|
A web site that shares the emotional and spiritual experiences of the Vietnam War through poetry, stories, and photos by combat veterans. Hosted by Vietnam Veteran Bill McDonald HOME PAGE The Tomahawks The Robin Hoods Women's Nam Experiences Photos More Photos Spiritual War Stories War Stories War Poetry Vietnam Poets Tribute Pages Newsletters Veteran Website Links Women's Nam Links Helicopter Company Links Military Links Support Network PX Art Gallery Books FAQ's POW/MIA The Sharon Ann Lane Foundation Veteran Charities Links Veteran Bulletin Board Huey Film Project Return trips back to Nam WAR Data Education/Trips Guestbook Website Awards Reunions Military Writers Society of America |
|
Lust rain Preying on dryness Eating up the land And rushing off To some no-where else. We all together Cannot be damned For letting you win After all, Your wetness rolled by, Taking with it our mud, Tears, blood, And even hope. Until time Blew sand Over our eye-sores And the wind Kissed our dead. # FOURTH OF JULY 1967 SOUTH VIETNAM Rockets red glare! Fourth of July! My mother-country So far away, We are your bleeding womb Filled with young boy warriors. We are your naked dead and dying sons. We are your forgotten heroes. We are your Home sick dreamers, And poets, Seeking reunion With the world We once belonged to. Do not forget us, # Someplace in Washington DC, War machine manufacturing whores Dine and wine With old congressmen At fancy French restaurants. While I sit here Absorbing the rain, And eating out of a small tin can, That is neatly set On top of a muddy sand bag. It just seems That the truth Must be some place out there But no one can see it And no one Wants to stop The rain. # CAROL HAS IT BEEN A HUNDRED YEARS? My tired War torn heart And body Wants to stop The reality of this dream. I want to wake myself up And roll over And find you there. Memories, Of your flashing, sunshine smile, And soft laughter, Brings me a moment Of sanity In this insane place Filled with dying And Lonesome young poets. # June 1967 War Zone C South Vietnam
My mind bleeds With emotions That as I child, I never thought And only dreamt In movies. There are no more dreams Of John Wayne Leading the charge Up some glory hill For the movie cameras. No flag raising Photo opportunities For those who Have lost both arms And legs and No medals That could possibly restore My faith, Let alone my soul, To that Star Spangled fever Of my youth. For me There will never be Another American Dream. Not when I have lived The American Nightmare! # Mother to be, Ripened with creation And lingering On the edges of hope. Your child, Still has embryo warm smiles. What kind of a world Can he anticipate, When your womb Releases him And cuts the cord That binds him to heaven? Will He some day have to look Back at us Through the eyes Of a dead soldier? # |
|
All material is copyright protected 1991- 2008 Permission is required to use any photos, stories or poetry from this website. CONTACT WEBMASTER |