Wind in the Mekong
                               (1967)
                                    
extremely hot
110 Fahrenheit the norm
sun rays miraging
through humid haze
long down dusty roads
short down muddy roads
through the rice paddies
below sea level flat
season only changed
miraculous 70 degree nights
December January
came other months
monsoons parallel slashing rains
rain all day all night
or sweltering heat
water buffalo and farmers
always working
some Viet Cong too

we became pieces
moving in the delta culture
entwined within
eternal myths and realities
our shadows marching behind
convoys of ox carts
a landscape painter’s delight
ignoring mortar rounds
arcing tracers
ambushes
mesmerized
locked in a timeless history
with Mekong winds
carrying our prayers


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Memory of a Calliope
                                     
I remember a circus
a toddler’s fascination
clowns and a calliope

I remember LBJ’s
no wider war
Goldwater’s all in

too young to vote
legally drink
I went to Nam

years later
took my children
big tent circus

a ring master
high wire acts
clowns and a calliope

road home window down
back seat kids asleep
passing road signs

red white and blue
graphically lettered
VOTE FOR SO AND SO

fresh night air
humming to myself
calliope tunes


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Boston Vetertans Hospital 1974
                                    
so damned sick
so damned sick
no job
no insurance
approached that big white
mansion like hospital
through the doors
mob in the lobby
crutches
wheel chairs
missing limbs
dazed far away stares
down the hallways
vets on the floor
leaning against walls
no one yelling
maybe pain killers distributed
just a real surreal nightmare
I held my upchuck feeling
walked away

still sick today


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Tet 1967
                                 
Tet
time to honor and pray
ancestral spirits
fabrics inherited
displayed with incense
offerings of food and drink
in front of your door
hands clasped in prayer

standing guard outside our billet
sandbagged along French designed street
I watched Mama San across the street
only her door in the neighborhood
wind blowing away fabric
snuffing out her incense
she screamed in traumatic fear
her spirits dishonored

a few doors away a crazed American civilian
drunkenly opened fire with an M-16
ricocheting bullets up and down the street
I requested permission to remove the threat
sergeant said no he can’t be replaced
he’s the mortician on Tan Son Nhut Airbase

he went inside finally
I spent that evening shift
watching listening to
Mama San’s trauma
darkness fell and she gave up
went inside while
the neighborhood continued in peace
and the wind shifted
to me


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Inquisition and Reformation
                                      (For Paul Hellweg)

not unlike
Martin Luther

there we stood
we could do no other

fatalists optimists
devils saints

souls and spirits
theirs or ours

children
hymns in our hearts

soldiers
marching cadence songs

wins and losses
souls seeking a truce

between battles
between calm

there we all stood
humble in benedictions

for all those
no longer standing

all that ever after
now we still standing

can do no other


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



From My Viet Nam Diary —2026

my past appears as a preparation
to understand laws in retrospect
accept mutual interactions across
a grand divide of realities

I hum hymns and songs
personal lullabies
pray help me sleep
good dreams in peace

outside my daytime window
skies grow blue or gray
outside my nighttime window
skies storm or twinkle yellow stars

how did my nursery rhymes
fairy tales and fiction nonfiction
twist their essences into checkmate
jungles of academics

all the moon’s phases
sun’s setting rising
upon my pillow’s sweat
I struggle to deny blunders

of my making and those of others
complexities fade into a mental toy chest
all the varnish faded from the fun
inside of fantasy and mystery

on my nightstand I have a book
War and Peace
and I read just a page or two
before I drift into another night’s dreams

passionate love life death affairs
marvelous journeys experienced
Viet Nam monsoons
being born in America


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  
​


Nam Vet Street Cop Confession

baptized and confirmed
I heard about good and evil
had dreams and plans aplenty
soldiered off to Viet Nam
returned all changed
got some education
fortune and curse intermingled
morphed into a silver star
sheriff’s badge
and I was told
you can piss on the porch
with the puppies
or you can run the streets
with the dogs

