Writings Of Boondockers Poetic Justice Members
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Lighter Side Of BPJ
Lighter Side #2
Lighter Side #3
4TH OF JULY 2003
THE KOREAN WAR REMEMBERED /July 27,1953-July27,2003 50 years

This is a place of remembrance



Find Your Own Way Home

In a muddy field in the middle of Vietnam

Pinned down by the enemy in this land of the damn.

Only eighteen of us left to fight

Not one sole cares about our plight.


The slightest movement draws fire

Nothing to do but lay here in this mire.

Water Buffalo dung floating on the water

Charlie can sense the slaughter.


Called for help from the powers that be

Just a little help was our only plea.

Just a stones throw from the shelter of a bank of mud

But not a sole to come to our rescue in this flood.


Then as we were low as we thought we could be

The radio squawk had a sobering effect on me.

But the news came and about the LZ we called home.

"Cant help, and the choppers are flying, youll have to find your own way home"


Cursing and swearing at the commanders and others

We now had just us on to which to depend, my brothers.

The VC had not been able to advance

Finally we took our last chance.


Crawling in the slime, mud and rain

We made it to safety before after us they came.

Safety consisted of a hill of mud from which we had the higher ground.

With a little luck and superior firepower we knocked Charlie down.


They broke contact and left us alone

Now all we had to do was find our own way home.

In the middle of a moonless night

Praying that tonight we wouldnt again have to fight.


Six hours later we found the perimeter

Once inside and secure

I was summoned to the commanders tent

Once there and found him warm and dry and I was about spent.


"Good job Lt." he said, "I knew you could find your own way home."

"You see, when left to your own devices, you guys didnt roam."

My platoon Sgt. Looked at me and I at him at last

And we both told the commander to kiss our BRASS.

İDavid R. Alexander
March 4, 2003

All Rights Reserved


A Quiet Choice

look at us.....seem familiar?

armchair debate of rights and wrongs
students with signs in the streets
discussions disagreement
sharp razor sharp
echoing the past
severing the cable that holds us together
again ever again

young soldiers
poised at the very brink hearing seeing
distractions angry shouts of dissent

old soldiers
who know that distraction can mean

decisions many decisions to come
but only one that I can make
and I have

I will be silently hopeful

I will not be

a distraction

{c}3/6/03 Randy Richmond


We Were There

We were there at The Battle of the Marne September 1914

We were there at St Mihiel in September 1917

We never wavered nor gave an inch

Fighting from the beaches and from every ditch.

We were there at Pearl Harbor December 1941

We were there at Guadalcanal August 1942

We were there at The Battle of the Bulge in December 1944

Again fighting for our country, liberty with all the death and the gore.

We were there June 25, 1950 along with our Australian brothers

We were there on the 26th as the country held it breath we could hear the weeping of our mothers,

We were there at Pusan along with the Australians and R.O.K. Armies

With each battle all the brothers fought and motive of each one could draw an analogy.

We were there at the Ia Drang Valley, Kontum, Hue, and Khe Sanh,

We were at Saigon, LZ English, and Bon Son

We were there from 1951 till leaving in 1975

This time the country divided by deceit and lies.

We were there January 17, 1991, when the bombs found targets in Baghdad to attack.

We were there February 28 when the allied brothers stood side by side and entered Iraq.

We stood tall on March third when victory was declared.

The causalities cared for and the soldiers war was won, and grieving families tears were shared.

We will be there if ever the need arise

We will stand with our brothers as they say goodbye

If again we find it necessary to see that day well stand beside you and often kneel to pray.

Know also that you go to defend a grateful nation and world no matter what the few may say.

İDavid R. Alexander
March 8, 2003

All Rights Reserved


The Sound of Silence

by Gary Jacobson

In the silence of innocent lambs

Warriors slip in and out of combat jams

Comes a hush after battle's raucous crush

Run its fiery course adrenaline's rush

Deadening noise where silence reigns

Caught in stifled sleep the living feigns

Boys listening in dark and dusky night

Throat strangled tight

Painfully pay heed to creeping shadows

Men go deathly silent in agonizing throes...

Fill my silence with dry tears

In the night of a thousand fears

Giving ear to men coming to kill

Shedding blood their greatest thrill

Spurring on the wild beast of war

Riding to destroy all that comes before

Hot hatreds voices fill

Over forested rock and rill

Filling combatants silent void

Trying thoughts of death somehow to avoid...

Silence on the lonesome night hangs

Thoughts of home but empty pangs

Displayed in light of a killing moon

Beating on weary heartstrings a throbbing tune

Rubbing hot spurs up and down trembling spines

Shards cold as death confines

Shooting shadows of silence defining

Bullets cutting through forests adventuring

Proudly by patriotic duty sought

Determined to find a souls destined spot...

Quietly in the dust I die

Daring not in the midst of enemies to cry

Bearing a thousand deaths in silence

Paying at long last the Devil's penance

Laid down a body red by bloody fever flushed

Neath solemnly sacred ground so still, so hushed

Grisly maw agape in death's primal scream

Gone on to fight with heaven's first team...

Offended eyes open wide, searching forever

Pleading still in silence, forget me never...

