"hanoi" poems
MEMORIAL DAY May 26th, 2014
****************************************************
To all of you that have ever worn "The Uniform",
the uniform of safety and security, the uniform of pride
the uniform of freedom, the uniform of liberty
THE UNIFORM OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
**********
THANK YOU
Thank you to all, in every branch, in every time From:
The American Revolution (most of us have roots to our founders)
The Civil War (North or South)
World War I
World War II
Korea
Vietnam
Cambodia
Laos
Panama
Nicaragua
The Falkland Islands
Somalia
Yugoslavia
Bosnia
Kuwait
Iraq
Afghanistan
Pakistan
The Persian Gulf
**
areas and battlefields such as
(not all locations are listed with no dis-respect)
Lexington/Concord, Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Midway Island, Normandy, D-Day, Berlin, Tripoli, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, The 38th Parallel, The Bay of Tonkin, Me Lei, Hanoi, The Hanoi Hilton, Saigon, The ** Chi Minh Trail, Baghdad, Kabul, Ground Zero Manhattan, Pentagon 9/11, a field near Shanksville PA.
and many many more,
you are all heroes and role models, not for a nation, for the world, not for American Patriots, for all humanity, not only on this Memorial Day, for all days and all days to come.
You are appreciated! because freedom has high costs and you pay the price for all of us.
******************************
Godspeed, safety and peace where ever you are.
Sincerely,
Warner C. Baxter Jr.
American Patriot
Scottsdale, AZ. U.S.A.
God bless America
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
always take your shoes off before you cross a threshold
you've been carrying your dirt around with you
leave it at the door
wear your face mask
wash your neck
ask for no sugar
hold yourself center
this city's crazy, child
be grateful for the sun, and getting to be outside
buildings do not satiate the wild within
when the sun kisses your face, feel loved
don't drink the tap
try to keep your bones intact
keep your eyes open
wear a helmet
this city's crazy, child
speak and laugh as loudly as you want
set the bar high, so that growing up doesn't make you silent
the world should know that you are here
you're so beautiful
wash your dishes
sweep your floors
grant your own wishes
lock the door
this city's crazy, child
try not to breathe in the fumes
don't go to school for something you don't love! ....
or do
who am i to say
but from what i can see,
you have patience for your elders, child
i wish they had patience for you
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
MEMORIAL DAY
June 1, 2015
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To all of you that have ever worn
"THE UNIFORM"
The Uniform of safety and security,
The Uniform of pride and liberty
THE UNIFORM OF FREEDOM
THE UNIFORM OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THANK YOU
Thank you to all, in every branch, in every time From:
1776 - 2015
The American Revolution
The Civil War (North or South)
World War I
World War II
Korea
Vietnam
Cambodia
Laos
Panama
Nicaragua
The Falkland Islands
Somalia
Yugoslavia
Bosnia
Kuwait
Iraq
Afghanistan
Pakistan
The Persian Gulf
~~
War Zones and Battlefields, such as:
Lexington/Concord, Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Midway Island, Normandy, D-Day, Berlin, Tripoli, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, The 38th Parallel, The Bay of Tonkin, Me Lei, Hanoi, The Hanoi Hilton, Saigon, The ** Chi Minh Trail, Baghdad, Kabul, Ground Zero Manhattan, Pentagon 9/11, a field near Shanksville PA.
and many many more,
(not all locations are listed with no dis-respect)
You are all Heroes and Role Models,
not for a Nation, for A Peaceful Planet
not for Americans, for all Humanity,
not only today this Memorial Day,
for all days and all days to come.
You are appreciated! because freedom has high costs
and you pay the price for all of us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Godspeed, safety and peace where ever you are.
Sincerely,
Warner C. Baxter Jr.
American Patriot
Scottsdale, AZ. U.S.A.
GOD BLESS AMERICA
Semper Vigilo
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
They were not interested in the forests.
Or how many Asians died?
Nam Viet was a restaurant
Open from 8am-11pm each day.
And summertime in Hue,
means cheap ***** and handmade suits.
All around the girls in golden tight dresses,
who can hardly walk in their six inch heels.
Sell cheap cigarettes from table to table.
Always with a smile and a look at their *******
On trips to Hanoi and Hoi An,
the code to Vietnam's literary treasure.
