the most popular long Warfriend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Warfriend poems by poem length and keyword.


Atheists In Foxholes

Two young men in vietnam 
Sit in a foxhole one night
While chatting and talking about there families
and sharing pictures of each others wives

But along in the Dark distance
Came a bright and shimmering light
The light came down from the sky
like a shooting star in midflight

Charley was spreading
into the jungles of the night
Shouting out to one another 
Tat ca deu chet dêm nay 
which means they all die tonight 

As the men laid in the foxhole
watching people running for there life
One of the men said we must flee
the other man said not I

The one man said
In the bright shimmering light
But why does one not flee 
and run too save his own life

The other man looked deep
Deep down in the man's eyes
and says I shall do as my fathers did
I shall stay, I shall fight and I shall die

The fleeing man had a face
a face full of surprise
He asked why does thou not flee with me
on this very hour tonight

He said I just can't do it
it's not the way I was raised
my mother always taught me
to  have a little faith

See I believe in God
and I believe he has a plan
and if it's my time to go
might as well be like a man

So now do you see why,
why one does not flee tonight
why I choose to stay 
and risk my life and fight?

The fleeing man said no
and ran into the dark jungle night

So the one man kept his word
with every inch of his might
sitting in his little foxhole
and fighting throughout the rest of the night

Until his upmost surprise
came mornings first daylight
he seemed to have survived
survived for one more night

Re-gathered with his troops
all thankful to be alive
the man began to search
for his friend that ran off that night

asking all the troops
if they had seem him around
he finally came to the realization
that his friend was nowhere to be found

But he forgot to check
where he should have looked before
because there laid his friend colorless
and lifeless on the floor

So the Vietnam war ended, it took so many lives
but the man who said that he shall stay and fight
now lives at home with that same wife

for he every sunday
visits a tall white ivory stone
on the front it reads, I miss you
and I cant believe that your gone

But with all the Commemorative plaques
and monumental poles
theres one saying that still holds true
there are no atheists in foxholes
Form: Verse


Permanent Guest

Brain spatter smacked me in the face
Blood was everywhere, so thick I could taste it
I rolled to the left and with blurry eyes aimed 
Eliminating the sniper five seconds too late

I wiped off my face with the sleeve of my shirt
And looked at my friend that lay in the dirt  
Headless now, only his tags to ID him -
An image my mind refused to believe in

This jungle would be his makeshift grave 
No cherubbed headstone for Henry Mave
Nothing to tell of the soldier he was
The best friend I had, or the son who was loved

I buried his body beneath leaves and vines
Then I went hunting for Viet Cong lines 
I killed as many enemies as I possibly could  
Like a kamikaze, death was understood

Somehow I survived and went back to New York
Where the horror of war bled into my work
Lost my job, my house, friends, and family 
Trying to forget the engraved memory -

I always knew I’d be a permanent guest
Because the instant he died, I became homeless



**Susan Burch**
*Won 8th place in "World of War: Vietnam" contest
Form: Rhyme

World of War Vietnam

My long time friend Bill enlisted in 1962
Back then he said, "It's the right thing to do!"
He served his country with vigor and pride 
Fought in the jungle and watched his friend die
 

A machine gun severed three fourths of Bill's leg
He cut off the remainder though never begged
as the enemy stood over him, machetes in hand
Bill's company blew Vietcong all over that land.
 

He was then sent home, wheelchair bound 
but Bill O Hara you just couldn't keep down
He opened a law office, put his "smarts" to the test    
And that damn machine gun stayed screwed to his desk 

 
His favorite passion was to set sail to sea
Forgetting his problems for there he was free    
40 years  passed since he  left Vietnam
and no matter the day, he still hears that bomb!

                                  ***

Contest: World of War : Vietnam
Sponsor: Miranda Lambert
Submitted by: Judy Konos
© Judy Konos  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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