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This Is A Place Of Remembrance
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The moonlight upon the hills of home
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(for GreyEagle)
NVA, and Americans alike,
have searched the hill tribes for MIA and KIA and evidence they
could bring home.
The old ones speak of their tribal Brothers
and that no Americans sleep here.
They tell the truth, for our Brothers
are of
the tribes.
America does not deserve them anymore.
The small people have given them
a resting place.
A home.
CAL
in prayer for all their souls gone home in Vietnam
©June 2003
........end of story
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Sleeping on the wind.....!
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We live,
day to day,
in dreams
of home
and liberty....!
....the dead live within us,
riding our horses
within our dreams.
Liberty!
Oh God .....
..... How I love thee.
Ghosts
and.......phantom
angels
are waving their arms
as we travel our stolen world
alone.
No warrior can ever
be at home.
We remain
old,
and silver haired .
.....never belonging
to anyone........here
at home.
We dance for a moment
and then
...we disappear.
One by one,
we say a poem,
.....we sing our song,
......and then
we disappear.
Caliber
©jun 20
2003
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just one moment in time..... (long ago)
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I guess it was
...just a moment.
Why does it seem forever
to me.
Just one moment
when no one
really cared....
but it was a moment
I shared.
A moment in my life
that happened.........
and I cared.
.........and now it has gone away.
I follow......,so slowly as I
follow it all the way.
Home.
CALIBER
©Jun 2003
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Offerings
Di Di mau fu cockadau
Better run Sons of Nam
This is war
Chu Hoi floating
Paper peace offering
Denied
I aim to kill
..Makes no difference to7.62
That's what IT and I came to do..
Jungles not forgiving
..Not on the sweetest day
Do not offer thyself
Better not lai dai Ko
Your silky satin dress
And your graceful gate,
Shimmering black hair,
Sweet vision of Nam,
..Run far away,
Di Di, Ko,
.. For My perfume is burnt powder
and my gifts are of spent brass.
IT is my offering to Ho
..He is your Master
My love is not for you..
One more dead dink
.Drawing flies on hot red clay
a bloated offering to their young.
Chow Um! Enemy mine
Sin loi!
..Gonna be another
Stink filled day
..Bier La rue
. a temporary fix
But ain't that the way
IT is?
Be aware FNG's
.For the child is wired
Big toothed and smiling
As he begs for Chop Chop
And with fingers entwined
Makes popping sounds,
Offering his Mamma Sanh
For MPC
.Just before the flash..
Killing all.
Sapper equals unsuspected
detonation...
But aint that the way
IT is?
Golden Robe
.Fueled in protest
Blazing Monk offering himself
To Buddha
No cries, no emotions
Black smoke rises
Taking with it a soul,
And life goes on without change
In the city of Hue
.As the perfume river flows
.All is as it should be
.All is as it can be
.As the sun casts its shadows
.As if by the hand of death
.Death is the incense of this land,
But ain't that the way
IT is?
These offerings
We, so called Dinky Dau
Numbuh ten thousand GI's
Never asked for.
..Sin Loi!
Never planned for.
.Sin Loi!
Never prepared for.
.Sin Loi!
These offerings
Are forever ours
From those days past
And.
In this present time.
Shouldn't have been.,
My brothers,
But ain't that the way
IT is?
©Boondocker, 6/ 21/ 03
Recollections,
RVN, 66-67
Mentor
Too many days without the comfort of a hot meal
Too many pressures of war the will it seems to steal.
So many lost that one couldnt count, but to their memories be drawn.
Only faith in God keeps us able to go on.
So we continue..
To what?
To a day when we can go home?
No one knows for sure.
Around the bend lies another fight
No mercy sought none given, thats our plight.
A fight to the death of those that participate
A feeling of accomplishment surely will we what we accentuate.
Slowly each moves on
.To an unknown destiny.
Getting to know another friend soon to be a brother.
.. Who among us knows?
Ten wounded ten dead should be more than an adage.
Cant seem to make sense of the reason for the carnage.
I guess its not my mission to reason why
So many have to die.
Thirty-six years of wonder and sorrow
If I live another thirty-six starts tomorrow.
To remember many but one memory cant be broken
For he was more than a friend he was a brother not just a war token.
1st Lt. Ervin Jake Burns, a friend, brother and mentor..
He was more to many and in their lives he was the center.
I will host one drink to his memory
..Then thank God for his allowing Jake to be my friend.
©David R. Alexander
June 22, 2003
All Rights Reserved
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(A sacred prayer)
He held his hands toward the dying Sun,
palms up, and praying,
he held them.
.....and the silence came upon him,
as a small bird
with tired wings.
His prayer came from his eyes.
Tears
... that washed the weariness
from his face.
........and then he looked into my eyes
one last time,
........and the scars upon his flesh,
....the scars of his life
and his war,
......just disappeared.
He looked into my soul
... and I lifted him up
once more.., into my arms,
and he smiled
for the last time.
...... held on to life,
no more
....forever!
CAL |
©LJKlaiber 6/22/03 |
Start But No Finish!
Marching along with only the sergeants voice on their mind
"Jody was home when you left, your right" and more of that kind.
Up the hill and over again to the rifle range they went
Never a thought of anything else for they were going to be Rangers they were hell bent.
The physical training was rough if you were from the city
The boys from the country for them found not one bit of pity.
Eating out of a tin pan and drinking from the canteen
Not one man jack of them actually thought the sergeant was mean.
Finished with their training, and off to their first assignment
What joy and relief they felt at their reassignment.
Arriving at a new duty, not knowing what to expect
Now at least some of the new guys would show them some respect.
Short lived was the assignment that held such glee
For within a few short months they were ordered to so with more like you and me.
Across the waters to a distant land
Many now wished that they had that mean old sergeant to give a guiding hand.
Into the bush and with new men they didnt know
But together they would bond and fight an opposing foe.
First just strangers, then friends, then brothers
Sure they watched and depended on them and no others.
Watching many die, when they knew that it could be them
With each day and each death, they grew of friendship to condemn.
Knowing that when friends become so and they give their all
It leaves a place within them that no one or nothing can stall.
Such is the life of a combat veteran, and all the thoughts he can contrive.
As he does his duty and as he fights to survive.
One learns that death isnt the worse thing that can be
Dealing with the deaths and mutilations will sometimes cause for death for one to plea.
©David R. Alexander
June 23, 2003
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Food.... Not Of The Gods
There is a Beggar
Who waits to be fed,
a Visitor from the
Kingdom Of The Dead
The Beggar hovers,
silent in the sun
Passing in His shadow...
a life cycle is now done
He is a dark figure
standing in the Iraqi sands
and stretching forth to some,
.......... His bony hands
Soldiers chosen
for this Specters band
will never....
...go home again
For their life,
He does crave...
His dinner table
is at their lonely grave
A feast He does always win....
The grave is sated for now,
until this beggar, Death,
...is hungry again...
©Faye Sizemore 6/24/03 |
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