They asked thin questions with no light
“What about the Women Andrew”
“What about the nightlife and the girls”
“Do you think they’re ****
"How expensive are they?"
Someone in ** Chi Minh City asked me
"Why do people think like this?"
I guess it is easy, if ugly is all you know
Calling to nothing, and the fall of the future.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 5:02 AM UTC
Veasna Ta Kvak recording
playback
over Chinatown cafe again
while recounting recent events
to journal pages
muddled from frequent
exchanges bag to bag
(Been to Taipei airport, Bali, Vancouver, most
recently)
blind fate
blind fate
shower me with Indian daisies
and photographs of Railway
New Delhi!
Hanoi Old Quarter/
Vietnam monsoon/
evening on balcony/
Darjeeling water boiled
and filtered anti-malaria
golden drink for honeylungs and
spring-soul morningtide
under moonlight canopy
of Avalokiteśvara
the fruitful
Bodhisattva!
English lessons
and future
hourless
comely chimera
in sleep phenomenon
Benares phantasmagoria YELLOW
(near Mata Anandamai Ghat)
speaking to Aghori
prophecy
Kala Bhairava
FIERCE ILLUSORY APOCALYPSE FAMILIAR
WHERE IS YOUR NOOSE?
the Ganges is full of lice and flowers
candlewax melted into holy water
sickness
equal to
harmony & jubilant
eyeclose and mouthcurl.
The future mysteries in
Mexico City poorboy
$2 mystic orb jade green
reflective underneath
dirt now in North American
bottom white four floor house
basement suite coffee table.
Visions indivisible
from the Viridian roundly haze
but surefire in their accuracy
I'm absolute
and universally formed
for the next few cacophonous
decades!
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
See you our server farm that hums
And serves HTTP?
It's spun its disks and done its sums
Ever since Berners-Lee.
See you our mainframe spewing out
The Towers of Hanoi?
It's moved recursive discs about
Since Babbage was a boy.
See you our ZX81
That prints the ABCs?
That very program used to run
With Lovelace at the keys.
Magnetic floppy disks and hard,
And tape with patience torn,
And eighty columns on a card,
And so was England born!
She is not any common thing,
Water or Wood or Air,
But Turing's Isle of Programming,
Where you and I will fare.
Dec 16, 2010
Dec 16, 2010 at 7:23 AM UTC
If I was a king of Asia I would give you all the gold there is
But I'm not even prince of Persia, all I have is love and dreams
Let me show you land of legends, land of honeymoon and rising sun
I am not as rich as Ali Baba, but I promise we'll be having fun
I'll take you to Bali the gem of Java Sea
Then we'll go on to safari a little south of Abu Dhabi
I'll take you to Maldives to swim in coral reefs
We'll enjoy the sweet papaya on the islands of Pattaya
I'll show you lake Baikal, Tibet and Taj Mahal
We'll see Macao, Yokohama, Hanoi, Jeddah, Jaipur, Jakarta
I'll take you to Dubai, Dushanbe and Mumbai
We'll spend some starry nights in yurts near the city of Yakutsk
I’ll take you to Tashkent where melons got their scent
We will taste all sorts of apples in the city of Almaty
I’ll take you to Beirut we'll go nuts on dried fruits
And the coffee with vanilla we can try it in Manilla
I'll take you to Kashgar to shop at old bazaar
Then we'll fly a magic carpet to the markets of Qatar
We'll see ruins of Karakorum the old capital of Moguls
Then we'll go to Kathmandu and then Karachi and Kabul
We'll discover caves with treasures, make three wishes all at once
All at once will turn to a fairy tale, like in one and thousand nights
Let me show you feast of colors, take you cross the dunes in caravans
Even if I don't look like Alladin, I sure know a thing about romance
I'll take you to Taipei to see its lovely bay
We will sip on Coca Cola on the silky sands of Goa
I'll take you to Shanghai where towers touch the sky
And the best of architecture we will see in precious Petra
We'll go to Ashgabat, Bishkek, Busan, Baghdad
We will see Great Wall of China and Cambodian Angkor Wat
We'll see the Everest, mount Fuji, Gobi Desert
And it's certainly my pleasure to take you all around Asia!
Apr 3, 2022
Apr 3, 2022 at 10:07 PM UTC
There are too many people here.
Streets are crowded with vendors
and an indelible smell thickens.
Buildings are painted a faint blue, or pink;
they rise upwards, lofty and erratic.