I ran with the dogs

in and out the ghettos
sliding through gore
lifting up the helpless
shuffling criminals
in and out the jail
hugging screaming victims
in and out the alleyways
dark cold hot nights
bright cold hot days

I ran with the dogs

we barked and howled
whimpered in dark corners
lived in shadows of mystery
slept with ghosts of what ifs
fortune and curse intermingled
we had some mongrels
best of show
licked our many wounds
had a kind of trickle down
love affair with our junkyards

I ran with the dogs


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  
​


West Berlin Vets 1975

old beyond his age
crippled beyond repair
we worked together
shipping receiving
department store
money earning
time killing
after work
every evening
we walked together
homeward directions
pub crawling
pain killing
two different soldiers
Nam and Stalingrad
comrades nonetheless
sharing confusions
delusions decisions
laughter tears
unlikely plans
no hope for redemption
no need for resurrection

Prosit and Cheers
 

by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  
​
​


Veteran Father — Veteran Son

blowing smoke
laughing crying
diapers to uniforms
your theater began in Africa
drifted to China Burma India
and I began in Viet Nam
drifted to West Berlin
different eras of war
airstreams navigating the world
a shared typhoon of experiences
a love of books
a taste of the grim
found love for family
and I’ll end this poem now
I have to go put a flag
and some flowers
 
on that bed of peaceful love
where you sleep with my mother

 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



About Survivor's Guilt

in my dreams
grief and gratitude
come to mind
a reality new day
I search the joy
family love
an ever old day
grief and gratitude
nurture that then this now
sins and blessings
questions and answers
questions without answers
still standing somehow
memories and dreams
collect my grief and gratitude
allow me more time
to write for my comrades
grief and gratitude
​
 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  


Loss of Hearing a Gain

it started after
massive Nam explosion
 
grew through years
of what did you say
 
repeat again please
I cannot hear you
 
incredible lyrics
important metaphors
 
lost into sounds once
melodic harmonious
 
I feel music now
soul write poetry
 
 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in Kaleidoscope Magazine Winter/Spring 2026. 



Before Viet Nam, During and After
                                        (About dreams and nightmares)
 
my early-on dreams were innocent 
a fun kind of mystery
a serious kind of mystery
daily incidents unfolding into night
 
then came something ominous
confusing uncertain, contradictory 
constructions deconstructions
who I was who I’d become
 
dreams evolved into memories
comings future goings
good evil jigsaw myriads
holy darkness holy light
 
came the nightmares
intermingling
violence tranquility 
more confusions contradictions
 
every dream 
every nightmare
had sources
had awakenings 
 
I tell myself awake
war and peace 
are war and peace 
I tell myself asleep
 

by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  




A Sum of Times
    (A Rear View Mirror on PTSD)
 
often times
in this where with all
 
nature reins its waters 
stokes its fires 
 
horizons always bring 
a morning and night
 
I’ve felt the earth shake
near deaf from all the noise
 
neon comes 
my mind in dreams
 
violence and peace
my mind in dreams
 
love and passion
my mind in dreams
 
tossing turning until
dreams gone by
 
I awaken once more
your love 
 
by my side


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  


Another Nam New Year
 
I didn’t plan this waking
yet no surprise
very first thought
playing hearts
drinking beer
sandbagged bunkers
singing songs
monsoon downpour
dust clouds and aluminum
coffins on a flatbed
shake myself
into Saigon streets
smelling fresh French bread
my bunk mate snipered
three days into his tour
shake myself
707
leaving on a jet plane
home again
all this about three minutes
into another Nam New Year
 
rise and shine


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Ever a Syndrome
 
some realities seem kaleidoscopic
some surrealistic images
times long and short ago
emotions aloft in storms
of gunfire and explosions
emotions aloft in soft winds
romancing singing
writing getting letters
events of dishonor
events of courage
time flew slowly
oh soul slowly
into the this of now
layered memory
scattered memory
never imagining
maybe not even wanting
closure
until a lay me down
dream no more


