Saigon Poems

Fall of Saigon

ex-pilot
watches Saigon fall
disgusted

Saigon Times

Why have we not opened our heart borders
to the truly desperate,,
to the men and women of Afghanistan
who've fought long and hard
for basic human rights,,,
now we're leaving them behind
with necks in the shadows of wicked knives..
We've known for quite awhile that Kabul would fall
so why have we not yet emptied our embassy,
have we forgotten the hard lessons from Hillary's Benghazi?

Again we've tried in jest to mold the bride of Frankenstein
into a runway model..it hasn't worked yet
the devil wins yet again..

Joe, if you have one last flicker of light left, 
don't leave our loyal friends and war dogs behind
like we did back in those bloody Saigon times.

Saigon 1995

Saigon 1995

Saigon 1995

In 1995 
I was one of the first American tourists
Allowed into Vietnam
To freely wander about

Tourism was at its infancy
And Saigon was chaotic
Wild and crazy
Traffic was insane

There were few tourism sites
Few hotels
Few guest houses
And not too many restaurants

The food was good
We saw the war memorial
The reunification palace
And the big market

But we felt we were being monitored
Beggars were everywhere
There were scams everywhere
And it was not that pleasant an experience

But Saigon grew up
Became a much more tourist-friendly place
And these problems we encountered 
A thing of the place

Saigon is so much better
So much more developed
That it has captured our soul
And we will be back

Saigon 2019

Saigon 2019


Vibrant, vivid, exciting
A city on the move
Becoming a world-class city
Yet still with a Saigon swagger

Wandering the streets
Dodging the traffic
Admiring the women
Enjoying the food

Saigon enters my heart
And I know that I will be back
This city is growing on me
Reminds me of Korea 

One hopes that as it develops
It will not become a carbon copy
Of other big Asian cities
Obliterating its past

In search of a false modern image
I hope it can retain 
What makes Saigon Saigon
And not become another Gangnam

Hope it does it with Saigon style
And the people will evolve
The country will emerge
And become what it should be 

The Paris of the East
This is my vision 
as I wander about 
enjoying Saigon in 2019

Ghost of Chu Chi

Crawling down the tunnels
Of Chu Chi
I could almost imagine
The Viet Kong guerillas 

Hiding deep under the tunnels
As the land above is turned
Into a temporary dessert 

With the vegetation burned off
By napalm and agent orange

The Viet Kong creep out at night
Stealing onto the bases
Stealing weapons, food, supplies
And occasionally killing soldiers

In their sleep
The US soldiers
Stay on base at night

Terrified of the mosquitos
And of the Viet Kong

the ghosts 
Surround me
Telling me their stories
And at last I fled

Through the emergency escape tunnel
Declaring victory
Profoundly shaken up 
By the ghosts of the Chu Chi tunnels

Old Lady In the Neighborhood

There is an old Vietnamese lady
In the neighborhood

Obviously senile
But everyone knows her

And watches over her
To make sure 

She stays out of traffic
And out of trouble

She talks to everyone
But no one seems to understand

What she is babbling 
on about

They smile at her
And she smiles back

And she for some reason
She likes us

And like my 
Vietnamese Coffee lady

I wonder why
Why was there

 this connection
Between us

It dawned on me
Perhaps in a prior life

She knew an American or two
And I remind her of someone

Or perhaps she is found
Of Korean K drama

And Angela reminds her
Of her favorite K Drama star

Or perhaps it is both
Or another reason entirely

But in any event
I look forward

To seeing her smiling face
Every time I walk

Down my ally way
in Old Saigon

Coffee Lady In Saigon

Every morning
I have gone out for Vietnamese coffee

At a sidewalk café
Down the ally from our AIRBNB

The owner is a pleasant middle age woman
Who for some reason likes us

She smiles at us
Greets us in Vietnamese

She does  not understand English
Or Korean

And I wonder why

Why was there 

this connection
Between us

It dawned on me
Perhaps in a prior life

She knew an American or two
And I remind her of someone

Or perhaps she is found
Of Korean K drama

And Angela reminds her
Of her favorite K Drama star

Or perhaps it is both
Or another reason entirely

But I moved today
And will miss her

Might go back for a final cup
Of coffee

To say good bye
To my Vietnamese coffee lady

Mastering the Saigon Shuffle

When I first visited Saigon
Learning the Saigon Shuffle
Was difficult 

And now 24 years later
It all seems to be coming back

There is an art to crossing the street
Dodging the motor cyclists, the taxis, the private cars
The bikes and other pedestrians and the buses

