Short Viet Nam Poems
Short Viet Nam Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Viet Nam by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Viet Nam by length and keyword.
viet nam is happening
his leg is gone
i am sorry i say
and thank you
for your sacrifice
it is not enough
but it is all i have
VietNam War – TET
war
60’s
Viet Nam
youth quickly lost
Greyscale TV’s final shock and awe
Written April 28, 2019
Contest: Tetractys This Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
rainbow idea
we need prisms in prison
uplifting inmates
plaid idea
We need design on shirts
even on Fox News women
paisley idea
We need to bring back the joy of the sixties
But leave the Viet Nam War behind
red hot lava lamp
shaggedy raggedy rug
peace sign plump flower
bell bottom hip huggers
fake fur vests and free love
open hearts, open ideas
nineteen seventy
volkswagon buses and Viet Nam
such a contradiction
Peace dove
Bay of Pigs
Childhood nightmare
President Kennedy
Peace dove
Peace dove
Viet Nam
Terror of Youth
Made 1960’s sad
Peace dove
Peace dove
The Gulf War
My daughter’s turn
In charge of deployment
Peace Dove
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
Trump Trying To Skate
Trump with bone spurs tried to skate,
Or from Viet Nam service forever wait;
Draft dodger;
Now old cadger;
Position of president for him did create.
Jim Horn
Amazing how America can make
jobs for various people regardless
of education and experience.
Budweiser T-shirt
And hair to my jaws,
Viet Nam waning
While Watergate roared:
Was a summer in Milford,
On Long Island Sound,
In a cottage with family—
We swam and we crabbed,
Suffered sunburn a lot,
And bikini-clad girls
Went stealing my eyes
To teach me of beauty
And life’s ultimate prize.
1972, Cam Thanh
her envelope is perfumed and fancy
an exquisite calligraphy with a flair
exuberant scrolled letters showing her personality
tiny hearts and stars at return address
Young G.I. leans back and smiles,
remembering his carefree life
before he ended up in this coconut forest
in Viet Nam
(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.
The child has grown to woman
Scorching burns
turned to hideous scars
She looks into the
mists of the bamboo forest
and still sees
phantoms
running into the village
at dawn
killing families
setting houses on fire
still sees herself
running from the
pain and horror
into the nothingness
of being alone
I've worn many types of headgear
since I was a little kid.
Mostly Golf and Baseball caps,
no matter what I did,
I guess I always wore a "Lid"!
But of all the "Lids" I ever wore,
my favorite - I'll exclaim,
was the Helmet I wore in Viet Nam,
no matter how annoying it became.
It was my favorite just the same.
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 ~
Her odd, obnoxious behavior did not bother me
Others were annoyed by Viet Nam born woman named Twee
She might not have done things exactly like the rest of us
But she was polite and respectful, and I never heard her cuss
I was not concerned that her culture was not the same as mine
She never imposed her ways or ideas on me; I thought she was fine.
I stand for the flag
It represents patriotism
I stand for justice, truth, freedom
I stand for the flag
It puts a lump in my throat
I stand to show respect to show love
I stand for the flag
It represents the Viet Nam War for me
And the Gulf War when my daughter enlisted
I stand for the flag
Because to me it represents those who gave the ultimate sacrifice
Standing is the least I can do
Chicken lover woman was engaged to Tom.
He was a chick lover, who got sent to Viet Nam.
When he did not return, she took over his farm.
She knew nothing of livestock, but what was the harm?
She fell in love with his chicks. Their peeps were a delight.
They kept her happy, they made her feel all right.
She was doing what Tom wanted to do when they were wed.
So, she wore chicks everywhere, even on her head.
She sits with his urn for a long time; in no hurry.
When it is gone, he is gone.
It was bad enough to lose him the first time.
They had only been married two weeks, when he got sent.
She ponders Viet Nam and wonders if anyone was with him.
Maybe that is why she is having such a hard time now.
Letting go of him means losing him again.
She sits with his urn, in no rush.
The sun goes down,
and still they sit.
She anticipated his brown eyes shining up
When he saw her skimpy beach cover all
She knew his heart would beat triple time
He would probably stumble on the beach
Their relieved embrace would go on forever and a day
She would get gritty with sand
It would be worth it
The announcement was made on Tuesday
He was not coming back from Viet Nam
She wore the coverup in his honor
Anticipating his smile from heaven
“Open your mouth!” the old lady demanded.
He clamped it shut, not what she commanded.
“Hey! I am warning you!” she swiftly shrieked.
She was holding a toothbrush that clearly reeked.
The turtle’s head pulled back, in a simple disappear.
She was getting senile, the poor old dear!
She thought the turtle was her little son, Tom.
When in fact to Viet Nam he had gone.
The turtle was his replacement, sad to say.
Tommy has been gone since 1969, in May.
During the quake of seventy-three I shivered and shook.
The rest of us stared at this guy, an ancient old cook.
The trembling that went on that day, gave me PTSD.
I looked at his granddaughter, glad he is no kin to me.
I am tired of these stories about disaster and such.
Living through Viet Nam War, and other ideas I can’t touch.
I am so far away from the man’s thinking I want to run away.
But Mom made this play date, so unfortunately, I must stay.
Blood drips through
all the black pages
of America's history book.
The Indian wars,
war between the states,
two World Wars, Korea,
Afghanistan, Iraq,
stealing our finest from us.
Let us not forget:
Liberty carries responsibility.
But the darkest page -
abuse of our own soldiers,
returning from a man-made hell
in the jungles of Viet Nam.
Fifty-eight thousand comrades lost,
their scars run deep.
Let us not forget:
Liberty bears a cost.
I couldn't watch; I plugged my ears.
(My husband turned it on.)
A sadness filled me up; I fear
My way of life is gone.
The new administration
Will not welcome folk like me
And in the next 4 years we can't
Predict how things will be.
I haven't felt this out of touch
Since protesting the war
(Viet Nam, while in college);
I was angry to the core.
But now that rage is tempered
By despondency and fear
For I never ever thought
That such a thing could happen here.
Gary returned to his small town with a plate in his head.
He had been bright but was not quite that much now.
A gung-ho soldier who had survived a year in Nam.
He spent the next year painting his car red white and blue.
He drove pretty girls around in parades after that.
A changed man, a soldier, who was never the same.
The entire town was proud of him and his car.
“He’s the guy who came back changed” we told each other.
Respecting his sacrifice and appreciating our freedom.
special delivery the snail-man said as he came up the walk
the recipient was so surprised, she forgot how to talk
the letter had been mailed from Viet Nam in seventy-two
How many years back? Let’s see…..fifty-two
what kept you? she asked, her fingers shaking the envelope.
I brought it straight to you, said the snail, thinking she was a dope.
He had brought it to her as fast as he could and on the double.
Maybe hiring snails to deliver mail is asking for some kind of trouble.
It is so cold
I feel
Like
A robot
Stove
No
Warm
Me
With
My old
War surplus
Gasbag
Viet Nam
Pants
Pulled
Over
My
Jeans
My
Body
Wants
Sex
My
Mind
Wants
Friends
Cooling
Already
To
A compromise
The
Inflatable
Santa
Next
Door
Just
Collapsed
Car
Screeching
Away
Ha
Ha
No
Point
In
Putting
Up
Those
Christmas
Lights
Tomorrow
Is there
it
Is
Raining
And
I
Miss
Carol
She
Gave
Me
The
Pants
After a
Protest
When