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2026 
VWP 2026     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



I Gotta Tell Ya
 (Good Morning Adrian Cronauer*)
 
I’ve had my baptisms
fire and water 
somehow survived 
rites and rights and 
wrongs of passage
 
and the sins and blessings 
my arthritis and bypasses
broken bones other ailments
remain while I’m still 
on top of the grass
 
I was athletic once
danced through the night
swayed with concert crowds
mused at neon lights 
all the wayfarers
staggering into walls
sleeping on heat rising grates
sweltering through humid nights
the rich and fabulous
meandering holding hands kissing
ceremonies liturgies parades
 
I try to drift asleep
another night in good memories
vivid colors of spring and autumn
magnificent songs and sounds
of every people every culture
my travels near and far
all the friends and loving times
the love of my life by my side
 
Good Night
Viet Nam
 
*Adrian Cronauer was an Air Force In-Country Radio DJ who started his program every
morning with: “Gooooood MORning Vi-ET NAAAAAM.” His story was made into a movie
starring Robin Williams titled Good Morning Viet Nam.
 
 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



A Veteran's Supplication
 
In this tiresome
old trauma
dream me
healed old provocations
muffled false pleasures
 
bless me
new hope
grand delusions
senile fantasies
quaint recollections 
anything interesting
and bequeath me
vivid colors
songs of grace
cradle of satin
 
my final breath 
pray Nam away 


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  


Muse in a Monsoon
 (Nam 1967)
 
politicians glow in their powers
our nerves and flesh in awe
our girlfriends visit beauticians
lie down at night with their visions
 
yellow red leaves cover the graves
white snow tops the aisles of stone
 
we dream of the seasons
back home
 
sleep turns into dreams
magicians exploding smoke into flowers
musicians playing to dancing crowds
smoke booze and neon nights unending
 
we dream of the seasons
back home
 
right now a horizontal
savage wind slashing rain
floods the river
in our valley
yea we would walk
without fear
however high the water
 
yellow red leaves cover the graves
white snow tops the aisles of stone
 
we dream of the seasons

 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



A Shadow in Time
          (For Specialist David Parks)
 
we were friends in a choir
throughout high school
shot to hell they placed him
in a body bag and the mortician
on Tan Son Nhut airbase
saw a spurt of blood
 
we met again in our hometown Indianapolis
about 1971 his Purple Heart displayed
and I haven’t seen or heard from him since
none of our classmates know his whereabouts 
he is not missing in action
but he’s missing from action
soul I write this for him
my voice in harmony with his
 
every shadow shortens lengthens
rises falls the light from sun or moon
every shadow casts a mystery
creates a promise of memory
every shadow has a beginning 
reckons a return for tomorrow’s light 
to cast a very long memory
 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Give Us This Day
       (For Our Chaplains in Nam)
 
honey and wine
blessings
bread and blood
forgiveness
 
hymns and prayers
soul well intended
muse a tomorrow hope
of heaven only knows
 
out of the tent chapel
down a dirt road
splash a rice paddy
monsoon coming soon
 
tense muscles lungs sucking
water in humid hot air
below sea level
rice paddy scenery
 
with the devil nearby
soul of breath
pray for grace
give us this day
 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Saigan Sampan Child
 
you know I was there
when your father died
The VC death
he the pilot
me the MP
and you know now
I left Saigon
long before your Mama-San
packed you on a treacherous
ocean journey to where you
arrived this Alexandria Virginia
hair salon
where you cut my hair
 
you tell me of your latest
conversations with your Buddha
and long letters to our Jesus
 
you smile when I tell you
of my poetry
commemorating and recalling
places and names
on a wall of memories
 
you and I
we are at peace now
our ark from high waters
disembarked for tomorrows


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in Poets and War, 2021.



