That's right - I'm back, babies. Admit it... all two of you missed me. :3
This semester I'm taking a creative writing class on poetry (which is way more exciting than it sounds... partially because there are no tests. XD).
That said, the weekly poem will probably end up on the ol' blog. Like this poem here! It's a sestina, thirty-nine lines with repeating non-rhyming end words, using both iambic pentameter and iambic tetrameter. Throwing around poetry jargon maketh the poet feel all intelligent and stuff.
And yes, if you couldn't tell, I'm still researching Vietnam and related things. Like post-traumatic stress disorder.
(for extra points, you can play a little game I like to call "Spot the Obscure Yeats Reference"...)
Somewhere in Viet Nam, 1969
The long, hard road we chose to follow
We all know we may never leave;
Each man feels the stifled fear inside,
And we know the memories we’ll hold,
The folks back home will never understand.
No soldier wants to die alone out here.
Some of the boys don’t remember why we’re here,
But there are always orders to follow.
At first, I couldn’t understand
Why any soldier would want to leave.
If we still had to fight for our ranks to hold,
Our wish to run would have to be kept inside—
But kids like us can’t keep it all inside!
The bullet that gets you, you won’t even hear…
And all you’ve got is a gun to hold
As you go where even angels won’t follow,
You force your fears to check out and leave.
That’s one thing I never wanted to understand.
This ever-present terror I’ve learned to stand,
It’s like a cold and deadened weight inside—
The kind of weight that just won’t leave;
The kind you know will always be here.
I’m afraid this weight will always follow
me, and the other boys to which I hold.
We know the Viet Cong cannot hold.
I know this army has to make a stand,
And I’ll march on ‘til there’s no one left to follow.
But I can’t seem to shake the feeling inside
That says I could, and would, just pick up and leave...
This war is the only reason I’m still here.
My tour has halfway finished here.
I don’t know how long my post will hold,
But I will fight ‘til the day I leave.
I only wish you could see and understand
The silent soldier screaming to death inside;
After his mind goes, his body is sure to follow.
Good men followed orders to stay out here...
From the inside, the Viet Cong won’t hold,
But I understand why a guy would want to leave.
Three Elizabeths and the Sensory Life
6 days ago