Parchment Wings (1998)
In '68, I crawled out of the jungle
Of Viet-Nam - and landed back in the
World like a prehistoric beetle on its back –
Skip to my Lou –
I walk through this garden –
Brownstone - greystone - headstone –
One moment being slaughtered waist-deep
In a jungle stream--
Skip to my Lou --
The next it's a jigsaw puzzle of parts
After stepping on a landmine –
Brownstone - greystone - headstone –
Skip to my Lou to a screaming
Racket of flesh --
I hear their whispers - I hear their cries –
I see one dead - and Skip to my Lou
I see them all --
This quiet garden cuts deeply –
Brownstone - greystone - headstone –
In 68', I crawled out of the jungle
Of Viet-Nam - and landed back in the
World like a prehistoric beetle on its back –
Skip to my Lou –
by Contributing Poet Robert Morrison Copyright © 2023
VWP 2023 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
Jungle Saints (1998)
Body bags like
Black gumdrops –
Oh mama - oh papa
Mourning across small town America –
Pine box awaiting - to take away -
Fold-out the hurt - roll-out the pain –
Oh mama - oh papa
Mourning across small town America –
Let those tears tumble --
Body bags like
Black gumdrops –
Pine boxes piling-up
Across small town America –
Oh mama - oh papa
The nights are hard and
The days are beginning to follow
Across small town America –
Body bags like
Black gumdrop-
by Contributing Poet Robert Morrison Copyright © 2023
VWP 2023 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
R.I.P. (4.21.2012)
What happened to your face?
Vietnam happened to my face-
Dead is dead and you can't change a thing-
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pale of water--
Time was you could count on something like this-not anymore-
Psychotic mind-splitting explosions up the hill-
Dead is dead and you can't change a thing--
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pale of water
Earth ripping, flesh tearing, bone splitting, blood running
Jack fell down and broke his crown-
Time was you could count on something like this-not anymore
Patches of fire, smoke, and humanity in hell--
And Jill came tumbling after with a pale full of blood
Dead is dead and you can't change a thing-
R.I.P.
by Contributing Poet Robert Morrison Copyright © 2023
VWP 2023 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
In '68, I crawled out of the jungle
Of Viet-Nam - and landed back in the
World like a prehistoric beetle on its back –
Skip to my Lou –
I walk through this garden –
Brownstone - greystone - headstone –
One moment being slaughtered waist-deep
In a jungle stream--
Skip to my Lou --
The next it's a jigsaw puzzle of parts
After stepping on a landmine –
Brownstone - greystone - headstone –
Skip to my Lou to a screaming
Racket of flesh --
I hear their whispers - I hear their cries –
I see one dead - and Skip to my Lou
I see them all --
This quiet garden cuts deeply –
Brownstone - greystone - headstone –
In 68', I crawled out of the jungle
Of Viet-Nam - and landed back in the
World like a prehistoric beetle on its back –
Skip to my Lou –
by Contributing Poet Robert Morrison Copyright © 2023
VWP 2023 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
Jungle Saints (1998)
Body bags like
Black gumdrops –
Oh mama - oh papa
Mourning across small town America –
Pine box awaiting - to take away -
Fold-out the hurt - roll-out the pain –
Oh mama - oh papa
Mourning across small town America –
Let those tears tumble --
Body bags like
Black gumdrops –
Pine boxes piling-up
Across small town America –
Oh mama - oh papa
The nights are hard and
The days are beginning to follow
Across small town America –
Body bags like
Black gumdrop-
by Contributing Poet Robert Morrison Copyright © 2023
VWP 2023 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
R.I.P. (4.21.2012)
What happened to your face?
Vietnam happened to my face-
Dead is dead and you can't change a thing-
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pale of water--
Time was you could count on something like this-not anymore-
Psychotic mind-splitting explosions up the hill-
Dead is dead and you can't change a thing--
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pale of water
Earth ripping, flesh tearing, bone splitting, blood running
Jack fell down and broke his crown-
Time was you could count on something like this-not anymore
Patches of fire, smoke, and humanity in hell--
And Jill came tumbling after with a pale full of blood
Dead is dead and you can't change a thing-
R.I.P.
by Contributing Poet Robert Morrison Copyright © 2023
VWP 2023 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
Bio: Robert Morrison lives in New York City. He is an army Veteran of Vietnam. He served from 1967-1968 in the 608th T.C. helicopter unit, Third Army, stationed in Cameron Bay, Dong BA Thin, Quy Nhon.
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