The art consists of letting the big guys go first
Then walk between the motorcycles and cyclists
Trusting that they will get out of your way

And they being masters of the Saigon shuffle
Always find a way 

In my two visits I was struck
By how it all flows together

Without a central authority
And with almost no planning
Lights or cops

Somehow it just is
And somehow it works

And it is still a mystery to me
24 years after first 
Encountering the Saigon shuffle

Old Ghosts In Saigon

Old ghosts wandering the streets of old Saigon
Lost spirits of the dead
Died during the endless wars  
Ghostly apparitions around every corner

Here was Kilroy 
and his gang of soldiers
Over there were the Viet Cong 
Waiting to kill them

Saigon is filled with memories like that
Terrible times were had here in Old Saigon
Silently the ghosts parade the city streets
As the tourists drink in the bars

Saigon Cinnamon

You are something
Beyond classification or description.
Something sensory.
Something
Warm, sweet, 
Rich, dark, 
Smoke and fire, 
Softened spice, 
Sugared rust, 
Dusted copper,
Wood, bark, 
Like you grew from the ground
Or were mined from the red earth.
Just like Saigon Cinnamon.

Girl of Saigon - the Morning After

GIRL OF SAIGON - THE MORNING AFTER
You are the night and morning after.
Sunrise is playing in your hair,
I swear your eyes are telling me lies,
I know you kill but I don't care.

Out in the bush, I'd recognize
your look of death staring at me,
to soon to show the hate in your eyes,
and I would end your misery.

I hear your love like distant thunder
rolling across a barren sky,
I only guess you want to confess,
so I'd keep living in your lie,

but I know you're just too far gone,
and you know, I'm telling you why
some morning soon, I'll carry on
or be the one who had to die.

© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Girl of Saigon

GIRL OF SAIGON
I've seen death every day in a tropical rain,
I could tell you about it, but I can't take the pain.

There's a path through the bush it's all tainted and red,
from the blood of believers, who were right in their head.

I've killed fathers and sons, never blinking an eye,
and I've looked in the eyes of a friend as he died.

I've been drunk in Saigon, where I tried to forget,
but with life all around me, I've not found a way yet.

In a way life is coasting, other ways it's a climb,
but I don't like to guess if it's all worth the time.

In Saigon was a girl with the prettiest eyes,
she knew life as it is, and it's lies and more lies.

She knew brave hearted men, and she loved every one,
and she loved every child, when the fathers were gone.
             © 2001 ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Girl of Saigon

GIRL OF SAIGON
I've seen death every day in a tropical rain,
I could tell you about it, but I can't take the pain.

There's a path through the bush it's all tainted and red,
from the blood of believers, who were right in their head.

I've killed fathers and sons, never blinking an eye,
and I've looked in the eyes of a friend as he died.

I've been drunk in Saigon, where I tried to forget,
but with life all around me, I've not found a way yet.

In a way life is coasting, other ways it's a climb,
but I don't like to guess if it's all worth the time.

In Saigon was a girl with the prettiest eyes,
she knew life as it is, and it's lies and more lies.

She knew brave hearted men, and she loved every one,
and she loved every child, when the fathers were gone.
© ron wilson arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

And the Ladies of Saigon Swayed

and I walked along Hai Ba Trung looking
for peace and reconciliation but only found 
whores and foodsellers
and the former shouted,"come in sir!",
and the latter spilt grease on to the sidewalk
and paid no attention the the swayers

so I shouted back, "please no I'm gay",
hoping my lie would send them away
and a long-legged gal shouted back,
that's OK fellah,"I,m ladyboy Lou
(and a look that said I wouldn't have
to pay)

so I sloped away with my morality 
between my legs and the thought of 
a cold beer with a view to the street

Girl of Saigon

veebdosa
World Of War:Vietnam

GIRL OF SAIGON
I've seen death every day in a tropical rain,
I could tell you about it, but I can't take the pain.

There's a path through the bush it's all tainted and red,
from the blood of believers, who were right in their head.

I've killed fathers and sons, never blinking an eye,
and I've looked in the eyes of a friend as he died.

I've been drunk in Saigon, where I tried to forget,
but with life all around me, I've not found a way yet.

In a way life is coasting, other ways it's a climb,
but I don't like to guess if it's all worth the time.

In Saigon was a girl with the prettiest eyes,
she knew life as it is, and it's lies and more lies.

She knew brave hearted men, and she loved every one,
and she loved every child, when the fathers were gone.

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