Rummaging Through the Lost and Found of Viet Nam
 
how many decades
flow by
interpretations of our dreams
misinterpretations
recurring
intermittent
memories
nightmare evolved
nightmare interrupted
eyes wide awake
heart rate fluctuations
 
next day
weeks months
years later
pray to remember
some kind of reality
connection
dreams of our sleep
dreams in our minds
and pray to be
just one more
good dream come true


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  


An Ocean Between Two Shores
 
The big blue Pacific
sending us Golden Gate goodbye
in between pauses
Hawaii Philippines Okinawa until 
Viet Nam shores hello
 
came the time
in country
off shore
north to south
south to north
rice paddies south
valleys and mountains north
 
tigers snakes spiders
monsoon slashing rains
mud to dust to mud to dust 
heat humidity mosquitoes non stop
war with intermittent calm some places
intermittent calm with war some places
 
a southeast Asian culture and people
fulfilling our eyes
a civil war before our eyes 
an awestruck reality 
fulfilling our days
eyes closed forever for some
eyes wide open for survivors
 
we and some of them were enemies
they and some of us were friends
 
these decades later
luck here and there
skill there and here
most probably 
by the grace of God
 
an ocean was crossed
 
 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Let's Talk Some Mud
 
let’s not talk playing fields
gardens or back door entryways 
mudpack facials
 
let’s talk the mud
monsoons and floods
ankle waist neck deep
mud
 
dried and caked
bodies and debris
when it’s done
mudding 
 
let’s talk the mud
challenging
instincts to survive
skill to recover 
 
joy or sorrow
soul much mud
eventually
 
a seed takes root


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  




Bearing Witness
 
November 11th
the many wars
each year different
mild cold wet sunshine
 
I try heartfelt 
another National Mall visit
most especially to see
the Nam memorial names
 
Some I knew
 
Veterans gather
family friends 
sometimes just alone
I find a conflict
 
Hart’s three soldiers
Maya Lin’s tombstone
dignitaries on folding chairs
an open sky cathedral
 
My comrades 
will not arise
from their graves
this day or any other
 
I stand my usual watch
by the three soldiers
looking over the formation 
as our spirits ascend
 

by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Can't and Won't Let Go
                (For Rodney, Chic, Dave et al)
 
classmates
bunk mates
we were so alive
laughter
games
shared concerns
plans and dreams
seemingly invincible
 
we went to war 
 
shortly thereafter
now long thereafter
seasons and places 
roaming and dwellings
I’d leave
I leave
every gathering
step outside
night of stars
or storms
day of blue skies
or storms 
step aside
from all else
 
remember you
 

​by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



The Hurricane's Eye
 
out of the blue
white puffy clouds
ever higher
the towering
lightning filled
black night
heart shaking
storm
 
no way around
above or beneath
 
into the eye
of I
and we
 
courage calling
courage needed
courage in question
 
through the eye
past perimeters
of storm
 
we flew
into the aftermath
war zone
 
the hurricane’s eye
a singular moment
tranquility remembered


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Chop Chop Chopper Huey
 
back home after Nam
anywhere anytime
family and friends
sometimes I’d ask
do you see a helicopter
no
do you hear one
no
very soon
oh, there it is
 
back home after Nam
choppers chopping
rescue missions
organ transplant transports
tracking cop pursuits
night or day
 
they’d ask
how do you know
oh, there it is
I knew because
I could feel
those whirling blades
beating in my heart
chop chop chopping
chop chop chop
 

by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Three Barbers
             (Nam 1966)

clipped trimmed
ears and neck
warm lather shaved
face scalp massaged
hot towel
forehead and eyes
low cost
twice a week
 