İ3/7/03 Gary Jacobson


A Lonesome soldier

Sitting in a booth all alone
A young soldier thinks of home
No friends to bid him farewell
Fear inside and no one to tell.
A young blond haired girl standing there
Takes his order while she pushes back her hair.
She notices the forlorn look upon his face
And sees that he looks so out of place.
She smiles as he takes a sup from his coffee cup
He is shy and only slightly looks up.
As she continues to do her chores
She cant help but notice he isnt really there anymore.
As she brings him his check
He ask if she could sit a moment, so what the heck.
He tells her that he is all alone
And no one cares that he soon will be far from home.
She says can he wait a minute till the end of shift?
She would give him a lift.
As they ride to the train station,
She soon comes to a stark sensation.
He has no one left to give a damn
And tomorrow he would be leaving for Vietnam
They sit at the edge of the river bend
He asks if he could write her now and then.
Nothing but talk happens that night
She just knows she has met Mr. Right.
They talk till the dawn
By eight oclock he was gone.
Letters came several at first
Then fewer as he was in the land of the cursed
The last letter she had received
Explained the reason, and she was relieved.
Then came the big High School football game
At half time the announcer ask that they stand as he read some names
These are the men that have died in Vietnam this week
The last name was the young soldier, she couldnt speak.
No one seemed to understand
Why she cried sitting there in the stands
For no one knew these men that had died
So why did she just sit and cry?
Never again would she hold his hand
Never again would she see this young man.
Lost forever in Vietnam
The land of the jungle the war of the damned.

İDavid R. Alexander
March 12, 2003
All Rights Reserved


Prayer for the Warriors
by Gary Jacobson

Bless our vigilant warriors
Give strength to overcome to valiant saviors
Our sons and daughters, wherever they may be
On land, sky, or sailing the briny sea...
Safeguard those so lonely, so far from home
In times blackened dark, yet adventuresome
Watch over them, our brothers, sisters, where they go
Guide them wisely in times they do not know.

Read the rest of the poem to stirring music and battle action



Rotor Slap

Lying face down in muddy rice patty without any dry ground

Not a way to move as Charlie has us pinned down.

Taking fire for over an hour waiting for the choppers to come in

They are always welcome kinda like a long lost friend.

Bill and Chester are wounded but not very bad

Chester said he had a million dollar wound best hurt he ever had.

Now Bill made no such comment, as his was the worse of the two

He even let out a curse or two as he waited for the choppers to come though.

Charlie was well prepared this time as soon we found out

Must have known we were coming without a doubt.

Only about five klicks from LZ English

A simple patrol, a short venture we were told; now I only wish.

Must be a platoon of them and well hidden within the brush

Too many of them for this squad to rush.

Holding on no movement can we see

But a slight movement and a bullet would hit us we agree.

These choppers are great and we know they will come

Never have they let us down no matter how bad it had become.

We listen as the stench of the manure of the patty fills our breath

This isnt the first time the choppers will have saved us from death.

Well know before they get here because of that wonderful sound

A kinda funny slap as the sound hits the ground.

Chester, says quietly the choppers gave me their position on the map

Listen we can hear the rotor slap.

It isnt long till the choppers are all around

Charlie wanting no truck with them decides not to stick around.

Cutting the wind and to our rescue those wonderful chaps

But the best sound of all is that wonderful rotor slap.

İDavid R. Alexander

March 14, 2003

All Rights Reserved


Circuit Riding Preacher

Repent from your wicked ways the Preacher would yell

If you dont, then your spend eternity in hell.

AMEN, would come the echo clear as a bell.

Find your way to the Lord, his gifts will never cease

You will walk on streets of gold and find eternal peace

AMEN, came the echo from the crowd and the volume would increase.

Today, maybe ,the last day of your life

Confess your sins to the Lord and end your strife

AMEN, again came the roar of the congregation, that cut like a knife.

As a small lad, I remembered it well

Careful not wanting to sin or spend eternity in hell

AMEN, would come to me and I could hear it so well.

Heed the call before it is too late

Fill NOT your life with violence and hate

AMEN, again would be the final yell, before its too late.

Now I was in Vietnam, a man made hell

I prayed to the Lord to show me where I should dwell

AMEN, I could hear in my mind as I knelt to pray ,asking the Lord to tell.

For I must have done something, for here I am to stay

Not sure if I was right or wrong or if Id die this day

AMEN, came again as I finished up my prayer must move without delay.

It took me a long time to realize that in this hell on earth whether you live or die

My Lord was surely there, and on him I must rely

AMEN, I can now hear the congregation agree, that God was on high.

I oft would remember that ole Circuit Riding Preacher

That came by our backwoods church, a seeker and a teacher

AMEN, I say now ,for he was a man of God, this Circuit Riding Preacher.

İDavid R. Alexander

March 15, 2003
All Rights Reserved


Blue Star Mothers

Mothers... do weep...
but your faithfulness keep
You raised your sweet children...
You raised them to reconize a wrong
to always defend and protect those not strong
to seek the truth in this cruel world
Now about them the battles may swirl
They have their promises to keep
Mothers ....with you we weep.......

When war does rage
recorded again on historys` page
and Death counts its` toll
pray your children are not on its role
This matters above everything
for when it is done and freedom does ring
Mothers, your praises they will sing
But for now its` price is so steep
Mothers....for you we weep......

İFaye Sizemore 3/15/03


Iraq Revisited

Saddam,I remember you .....and the death bell
.......... your hand did toll from the steeple...
...................I heard it sound for the Iraqi people...
........who died in your manufactured Hell.............

Phases run through my mind..........
Pieces of old memories.............now frozen in time

Peace keepers.............armed truth seekers.......
................arms inspectors..........flaming oil wells
...................battles in sandy Hells....

peace did come.....under the blazing sun.....
..................but a deed was left undone.........

İFaye Sizemore 3/18/03


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