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Array ( [sid] => 168836 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => untitled [time] => 2011-11-25 18:48:28 [hometext] => The Red River Delta 1971 [bodytext] => There's a sudden silence
in the jungle where I lay.
Must be Charlie's sneakin 'round again;
if he comes near enough,
I'll issue him his pay.

The stench of napalm's all around;
Must be the F's passed overhead.
Beneath me the now familiar feeling
of the spongy, mossy ground.

Tomorrow will be today's twin;
things don't change much here.
We'll shoot somemore, patrol somemore,
but we'll never win.

This aint our fight,
it never was;
what the f--- we doin here?
I ask God to get me out,
but He never does.

It don't mean I've lost faith in Him,
just scared as hell ya see.
Tired too of goin so far out
upon the limb.

Don't mind fightin for freedom's sake,
but hows bein here help that?
Lyin belly down in muck,
don't a hero make.

My bud owed me twenty bucks,
bad luck he befell;
not talkin 'bout last night's game;
today he took a mortar's shell.

And Billy B from way up in Alaska,
or so they say;
two weeks ago this Monday
took a trip back home to Nome
the hard way.

Oh yeah, and Johnny C
who loved to quote a psalm,
and tell the punchline of ajoke all wrong;
don't have to fret no more
'bout writin home to mom.

And was it Mick or Joe who said,
"My time here's nearly done?"
Don't matter which it was,
now that both are dead.

With all the death and mayhem
it's a chore to keep thoughts straight;
but one thing never changes,
I'm sick of Vietnam. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 78 [topic] => 57 [informant] => rick2 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => war )

untitled

Contributed by rick2 on Friday, 25th November 2011 @ 06:48:28 PM in AEST
Topic: war

There's a sudden silence
in the jungle where I lay.
Must be Charlie's sneakin 'round again;
if he comes near enough,
I'll issue him his pay.

The stench of napalm's all around;
Must be the F's passed overhead.
Beneath me the now familiar feeling
of the spongy, mossy ground.

Tomorrow will be today's twin;
things don't change much here.
We'll shoot somemore, patrol somemore,
but we'll never win.

This aint our fight,
it never was;
what the f--- we doin here?
I ask God to get me out,
but He never does.

It don't mean I've lost faith in Him,
just scared as hell ya see.
Tired too of goin so far out
upon the limb.

Don't mind fightin for freedom's sake,
but hows bein here help that?
Lyin belly down in muck,
don't a hero make.

My bud owed me twenty bucks,
bad luck he befell;
not talkin 'bout last night's game;
today he took a mortar's shell.

And Billy B from way up in Alaska,
or so they say;
two weeks ago this Monday
took a trip back home to Nome
the hard way.

Oh yeah, and Johnny C
who loved to quote a psalm,
and tell the punchline of ajoke all wrong;
don't have to fret no more
'bout writin home to mom.

And was it Mick or Joe who said,
"My time here's nearly done?"
Don't matter which it was,
now that both are dead.

With all the death and mayhem
it's a chore to keep thoughts straight;
but one thing never changes,
I'm sick of Vietnam.

Copyright © rick2 ... [ 2011-11-25 18:48:28]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: untitled (User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on Friday, 25th November 2011 @ 09:54:36 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

When I started reading this I was thinking Vietnam.
So sad but it's great writing.
Thank you for the time you spent over there. I can't see how it was for freedom either.
I've been thinking 'bout the deposit etc. They spend bunches of money for war and we the people and the soldiers and their families do with out for someone Else's country. I'm talking bout present day especially. Just don't make no sense to me. I've said it for years that if we want freedom we'll have to go to Russia. Any way's it great writing.
Blessings,
emy

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