Nam Vets Returned
In my bed, John replayed
Memories of Asian hands,
Pink petals fell
On her dark hair,
While I held him.
I slept,
And he was gone.
In my bed, Bill replayed
Memories of Asian bombs,
Pain exploded
In his groin,
While he held me.
He slept,
And I was gone.
Nam maimed our generation,
A war fought for bitter fruit,
No victory won,
No laurels woven,
But youth torn
From soft beds of innocence,
We still cry for peace.
© 2008 Joyce Greene (All rights reserved)
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good one
It was hard to see the guys come back, haunted. I was talking to my kids about it yesterday what it was like, the aftermath. Thanks for writing this. raskin
This poem actually brings me to tears...
The pain is right under the surface after all these years. I'm glad it touched you - sometimes I think I'm the only one still suffering - I think many must be and just don't talk of it. Communication is so important - so many are silent.
joyce
It's interesting
I think your poem brought this up. My Dad was in the Chosin reservoir in Korea for years he didn't talk about it. My Mom talked about his waking in the night and the bad dreams. Then after many years he started talking about the stories of what had happened and they were and still are riveting. What I think is interesting now is some of the Viet Nam vets are starting to relay their stories, the ordinary guys of what their experience was about. Their stories of survival are also mesmerizing as well. Age and distance seem to help with the healing and give people the ability to relate their stories. Really what you have here which I think is remarkable is a story from the home front, the consequences always extend beyond the battlefield. Thank you for sharing this story. raskin
this is the story of three people...
each wounded by the war in his or her own unique ways, linked by love, at least for a while. The two stories in this piece are not dreams, but memories of men back from war and how those memories (and events relating to them) devastated their relationships. Hideously sad.
joyce
Incredible
Joyce,
You have woven a masterful piece here. Due to the fact that I served at the Porstmouth Naval Hospital during the height of the war I saw far too many physically and mentally screwed up young men come back from that travesty. The stories I could tell you would curl your toes.
Thanks for giving these poor bastards a moments notice, lord knows they deserve all they can get.
Your friend,
Pete
guess I have some experience with it, too, Pete...
It was a disaster and we ended it, "not with a bang, but a whimper" as TS Eliot would have said.
It hurt the men in excruciating ways, and the women and children (on both sides of the ocean) left behind in unbelievable ways! Agony.
Thanks for your wonderful comment! I feel so good when I hear those words from your mouth, because I know they are honest.
Your friend in poetry,
joyce
Joyce
God only knows just how close I came to having to go over there. I was a Dental Tecnician but when there was a shortage of Corpsman, who do think goes next? Trust me when I tell you that I KNOW how lucky I am.
Your heart is massive Joyce and I'm glad I get to share a piece of it with you here.
Your words are my words and my words are yours,
Pete
my current husband's number came up...
and then the war ended. His father had served and told my husband how lucky he was. I know, too, how lucky he was!
It must have been heart wrenching for you to endure the pain of others and then learn you may be the one to be sent next! My heart goes out to you and all others like you. You gave a great deal!
Thanks for the nice thoughts, Pete. You have made my day!
joyce
Your best yet!
Joyce -- This is a truly wonderful poem, very evocative and full of meaning for the Viet Nam generation. It also speaks to the experience of lovers generally, of course. This universality gives it great appeal. -- MS
thanks, Marylynn, that means a lot to me...
It was a hard time to be young, but I wonder if it is ever easy? Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on my poem.
joyce