On the balcony of my hotel their roofs are speckled;
one of every color.
Outlandish art fills sun-glazed shops.
Some are only twenty feet wide. Motorbikes
wiz down the cracked roads with intimidating speed.
I look up to the knotted powerlines strung above
cluttering the backdrop of twine green trees.
In the humidity, there is no fresh air.
I can scarcely breathe. Here is a city
impractically shaped, a different world,
but the tender is coming as I descend further.
In the interior is Birla Orphanage
where laughter spreads.
The children wade gigantic waves
on the shore of Do Son Beach.
Mucky water sticks to the sand on our skin.
A boy, three feet tall, beautiful bright brown eyes
peers into my life. I do not know his language,
the most we can do is share gaping smiles
as this city unfolds its secrets to me.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
..
girls talk with God and God talks with girls
girls in silk stockings, studded leather and pearls
girls between jobs and girls between boys
girls all grown up and girls from hanoi
girls for all seasons and girls for the spring
girls for the winter and girls from beijing
girls coming first and girls coming last
girls from the future and girls from the past
girls on film and girls on waterskis
girls on one leg and girls named louise
girls who pretend and girls who must fake it
girls who steal and girls who just take it
girls in magazines and girls in books
girls in between and girls' fully cooked
girls fast and girls slow
girls high and girls low
girls in ivory towers and girls on the street
girls on their backs and girls on their feet
girls who remember and girls who forget
girls who have found jesus and girls who haven't yet
girls who own and girls who rent
girls on full throttle and girls who are spent
girls running and girls walking
girls biking and girls talking
girls who like girls and girls who like men
girls who prefer to be left alone and girls without friends
girls who write prose and girls who write verse
girls who are extremely,exactingly,not to mention incredibly,over the top verbose and girls terse
girls on vacation and girls on the job
girls who swim laps and girls who....bob
girls who like basquiat and girls who like haring
girls who like warhol and girls who like sharing
girls in wet raincoats and girls in full drag
girls playing drums and girls playing tag
girls who john cale and girls who lou reed
girls who plant bulbs and girls plant seeds
girls who don't and girls who do
girls that are nice and girls that are true
girls from the bottom and girls from the top
girls who keep writing and girls who know when
to stop
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
In 1972,
Nixon shook hands with Mao
and the world turned its back on Taiwan.
In 1972,
Ceylon changed its name to Sri Lanka,
Okinawa returned to Japan,
and Jane Fonda became Hanoi Jane.
In 1972,
twin Olympics were held,
hungry tigers on wooden skis dashing
down the white slopes of Sapporo,
while the streets of Munich ran red
with the blood of slain Israelis.
In 1972,
Elvis was still the king,
Elton wasn’t quite the queen
and Prince was still a quiet teen.
On September 21, 1972,
Philippine president Ferdinand Marcos
placed my grandmother’s homeland under martial law.
I was born that day
while my grandmother wept.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 9:17 PM UTC
Privilege precedes accountability.
Honda made motorcycles and
Fonda made propaganda news reels for the other side.
Americans died.
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
I'd like to eat a mango
As I glide through a Tango
My bubbles would pop
While doin’ Hiphop
I’d soothe my soul
Swingin’ Rock and Roll
No time for slumber
While doing the Rhumba
My blood would pulse
To a Viennese Waltz
Dizzy’s how I’d feel
Skipping a Scots Reel
I’d dance Ballet
With my valet
I’d cut a rug
Doing jitterbug
I’d be happy as
Improvising Jazz
I'd like to swing a Fire Poi
In exotic far away Hanoi
I’d fly to San Francisco
To indulge in Disco
I’d as soon not talk
Sliding through a Moonwalk
I’d wear a yarmulke
While doing the Polka
I’d get the gist
Of doing the Twist
I could unwind
With a Bump and a Grind
I’d take off my wig
For a fast Irish Jig
I'd be a hot Mama
Performing the Cha cha
My heart would sing
To a Highland Fling
I’d step up the tempo
To stamp a Flamenco
I'd feel alive
Just doin’ the Jive
Now the ending’s your choice
For better or woice!
One is glad One is sad
Pick one and it’s done-
I’m off to France It’s the witching hour
For a chance to dance And I’m a wall flower.
