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 May 2018 krm
Melissa S
The lonely lighthouse full of the sea and of its salt
In the distance ship horns can be heard
with their loud billowing swells
Up above the grey gulls cawing with their wings
fluttering looking for any crumbs
None will be found here and no happy visitor
greetings either only sad dormant farewells

Why do I feel so dull, Why is it I feel myself as just half a life and just half a light
Please help me find my light that once shone so bright from within
Help me find my purpose and to feel useful again

This lighthouse beacons for me
~ can hear him and can feel him
I could see what he use to be
what he could still be so easily again
I could see that light that shone from within
After all, I knew how he felt I too
had built up a lonely darkened wall

So I went to this lighthouse told him
your light has been there this whole time
You do not need a new light you are already
a brightness a joy for all to see
All you needed was some help to find it again
All you needed was me

I hold him and tell him close your eyes
Look up toward the sky my love
Feel that cool sea air tickle your face
Let that enormous sense of calm descend down
match your breath to that of the sea and all else shall be erased
I wrote this for a special friend that needed reminding that he was still a bright light for all to see and that he never lost it just needed a friend to help find it xoxo
 May 2018 krm
Melissa S
Drawn to each other by some magnetic force
Someone else pulls the strings on this course
Two magnets attracting each other with a tight bond
Meeting any controversy with repellant and despond
This mysterious force drives us together night after night
Never ever fearing because its our preemptive right
 Apr 2018 krm
Regen Williams
vietnam
 Apr 2018 krm
Regen Williams
to be in love
is to love a man
who lived in the past

he is on the far right in
that photo of your grandfather and
his platoon from
the vietnam war

he is a stranger to you yet
he is strong
worldly
a hero

he is dead

but you are in love

to be in love
is to love a man you
have made up in your head
to be more to you
than they truly are
 Apr 2018 krm
spysgrandson
Goodbye Charlie, Hello Vietnam.

Nineteen. I was ten and nine. Two A.M. Landed in some muggy, putrid place. Between honor and complete disgrace. Smelled like that for sure.  Issued tools of our trade. Heard the true sound of “rockets red glare”. Had us hunkering in bunkers all night. ******* in our helmets. Holding our ears. ****, the first night. Welcome to Vee-et-nam.

Morning. Sunshine and quiet. Except the rap from old timers. “Newbies“. New jungle fatigues. Newbies. New M-16. Clean boots. All day the old timers, telling each other how these newbies had their cherry popped. First night in country and the biggest *** mortar attack they had ever seen. Heard. Heard, I said. Yeah. What newbie? Now you have heard the real rockets’ red glare. That’s what you heard, Newbie.

I get it. Newbies are ****. We are **** and they aren’t going to waste a breath telling us anything. Watch. Watch and learn. I hope. Lines. Lines to get our teeth rinsed with fluoride. Lines. To chow. To get more shots. To in country orientation. Lines. Memorize lines. Lines to get ammo. Lines to get orders.

No line at the outhouse. Gray three seater. Heat roasting our ****. Old timer kicked the planks before he sat down beside me in the stench. I asked the question but only with my eyes. Kick the planks before you sit down so rats won’t bite your ***** off. Kick the planks to scare off the rats. Rats. The size of possum. Not an exaggeration. Possum rats. Rat possums. Who the hell knew? Just kick the planks. Save your *****.

More lines. Then darkness. Then more booms. Not incoming. Our own. 1-5-5s. Learn the difference newbie so you don’t crap your drawers for nothing. That’s the boys in that artillery firebase keeping Charlie awake for the night. Returning the favor. Charlie. Sounds like a name you would call someone who was a buddy doesn’t it? Charlie. Victor Charlie. V C. ***** Charlie. **** Charlie. Charlie this and Charlie that. Oh, Charlie would eat that rat.

My first duty. Guarding Charlie. Prisoner with leg blown off at the knee in our clean smelling dispensary. Hands strapped to bed rails. MP and I assigned night shift. Keep each other awake . Looked at Charlie. Charlie looked at me. Smirk. Then spit. Landed on my boot. My newbie boot. Not a newbie boot anymore. Charlie squirms. Spits again and misses. MP gets up and threatens to bash Charlie in Charlie’s little head. Medic comes and gives squirming, smirking, spitting Charlie shot of good drugs. Charlie doesn’t spit on medic. Charlie gets drowsy. I get drowsy. MP falls asleep. I stand up. Newbie afraid to fall asleep on guard duty. I wake the MP before shift change. Charlie is up. Smirk, smirk. Thus spoke Charlie. The only conversation I ever had with Charlie.

Medic says Charlie getting on a bird to someplace. Can’t remember where. Anyplace.   Charlie leaving and me staying. Ain’t that a hoot--all it cost him was a boot. Envy is a word I learned that day. Cost him part of a leg medic says when I tell him I wish I was Charlie just then. Had heard tales about people shooting off their toes to get out of the ‘nam. “**** tales” I would call them, since I heard so many in those gray crappers. Rats. Possum rats and your *****. ***** or a limb? Did I really want to be him? I don’t really remember. I didn’t want to be there--somewhere between honor and complete disgrace. Bye Charlie. Hello Vietnam.
mostly true story from a while ago--the only short story I have posted here
 Apr 2018 krm
Mike Essig
Sadly,
you can take the boy
out of the jungle,
but you can
never
take the jungle
out of the boy.
- mce
 Apr 2018 krm
John
In Vietnam
 Apr 2018 krm
John
I was tripping, tripping
Over to Vietnam
Their hands were ripping, slipping
In hot blood
While I asked how many people they've shot
How many kids?
How many villages burnt with a fire so hot
So cold, the beers cracked open
Sweating like the citizens trying to stay alive
Rage trapped in their heart-like pig pens

I was told to take pictures
Told to record every explanation
Every lieutenant major gave a lecture
As calves were sewn to thighs
Thighs sewn, stitched
The thighs piled high
In buckets of ****** ice

I might have a son
I visited a madam
Down in la Drang Valley
Should've kept it in my pants
Now my sons running naked
Through streets paved in fresh blood
Pros ably pushing drugs or kidnapping women
Selling women
Because his mother was sold to me
In Vietnam
Had the weirdest dream last night. I was a journalist or a soldier/photographer in Vietnam in the late 60s. This is a product of said dream.
 Apr 2018 krm
SøułSurvivør
~~~^♡^

black light posters
lava lamps
purple haze
and mega amps

bright **** rugs
in pink and green
long straight hair
or Afro-Sheen

go ask Alice
how time flies
starships blast off
In her eyes

yellow ribbons
in her hair
Vietnam
Scarborough Fair

beaded curtain
leather n lace
brains are gone
without a trace

Mother Mary
let it be
flower power
love for free

you can find
a cause to bend
but it's hard
to find a friend

psychedelic
music blasts
what was "groovy"
now the past


soulsurvivor
5/10/2015

~~~^♡^
blast from the past

~~~^♡^
 Apr 2018 krm
BlueBird
I daydream of an alternate universe where I breathe steady, and all the names of my resentments dont exist. Where the voice inside my head that says Im unlovable, doesnt sit just below the surface - hitting every loving word away with a baseball bat.

Its a space where I my skin drinks in real connection like its the first sunny day after a long winter. It doesnt hide anymore, my entire body welcomes kindness in like its an old friend. My days and nights melt together like a run on sentence, about the stars and everything that makes me feel like gravity doesnt exist.
 Apr 2018 krm
dravenstorm
Mom, Don't Worry
My Image Will Forever
Be Alive In Your Mind.
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