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The Slow-Bullet
by rgpage

In the early days of  Viet Nam
the American draft was going strong.
Young men in their prime of life,
were forced and herded into world strife.

A generation of America’s best, were
then brought home and laid to rest.
Wall Street smiled, the money flowed
the “fat Cats” called it money owed.

In towns and cities big and small,
families waited, worried, and cried.
Groups appeared, dissention grew.
"Mothers grab your son’s and hide."

There were those who felt their duty strong,
to take the leap toward blood and strife
with McNamara herding them along.
Known to the grunts as “Mac the Knife.”

The madness grew to a global scale
with those that were for and those against.
In bombing, selective targets became the norm
keeping the rest of the world from harm.

With those who didn’t feel their duty strong,
a path to the north they took.
They packed what they could, burned their cards
and paused for one last look.

With this some parents felt relief,
while others felt the disgrace. Of  seeing
the grief so many went through after
having their futures erased.

The war took over 58,000 American lives;
men and women both, (before we flew away).
Wall Street got their wages for blood, with
broken lives in pain, many thousands more would pay.

With thousands more that were yet to be lost, after returning home.
Physically and mentally scarred, even those seeming
perfectly whole. Then saying good-by to the ones they loved
in their own special way. They stoically waited for the slow-bullet to come to finally take them away…



Suicide has taken 3 or 4 times the lives than the war took. My heart cries for every last one of them…Robert G. Page, Viet Nam Vet. ‘66-’67.
Blurred and fast they race
the intangible senses on my walkway
dragging me through a maze of madness
my perceived traverse of each day!

As I try to feel them in their fullness
save each as a precious find
they melt away in their secluded recess
leaving me to ***** in my mind!

I search bewitched in their spell
if can find a trace of their tint
but only see upon the trail
their inscrutable footprint!

Thus I traverse each day
seeking to unravel the maze
of my indecipherable walkway
obscured in yet ungrasped haze!
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.


translated by W.S. Merwin
 Feb 2014 agalwithwords
Nicole
People use faith to keep themselves from hating life
They say that lack of a following of a religion constitutes as "evil"
Yet life itself is evil.
Hatred seeds from prior hatred
Like dominos, everyone falls
But faith and religion act as a harness
And a suit of armor
Keeping everyone safe from the evils of life
Yet evil is truth
So they can remain in their world of lies and comfort
Hypocritically hating, just as they claim to detest
I'll live on the outside, in evil per say
You can fuel the fire, judge me forever
I'll let you be and go my own way.
Im not saying anything in religion is wrong, its just an opinion
 Feb 2014 agalwithwords
r
Photograph
 Feb 2014 agalwithwords
r
I can't recall
The writing on the wall
It wasn't me who put it there

Our time went fast
It wasn't meant to last
It disappeared I don't know where

You came to me
Asked me to set you free
Knowing I would because I care

Cut it in half
Love is a photograph
A painful memory to share

r ~ 26Jan14
 Feb 2014 agalwithwords
r
Let me be the step that guides your dance.
Let me be your hope not left to chance.
Let me be the wind that glides your wings.
Let me be your snow that fills the springs.
Let me be the fire that gives you light.
Let me be your dream that comes at night.
Let me be the mountain to your plain.
Let me be your stream that fills with rain.
Let me be the heat that makes you sigh.
Let me be your answer to the why.
Let me be the ocean to your tide.
Let me be the one that’s by your side.
And I will.

r ~ 5Feb14
In response to Nat's request to warm up my winter pen and step out of the cold for a spell.
 Feb 2014 agalwithwords
r
The hours before dawn
are as much a territory
as moments in time
Alone in a darkened world
listening to sounds the
morning shares with me
and I alone
A rustle of a small creature
settling more comfortably
in its bed beneath frozen branches
within a pine-straw burrow
The creak of ice-burdened limbs
high in the loblolly pines
The crack of ice breaking loose
to land on frozen deck
like an echo of a rifle shot
from many years ago
The pecking of small pellets of
sleet upon my glazed blue
tin roof with dragon's teeth
icicles hanging above my head
This is my territory
and my hours
before the
dawn

r ~ 12Feb14
During the passing of winter storm Pax/Feb 2014
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