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THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS
ON R & R
Looking back,
It all seems like just a dream.
I remember us
Running across sandy beaches.
There was no fear back then,
Of wet beaches.
The sea used to be
Such a good friend.
We never
Thought it would end.
I used to walk with Carol
Along those sandy dreamscapes.
The sea would beckon us,
Daring us, to ran naked
Into that cold
Northern California surf.
Beaches were for love,
Laughter and sunshine moments,
Or perhaps, some quiet surfing
With the local gods,
At Pleasure Point, Santa Cruz.
But
I never dreamed that beaches
Could be used as killing fields
And that blood
Would stain many tropical sands.
After Nam,
It will never be the same.
The beaches will never
Look or feel
Like they did, when I was
a much younger man
Living in
In another world.
#
1967
- Written while on R & R – Japan
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IN MEMORY OF AL
DURELL –US 56-422-224
He was a real funny kid
He had it made
a desk job in Saigon
and a momma-san for a maid.
But he wanted adventure
To fly with the best,
Volunteered
As a door-gunner,
And now
They’ll lay him to rest.
He was a funny kid
Really wanted
To play war,
Too bad
He got his final lay
From life’s biggest whore
He was a funny kid,
But no one is laughing
At what he did
No one at all
Is laughing.
#
1967
- Written while on R & R - Japan
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WRAPPED IN NATIONAL FLAGS
Death, covered
With dreams gone cold,
Frozen and wrapped
In cloth national flags,
Cries out
For justice,.
From
Coffin producing jungles
And star spangled
Fire fights.
The shadow
Of fear
Dances in the after glow of
Bursting explosions
But
Killing is a disease,
That can come quickly
And transform
Choirboys and saints
To warrior poets
And murders of sanity.
#
August, 1967
- South Vietnam
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RAIN
Rain,
Welcome cleanser of the soul,
Please
Transform
This graveyard
Of boys
And lost dreams.
Is it true that
Blood
Is thicker than rain water?
Rain,
Touch me and cleanse me.
Transform
This field of death.
Make spring flowers
Grow.
Let young, old men
Remember their dreams
Of youth
Once again.
#
July 5, 1967
- South Vietnam
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