January 27, 1973
I was sitting in the barracks
yelling and screaming echoed through the halls
sirens blaring, horns blowing, fireworks popping;
the war was over
For Those Thrust into War's Maw
by Michael R. Burch
This poem is dedicated to Harvey Stanbrough, an ex-marine who was nominated for the 1999 Pulitzer Prize and has written passionately and eloquently about the horror and absurdity of war in “Lessons for a Barren Population.”
No, I will never know
what you saw or what you felt,
thrust into the maw of Eternity,
watching the mortars nightly
greedily making their rounds,
hearing the soft damp hiss
of men’s souls like helium escaping
their collapsing torn bodies,
or lying alone, feeling the great roar
of your own heart.
But I know:
there is a bitter knowledge
of death I have not achieved,
and in thankful ignorance,
and especially for my son
and for all who benefit so easily
at so unthinkable a price,
I thank you.
Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetic Reflections and Poetry Super Highway as "Privilege." Keywords/Tags: Vietnam War, marines, military, service, honor, duty, bravery, heroism, maw, mortars, rounds, souls, escaping, bodies, corpses, death, heart, roar, bitter, knowledge, thanks, thank you, war, violence, USA, military, courage, patriotic, hero
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
Seeing Ghosts
I walk around the streets
Of old Saigon
Seeing sensing the undead
The ghosts of the war
That haunted life
So many years ago
So many people died
For a war
That never should have been fought
For reasons that are still not clear
A great tragedy unfolded
In a land half away
Around the world
The ghosts smile at me
And then they disappear
Leaving me in the present
Life goes on
Vietnam War Memorial Wall
58,318
Victory
Into
End
The
Names
At
Memorial
Worshiping
Americans
Remembering
Meaningful
Everlasting
Memory
Of
Real
Individuals
A
Love
Written
All
Lost
Lives
Contest Two: Your Best Poem that is trophy worthy Two
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Dated Entered: 10/01/2019
I believe this poem is trophy worthy for the meaning behind it, a trophy is only a symbol, this is a true story that needs to be kept alive for the 58,318 lives who died for this country and the freedom to have theses contest.
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
The slickness of a blade
pressing against a throat....
the cold steel meeting tender flesh
blood drips and a body tumbles
the taste.... the sight... the sound....
all quite euphoric.....
Ripped clothes, smashed items,
echo screams, and the raging fires that glow throughout the night
The beauty.... the savagery.... the destruction
all quite euphoric....
I Was Very Eager to Go with Him,
My Most Trusted Friend.
Even I Was a Bit Surprised
At How Trusted He Was in the End.
We Went out on Patrol Each Night.
You Would Always See Us Together.
I Couldn’t Tell You How Much I Loved Him,
If I Could, I Would Sleep at His Feet Forever.
Now, You May Think That Strange,
But I’m a German Shepard Named “Jack”.
And If it Hadn’t Been for Me
My Friend Would Not Have Gone Back.
He Went Home to His Family...
To His Two Little Girls and Wife.
If I Had it to Do All over Again..
Yes...I Would Still Have Given My Life.
That Is What I Was Trained to Do,
I Was a War Dog in Vietnam.
Some of Us Lived to Come Home.
But Others like Me...didn’t Live So Long.
But I Don’t Think I Am Forgotten,
My Friend Stayed with Me to the End.
That Is Why I Would Do it Again...
He Called Me Jack.....And He Was My Friend
His daddy died from workin’, the boy dropped out of school,
He should’ve hid out in college, that patriotic fool.
His mama, she was weepin’ that day he raised his hand,
He wrote her almost ev’ry week from a Southeast Asian land.
He led his men in battle, he risked his ass each day,
He hit the dirt but not in time when a bullet came his way.
A purple decoration—rehabilitation, and an ex-wife—
And now his nation’s awarding him…just twenty years to life.
The details they don’t matter, no, it’s just some Veteran’s crime,
The Vietnam War ain’t over yet, it takes a long, long time.
Psychiatrists and lawyers, they fashioned his defense,
They tried to make him crazy, but the jury took offense.
Now he don’t sniff that cocaine, no, and all he drinks is beer;
But he’s got memories in living color, they re-run all so clear.
He hears those people screamin’, he sees the bombs’ bright light—
It all came back one fatal night…inside that bar-room fight.
The details don’t matter, no, it’s just some Veteran’s crime,
The Vietnam War ain’t over yet, it takes a long, long time.
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