December 1966
three barbers
37 comrades
sneak through wire
scurry drainage ditches
satchel charges
automatic rifle fire
inferno midnight
 
three days
they lasted
to the last man
 
58 years later
I
shave myself

 
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Saigon Orphan Charley
 
of course we called him Charley
like a Victor Charley call sign
he wasn’t just another
twelve-year-old skinny beggar
no he was our eyes and ears
that neighborhood where we
watched guarded and waited
 
we were G.I. Number one
our C-Rations and cigarettes
keeping him happy
he somehow kept fairly clean
hair always neatly trimmed
stomping out cigarettes
barefooted
guess he might have spied
best benefactor
 
we dressed him up one day
PX bought shirt shorts shoes
he was the class of the orphans
and next day he appeared
barefoot shirtless old shorts
why
where are your new clothes
 
I sell them
make good money
he laughed
and ran away


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  






A Very Loud Silence
 
the noise of war
cannot be hushed
cannot be tamed
lingers with survivor’s guilt
unseen like visions
letters or pictures

noise of war
unlike white noise
lingers relentlessly silent
distracting serenity moments
tranquility dreams
interrupts conversation
noise of war
a special soulful melody
rejecting any harmony
never allowing an amen
and a handful of soil
is tossed unheard
down onto a sacred casket
taps and three volleys
salute in silence
flapping flags
​in an inaudible wind


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



An Airshow in Nam '67
 
Mekong Delta stagnant hot
humid blue sky heat waves
the lone A1E Skyraider
propeller driven fighter bomber
loops rolls climbs and dives
 
a soccer field in middle
mighty Tan Son Nhut airbase
boy scouts watch from stands
dream aspire someday to solo fly
and observe an incomplete loop
 
on the dirt road across the field
flames dust smoke explode
clouds of debris and body parts
small entrepreneurial shops
dreams incinerated
 
the scouts cheered and applauded
 
these decades later I ponder
Icarus
too close to the sun
Captain Nguyen
too close to the earth
 
a long stillness
speaks in this poem


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Old Veteran on a Gurney
 
I desire
warm cold water
falling rushing
night day
clear vision
storm or calm
I need
books on shelves
paintings on walls
clean satin sheets
feather pillows
windows with a vista
I dream and dream
see your face
try to remember
your name


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in Poetry Festival, 2025  



No Place to Hide
(Nam 1966-2025)
 
beneath the covers
out in the forest
church pew or gala
on a park bench
feeding pigeons
laughing cheering
stadium excitement
looking over a vista
humming a song
shedding tears
always comes a stare
heavenly spaces
life taken
life saved
always comes a stare
cycle cycle cycle
place of war
coming home
that then
this now
that then
this now



by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  




Out of the Valley

fresh out of the plane 
boots on hot humid ground
assigned a Quonset hut space 
 
on a bunk opposite
the white haired 
twenty two year old
 
hands clasped
far away stare
mumbling 
 
to every season
mumble mumble mumble
a reason
 
Ia Drang Valley
Gary Owen
Ia Drang Ia Drang
 
said he was
on his way home
Ia Drang mumble mumble 
 
into the valley
we flew
mumble babble mumble
 
soul I met
my first casualty
of war

​
by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  
​
​


Whose Hearts—Whose Minds

ours or theirs
yours or mine
 
mask of God
mask of Satan
 
their angels
life and death
 
in loveliness
in loneliness
 
passions
meditations
 
depth and length
night and dawn
 
give us swords
give us olive branches 
 
damnation
forgiveness
 
valleys of death
mountains of love
 
hearts and minds
laying down to sleep
 
our souls to take



by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  
 
 

About Things Unintentional 
 
sun not quite risen
I drive to the chartered boat
envisioning deep angling joy
between the swells
 
drifting beneath wisps of clouds
between gentle white capped waves
fantasizing fighting fish
tasting delectable filets
 
waiting for certain pleasure
my thoughts drift to Viet Nam
a place and time
something specific
 
after hours of catching
conversing and inhaling
salty fresh sea air
we motor back to dock
 
relaxed and cleansed
I turn out the lights
slip beneath my blankets 
recollecting blessings
 
sleep comes slowly
as I drift again
to Viet Nam



by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  
 
 
 
