Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

saigon poems

by jakecaller

Seeing Ghosts I walk around the streets Of old Saigon Seeing sensing the undead The ghosts of the war That haunted life So many years ago So many people died For a war That never should have been fought For reasons that are still not clear A great tragedy unfolded In a land half away Around the world The ghosts smile at me And then they disappear Leaving me in the present Life goes on   Old Ghosts Old ghosts wandering the streets of old Saigon Lost spirits of the dead Died during the endless wars Ghostly apparitions around every corner Here was Kilroy and his gang of soldiers Over there were the Viet Cong Waiting to kill them Saigon is filled with memories like that Terrible times were had here in Old Saigon Silently the ghosts parade the city streets As the tourists drink in the bars   Mastering the Saigon Shuffle When I first visited Saigon Learning the Saigon Shuffle Was difficult And now 24 years later It all seems to be coming back There is an art to crossing the street Dodging the motor cyclists, the taxis, the private cars The bikes and other pedestrians and the buses The art consists of letting the big guys go first Then walk between the motorcycles and cyclists Trusting that they will get out of your way And they being masters of the Saigon shuffle Always find a way In my two visits I was struck By how it all flows together Without a central authority And with almost no planning Lights or cops Somehow it just is And somehow it works And it is still a mystery to me 24 years after first Encountering the Saigon shuffle   Coffee Lady Every morning I have gone out for Vietnamese coffee At a sidewalk café Down the ally from our AIRBNB The owner is a pleasant middle age woman Who for some reason likes us She smiles at us Greets us in Vietnamese She does not understand English Or Korean And I wonder why Why was there this connection Between us It dawned on me Perhaps in a prior life She knew an American or two And I remind her of someone Or perhaps she is found Of Korean K drama And Angela reminds her Of her favorite K Drama star Or perhaps it is both Or another reason entirely But I moved today And will miss her Might go back for a final cup Of coffee To say good bye To my Vietnamese coffee lady   Mostly Harmless Old Lady in the Alley There is an old Vietnamese lady In the neighborhood Obviously senile But everyone knows her And watches over her To make sure She stays out of traffic And out of trouble She talks to everyone But no one seems to understand What she is babbling on about They smile at her And she smiles back Reminds me of the phrase From the hitchiker’s guide to the galaxy Mostly harmless And she for some reason She likes us And like my Vietnamese Coffee lady I wonder why Why was there this connection Between us It dawned on me Perhaps in a prior life She knew an American or two And I remind her of someone Or perhaps she is found Of Korean K drama And Angela reminds her Of her favorite K Drama star Or perhaps it is both Or another reason entirely But in any event I look forward To seeing her smiling face Every time I walk Down my ally way Avoiding the War Due to Two Birthdays I avoided being drafted Due to a fluke in my birth certificate In 1974 the last draft was held And some people were drafted But no one went to Vietnam The war was ending by then I avoided the draft though To no effort on my own My number came up on the draft list My real birthday was in the zone But then my mother pointed out That my legal birthday was different When I was born at 4 am The night clerk typed up My birth certificate With the wrong date My father pointed that out She said Once I typed it That is it His birthday will be What I typed Get use to it My father gave up And so, 18 years later That saved me From the last draft Never made it to Vietnam Many years latter I visited Vietnam Right after we opened relations Glad I finally got to see The country That so many Americans visited so many decades ago Buddha In Vietnam In Saigon I saw the buddha Buddha images are everywhere Temples are scattered about Here and there and everywhere Buddha lives on In the hearts and minds Of the Vietnamese soul The communists tried To get rid of Buddhism And other religious traditions But they failed And Buddhism has come back Still speaks to the Vietnamese people A different style A different vibe Than Korean Buddhism But still Buddhist thought Prevails in the tropical lands Of the South   Mekong Dreams Traveling along the Mekong Back in time Seeing the river The people Imagining life on the river Imagining the war The past in the Mekong delta And the present tourist boom Yet life goes on With its own laid back rhythm As we traversed the river We were transported back To an earlier time Following the ancient rhythms Of the Mekong Delta   Down and Out in Saigon Southeast Asia, and Mexico has always attracted A certain type of westerner The down and out On a down word spiral Why? Relatively cheap to live Lots of part time gigs Teaching English Or other things Booze, drugs, sex Readily available And cheap Places to stay Dirt cheap And no one needs To sleep out doors Easy to disappear Into the foreigners backpackers ghettos And escape From whatever you are running from The locals are somewhat tolerant The police usually look the other way And there are lots of people In your shoes I was surprised to find That Saigon has become The latest place For the down and outer crowd To gather together In Bangkok one sees them a lot In Cambodia as well In the Philippines In Nepal And south of the border In Mexico as well In India not so much In Japan and Korea Just too damn expensive And too cold to be outdoors Back in the day I used to work The citizen services gig And saw lots of the down and outer set The old song comes to mind No one remembers you When you are down and out And in the States Being down and out Means living on the mean streets As it is very difficult To live with almost no money And the various side hustles Don’t give you much money Unless you are dealing drugs And teaching ESL Is not an option Food is expensive Transportation is expensive Booze and drugs expensive Rent is prohibitive Commercial sex is expensive And no one loves you If you are down and out No one knows your name You are just another homeless bum Invisible to all As you try to make do Much better to be down and out In Southeast Asia Than on the mean streets Of the USA   Ghosts of Chu Chi Crawling down the tunnels Of Chu Chi I could almost imagine The Viet Kong guerillas Hiding deep under the tunnels As the land above is turned Into a temporary dessert With the vegetation burned off By napalm and agent orange The Viet Kong creep out at night Stealing onto the bases Stealing weapons, food, supplies And occasionally killing soldiers In their sleep The US soldiers Stay on base at night Terrified of the mosquitos And of the Viet Kong the ghosts Surround me Telling me their stories And at last I fled Through the emergency escape tunnel Declaring victory Profoundly shaken up By the ghosts of the Chu Chi tunnels   Saigon 2019 Saigon 2019 Vibrant, vivid, exciting A city on the move Becoming a world class city Yet still with a Saigon swagger Wandering the streets Dodging the traffic Admiring the women Enjoying the food Saigon enters my heart And I know that I will be back This city is growing on me Reminds me of Korea back in the 1990’s One hopes that as it develops It will not become a carbon copy Of other big Asian cities Obliterating its past In search of a false modern image I hope it can retain What makes Saigon Saigon And not become another Gangnam Hope it does it with Saigon style And the people will evolve The country will emerge And become what it should be The Paris of the East This is my vision Saigon 2019   Saigon 1995 Saigon 1995 In 1995 I was one of the first tourists Allowed in to Vietnam To freely wander about Tourism was at its infancy And Saigon was chaotic Wild and crazy Traffic was insane There were few tourism sites Few hotels Few guest houses And not too many restaurants The food was good We saw the war memorial The re-unification palace And the big market But we felt we were being monitored Beggars were everywhere There were scams everywhere And it was not that pleasant an experience But Saigon grew up Became a much more tourist-friendly place And these problems we encountered A thing of the place Saigon is so much better So much more developed That it has captured our soul And we will be back
Request permission to use this poem
Written by
jakecaller
64 / M / incheon, south Korea
For You?
Written by
jakecaller
64 / M / incheon, south Korea
Published
Apr 3, 2019
Time
17m
Notes

poems inspired by my second trip to Saigon in 24 years

Tags
#vietnam#war#memories#travel#coffee
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell jakecaller how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogSupportFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 [production] by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write