Tricia Lambert
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
Young men
take their
hot pics for
a quick fix,
I mix my drink with soda
loada
******* really.
Seal me with cellophane
don't let me be so vain
I am not young
anymore.
I captured it all in
the fall of Saigon
I dreamt of it down
in Hanoi.
This thousand yard stare
looks at me
from
over there
and
everywhere
else that I see.
Shoot me full of ******
fire on me and
I'll go back in
to the storm
that I once called
my
youth.
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
Tracts of land
inhabited by people
A flower, a hero
or revolution.
To define a country is easy.
A pulse of a nation
** Chi Minh.
Defeat of the French,
the Americans.
But what about the prisons?
French prisons
American prisons
Vietnamese prisons.
15 years in Con Dao
6 years in the Hanoi Hilton.
Voices that still echo to this day.
And now the pen,
to free the corridors of our minds.
Diaries, letters
kept close
Inside a cold place.
Now they tell the world
that doors are closed.
And freedom is there.
We move on.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 8:59 AM UTC
'HEY, JOHN BOY, I HEAR THAT YOU'RE GOING TO VIETNAM,'
'THAT'S RIGHT, THEY WANT SOME OIL EXPLORATION, SO HERE I AM,'
' I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU CAN STAND ALL THAT HEAT,'
'IT'S OKAY, I'M USED TO IT - PART OF MY BEAT.'
I REMEMBER SAIGON, SWIRLING FANS OVERHEAD,
WHEN YOU RETURNED FROM WORK, YOU FELT HALF -DEAD,
SOME OF THE GIRLS IN HANOI LOOKED LIKE A BOY,
THAT'S BECAUSE THEY WERE (ONCE) IN DODGY EMPLOY.
A BOMB WENT OFF IN A CAFE - BLEW IT TO BITS,
KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN, HAD TO BE CAREFUL TO KEEP YOUR WITS,
WHEN YOU'RE MAKING LOVE, YOU FORGET DEATH,
MORE CONCERNED THAT YOU MIGHT RUN OUT OF BREATH.
JOHN BOY NEVER CAME BACK, SAD TIME, MAYBE A
DESTINY, KILLED ON A MOTORBIKE LIKE LAWRENCE OF ARABIA.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
Who said I was inside?
Oh! I wish it wasn’t
Put it in the tree
Or on the clothing line
Hang it up to dry with tears
In sweltering Hanoi
If it can’t make it in light
We’ll do it otherwise
Permeate, waxing
Those mosquitoes hover in the moonlight
A void where half a whole
World kissed God
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
Sleepy now
Too many hours
walking the streets
of Hanoi.
I would rather a life of poetry.
Thank bashing about
these humid days
without a breeze.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
Dribble I, rusted spheres of number and
ethnicity. My small Hanoi tower, emergent in
sweaty purlicues, yearn for mushroom dish.
I pocket them and once more rinse to the
other side of my frame to await the inquisitors
in a St. Petersburg ’s sleep.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 12:32 PM UTC
This far divided land
Where the rice grows free
Has always had corrupt men
Stopping their life's dreams
It's in their veins
It's not that easy
To make it flow on out
For a thousand years
The same has been
Even when a million men
Wearing blue denim jeans
Came marching in
To change our ways
It's not what this is all about
While the people we trust
Pop out of man-made holes
And look like they've been
Tunnelling like moles
Where the enemy lines
Have stood for a thousand years
During the day
We're all so polite
But in the night
We all have to go and fight
The un-invited western men
Always seem to lose sight
Their communist fears
Were ingrained in their mothers womb
And will always end in tears
Where the streets smell of Pho
As you pass on by
And if looks could ****
If you dare to say hi
The aromatic love incense
Wafts in the fog filled air
Where the market crowds come
And traders buy and sell
The lonely planet guides
Write of this unusual smell
The local giggles should tell you
That you don't really belong there
So goodbye Hanoi
This time we can't ignore the flack
I'm going home
And I ain't ever coming back
My wife is waiting
To mend me back in one piece
We've had that awful feeling
Since it all became so fierce
I want to head home so bad
Now they've invaded our embassy
When they don't want our help for a truce
And it doesn't bring the change
That the westerners wanted to produce
So just leave it in the hands of ones own chosen destiny.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 5:33 PM UTC
Mij was a storm of laughter and defiance,
A stubborn spirit, ever demanding his way,
Yet when the drinks flowed, oh how he shined,
A madcap maestro in the delirium of night.