Was It Really Over
 
the soldiers came home
1973
Saigon fell
1975
 
a loud stillness
circled the globe
not a great joy
a numbing
of hearts and minds
a purgatory kind of vision
memorials remembrances
how can that be
how could it have been
how will it be
next time around



by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  

 
 
Boots on the Ground
 
cradles to city streets
rural roads
soils of destiny
skies of fate
 
boots on the ground
 
each one
every body
becoming 
being
 
boots on the ground
 
like anchors finding an ocean’s floor
rockets sending explosive signals
our imaginations ran wild 
beyond the deepest black holes
seeking holy ghosts with open arms
for some body
and everyone
some time
sooner or later
we all became 
 
boots on the ground



by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2025 
VWP 2025     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



My Comrade in Arms
         (for Rodney and Richard—Johnson)
 
from a schooling
comrades were Russian commies
from an education
comrades were soldiers
 
basic training during Nam 
we were bunk mates 
no dna brotherhood
and the band yet to play
 
bonds of 
practicing weaponry
bonds of 
weekend brothel boozing
 
time of danger
brewing on a far horizon
time of reality
mortality at hand
 
flesh and blood
torn and flowing
 
I remember your face
those times from pictures
 
those times of pride
friendship and toasting
roasting in jokes
laughing arm in arm
 
decades later
I finger touch
your name 
on a granite wall


by contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2023 
VWP 2023     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  

​

Polished Granite for Viet Nam 

share and exchange
near the reflecting pool
 
good morning rise
twilight gentle fall
 
sky clouds drift
maybe a spatter of rain
 
names etched in formation
pieces orchestrated into puzzle 
 
light mirrored in darkness
reflection all ours
 
rise up
still standing
 
a good mourning
next beginning


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2023 
VWP 2023     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  



Last One Standing 

what did we learn
how did we share
 
sweat flowing
voices loud
dance floor shaking
 
political
applause and protest
history in rear view mirror
 
late night smoke filled
hops and barley pubs
deep thoughts exchanged
 
poor money times
harmonizing harbor views
guitar case filling with coins
 
battlefields behind
ancestral passings
children out the door
 
crossing our Rubicon
crossing over Jordan
 
what did we learn
how did we share


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2023 
VWP 2023     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  

​

At the Viet Nam Memorial 

In the reality
I was there
To find your way here.
 
In a wish dream
You are there
To find my way here.
 
In history
We are together
Having found our way.
 
Now in this twilight
Of our final embrace
Forgive me all my sins.
 
I will pray for us
From a great fire of grace--
Then sing this benediction.
 
To heaven's great love
Throw all our ashes
In a high fast wind.

by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2023 
VWP 2023     First published numerous anthologies and his books,
​most recently in “Watching Angels Dance by Candlelight” (Loose Moose Publishing, 2019).




Nocturnal Recollections 
                    (for fellow Nam travelers)
 
in panoramic dreams
silhouettes dance and parade
moonlit flare bright
ridge lines or elephant grass
red green tracer lines
laser above a quaking ground
lava flows though our windows
familiar ghosts bring salt
pour into our wounds
taunting us to laughter
awaken one more time
lathered in sweat


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2022 
VWP 2022     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  

​

Talking to Comrades 

what happened
was what happened
 
what could not be
could not be
 
our plans were then
not this now reality
 
I cannot etch 
your name from this wall
 
you were etched back then
this now deep memory


by Contributing Poet  Richard Eric Johnson   Copyright © 2022 
VWP 2022     First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com  

Bio:  Richard Eric Johnson  lives and writes poetry in Arlington, Virginia. He has authored five full-length poetry collections
and his poetry has appeared in numerous online and print journals. Eric is also a Pushcart nominee.
He most recently was honored to be archived at La Salle University’s Connelly Library.
He is a graduate of Indiana University with a B.A. in Germanic Languages and an M.S. in Education.
​After a tour in Viet Nam and West Berlin, he embarked on a career as a public servant and is now very happily retired.