Johnny Thunders on the speakers,
Hanoi rocks and Lords of the New Church
Echoing through our wild, endless journeys,
Tunes that stitched our misadventures into memory.
He’d promise me refuge in sunlit Greece,
An open door to his scattered sanctuary,
A place I longed to visit,
But lost my courage amidst the clamor of his drinking.
Now, two years on, silence aches where he once roared,
And in the quiet, I feel the bittersweet pull
Of laughter mixed with grief,
Missing the man who was as difficult as he was dearly loved.
In every clink of glass and every chord played,
I hear Mij’s defiant laugh a reminder
That even in chaos and excess,
There was a spark of beauty, a story worth every flawed moment.
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 5:42 AM UTC
Hop on your motorbike and buy me some smokes,
skinny cigarettes cost 45 cents.
Grungy green, lawless supreme, with delicate golden trim.
Youths full of dreams,
occupy decaying castles,
with marble staircases,
and cobwebs on the ceiling-
I get the feeling-
It will fade with my memory.
This place, that is-
as it is.
It's own special rhythm,
drowned out,
by the capitalist drum.
** Hum Hanoi.
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 4:45 PM UTC
A life so early beset by struggles
Was yours when your family fled from Hanoi
And in South Vietnam sought refuge and freedom—
It’s sad what conflicting ideals can destroy.
The South was only a tentative haven
While you attended French schools through the years.
The North-versus-South conflict exploded;
Your country was hurled into suffering and tears.
But luckily you escaped with your children,
Again seeking refuge, this time in the West:
In Europe, Canada, and then California—
A safe life for your children, your constant quest.
Your flower boat has gently borne you
To the Other Shore—your journey’s end.
You will always be in my heart.
Tạm biệt, lovely Liên; au revoir, my dear friend.
We met in the 80s and as fate would have it
We became friends. I’ll never forget
How we thoughtfully guided our students—
Our work together: the perfect duet.
I could sit and listen forever
As you shared interesting tales from your past.
Your knowledge was thorough, your stories intriguing,
Your manner so charming, your wisdom so vast.
I miss our dinners and social occasions.
In thinking about them I have to smile:
We’d talk for hours over large bowls of phở,
And I’d get a word in just once in a while.
Your flower boat has gently borne you
To the Other Shore—your journey’s end.
You will always be in my heart.
Tạm biệt, lovely Liên; au revoir, my dear friend.
If anyone needed a helping hand,
You would be there, offering support.
Then, not needing to earn recognition,
You’d turn down all praise; you’d sell yourself short.
How I envied your mastery of languages—
English, French, Vietnamese!
Your mellifluous voice—I can still hear it—
Tender, angelic, as soft as a breeze.
Our phone conversations—whenever they happened—
Were always an adventure. Oh, yes, but I swear
That I could never be in a hurry—
I needed at least a whole hour to spare.
Your flower boat has gently borne you
To the Other Shore—your journey’s end.
You will always be in my heart.
Tạm biệt, lovely Liên; au revoir, my dear friend.
Teacher, friend, sister, cousin—
I saw you in so many ways—
Your kindness and generosity inspired me,
Broadened my world, brightened my days.
You lived for your family—who always came first—
And never resentful, you never complained.
Imagine how much you influenced your children
With your giant heart! Just think what they’ve gained!
How much you accomplished in your precious life!
How much you managed to do on your own!
You, with that tiny, delicate frame,
Were one of the mightiest people I’ve known.
Your flower boat has gently borne you
To the Other Shore—your journey’s end.
You will always be in my heart.
Tạm biệt, lovely Liên; au revoir, my dear friend.
- by Bob B
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
groper wins lotto and moves to vietnam for some sushi - lotto corruption 12.09.18
sleeping like a baby
in head not a number
jackpot on tube maybe
for rubbing my cucumber.
6 ***** winning
james froomberg confirms its not rotten
at 62 no barrel skinning
got eye on juicy bottom.
when life is this merry
don't need 5 and the bonus
travelling to work and rubbing cherry
like MPs power and corruption gives onus.
going down to four
dropping is smile
justice and poetry has a flaw
guilty before even trial.
3 numbers is a thrill
going up to 25 is no scam
heading to hanoi for a drill
excellent sushi is reputation of vietnam.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC