READ WITH CAUTION WAR CONTENT: Dear readers, war has brutalities so dark that most people believe these things do not occur. Some of our servicemen have been severely scarred physically and mentally, yet mental care is the hardest thing to get. The waiting list for a Vietnam Vet was five years until the scandal took place. This poem has very graphic details of torture and rape of a man that was detained. Our men that are reconnaissance or surveillance perform a duty that is needed but if lost behind enemy lines they might be labeled as a deserter, or worse, but hopefully they are missing in action. Some are detained to be released after enduring abuses that are denied, some are traded for, and sadly many die. Pray for your servicemen. You never know the burden they carry or what they have been through.

Honey, Ash, and Clay

Honey, ash, and clay explain the feelings that have swept me away,

A lucid dream of prediction crept into my mental images that day,

Honey is the taste of life that came to me as a gift before I went away,

Ash is what remains of me after time has ravaged the man made of clay,

Subtraction may be used in numbers but I know it fulfills lifeline retraction,

As clay turns to ash brought by a transgression does honey become fiction,

Long ago honey was but a dream of clay brought by love’s hopeful action,

As blood turns to ash, mud of blood flows no life with darkness the reaction,

Men of war returning as aged children have lost a light only naivety brought,

Youth’s virginity once lost, creates aged men because of the war they fought,

Upon return most are faceless creatures of despair with hope and clarity lost,

The persona seen is memorized traits mirroring what was before war’s cost,

A taste of honey brought prewar attributes upon return to some such as I,

Many heroes made of clay spurned by our nation chose instead to simply die,

One figurine of clay has horrible mental disfigurement unseen by the eye,

Disguised by love’s facade, it has struggled to control the low and the high,

Three weeks hanging from the cliff of “no return” changed this man inside,

He carries shame for crying mama or that he wasn’t one of those that died,

Psychiatrists are heartless characters meant to keep the numbers satisfied,

One man’s wrong decision has brought too many young men a life denied,

There is a scattered mess within my mind that needs execution by design,

If only the debris of war’s mental torture were a peanut surgeons could find,

Scarred by pain of men’s transgression left in the whole of my tortured mind,

Each bowel movement brings the memory as if it was one they could assign,

A bat with a span of two feet contained in a one foot box fighting to be freed,

When caged for so long, once escape comes, it’s in a fury with blinding speed,

After running free, containment is torture for he trained to perform a dark deed,

It’s a disgusting room of anguish hidden within my mind to never recall in need,

Toe tags and dog tags fill the stretches of things I have prayed to be long dead,

As pain brought by remnants of injuries given me return to life in flesh and head,

My preference, if truth be known, is to chain the beast for execution to be dead,

In the darkness of death it should remain with no options of “or” with no instead,

Too often I’ve crawled from the belly of the creature that envelops me from inside,

Too often I have fired bullets wrapped as prayers into its form in hopes it had died,

Too often sins brought from this darkness have regressed my spirit, it’s undenied,

Too often others have reached into my soul’s sewage allowing it to be actified,

In war decisions are made that may seem insane until truly thought through,

Should a man die in forecast of what he fears the creature inside could do,

If the battle is lost by another’s ill will or inability to calm a beast that’s taboo,

The response is critical, be it defeat by captivity or neutralization by drugs, too,

There are many things some men are asked to endure while some have none,

Of endurance of pain I feel I have done my part, although I’m not number one,

From my first recon tour to just before my discharge extreme pain had begun,

The brutality of detainment was so horrible I was fortunate my release was won,

Internal bleeding for twenty-five years has brought episodes of extreme pain,

Often so incredibly bad I left my body and if not for one I wouldn’t remain,

Passing bloody stones of kidneys, liver has blood clots too, yet not of my brain,

Stand in my shoes with no excuse in hand and it will leave you with a dark stain,

The Lord won’t let me go home this way, I fear the gate will remain closed,

In the darkness of night with ignition I fear the darkest side will be exposed,

Like the calming of the hulk it is with peace the creature becomes disposed,

Siamese twins have options at times when one has to die as it is proposed,

Is my mind lost, mired in a bog of darkness? I’m so weak of body, no brawn,

If only the beast within could be gone with incision, ostracized and be gone,

Would nightmares of war that torture the mind and heart finally move along?

As clay is forced to endure without honey more ash replaces what was strong,

I was physically brutalized and raped by the cruelest of ill-intentioned men,

Cried in darkness as I laid in my own feces waiting for the next wrong to begin,

The sensation or lack of feelings that remain when darkness departs my mind,

Leaves an emptiness that makes me feel forever broken and emotionally blind,

I struggle for days to find the clay I am, rather than ash that remains behind,

Honey is not a long forgotten taste once known, oh sweet honey I must find,

Ash, clay, and honey. Has the order of my existence been changed inside,

The ability to rhyme is struggling suddenly, has a part of my mind died,

What has brought this change in my mind, is confusion stopping ———?

If it is so, ash has proven too much for clay to counter on this awful day,

Flesh is made of clay yet we become ash if cremation is our chosen way,

Honey, honey is the sweet nectar of life, taken from plants grown in clay,

Man so needs honey, desperately when honey represents the love word said,

What kind of animal am I, man is said to be animal, let that portion be dead,

Again I have failed, allowing direction to be swayed by meager words said,

Has honey, sweet honey, been lost because “she” is the honey in my head,

I am lost, I am sought, I am in search of me, words written sometimes cure,

The word is strong when written, but when words of the heart it must be sure,

In desperation I crawl from the hole created in search of honey’s sweet touch,

I pray I have not isolated the one person I adore, the honey I love so very much,

If I must remain in an abyss of isolation please place near her photo to see,

I will weep tears so plentiful lakes will rise up where valleys of clay use to be,

The thing I have to hide away will bury me one day unless sweet honey is near,

If just ash and clay remains without honey I will have entered my greatest fear.

The end.

1969 “Patti, Please Read First”

PREFACE: While in the service there were circumstance when we were told to make preparation for “just in case.” Those of you that read “About Us” will know that Patti’s mother later admitted to hiding my letters; when asked if she still had them the answer was maybe. The letters were never found. I wrote my first letter to Patti telling her how much I cared for her and that I was falling in love with her. I wrote of the pleasure in holding her and how much the touch of her hand made my life worthwhile. We had been together by sneaking around when she was fourteen but we never revealed it to anyone, it wasn’t the same. Then, at last, that summer of ’68 when I came home on leave we were allowed to “be.” I was in heaven; I had been in love with her since I first met her at thirteen. But I never told her. Oh, how I wish I had. The long kiss goodbye was difficult as my orders were for PBR Vietnam; however, those orders were short-lived as I was soon reassigned. I wrote and never got a letter in return. I never got an answer from Patti–I was heartbroken. I wrote the second letter a hundred times because I apologized for being so forward, I just didn’t know what to do. Then my assignments became more difficult; thus, the “just in case box” for the one we loved. This poem was in the “box.”

1969 “Patti Please Read First” (Written March 1969)

Looking around the room I think of another lonely day,

I’m surrounded by the things I thought I threw away,

Crumbled letters fill my trash can and seem to stay,

The words of apologize are laced with love I tried to say,

Over and over each day it grinds through my aching head,

I’ve had several events now when I shoulda been dead,

Lost chances playing over and over is something I dread,

There’s ghosts in my mind now that haunt me in my bed,

Scabs of recent injuries I’ve endured will scar over soon,

The scars on my heart may soon be my heart’s doom,

Another sheet awaits words but I’m filled with gloom,

As usual it will be thrown to the corner of the room,

You’ve done what no other has been able to do to me,

I’m a captive to your essence with no chance to be free,

Taken in whole I’d say I’m as miserable as I can ever be,

Sorry for what I said isn’t enough phrase for you to see,

Ink stains the paper where the pen hasn’t moved in awhile,

I look at the enlarged picture I made that’s only your smile,

Beer and corn I’m drinking is no help but brings up my bile,

I was empty before summer when you invaded my lifestyle,

I’m so sorry, self-inflicted heartache is something I know well,

No girl or woman has done this to me, I guess it’s time I fell,

I have this stolen photo that I swear captured your smell,

My heart’s wide open and bleeding, I’m not doing very well,

Six long months I’ve lived this way with my heart undone,

Do I raise my arms in surrender and say my heart is done,

My arms were wide open in hopes of holding only one,

Never have I looked at love in this way with anyone,

I’m so irresponsible in protecting my heart it seems,

So many things I thought would go away including dreams,

My walls papered with copies of your picture is a bit extreme,

I don’t need to be loved but the need won’t leave my self esteem,

I’ve endured the empty mailbox so long they gave me a nickname,

“No mail Pat” was a question but asked so often it became my name,

Tears openly fell when it was said as a joke, but it hurt just the same,

I guess I may be a loser but if I am then what is this horrible game,

If I am a loser how is it I was once in the arms of she I so sought,

I’ve played games and won but this game of hearts hurts me a lot,

One golden memory of her lips on mine is my moment never forgot,

Yes, rich of that gold but was that treasured kiss all my life will allot,

In a long deep kiss I found the man I thought might be inside,

Horses couldn’t pull him out but you did what others had tried,

I never wanted it this way my hopes were you would be my bride,

It’s not what I do, yet after our goodbye kiss I broke down and cried,

I have healing wounds from the awful things they’ve had me do,

Inside my being I have severely open wounds from losing you,

Still I will carry love forever because only you can get me through,

The wounds in my heart can only be nursed back to health by you,

I’m so irresponsible to think you’d fallen for me like I had done,

Soon I will walk out the door to misfortune or to come undone,

If only I could tell you eye to eye you would understand me some,

Holding your hands after kissing I would say you’re the only one,

My mind is surrounded by my heart and it surrounds me too,

There are so many things anymore that make me so blue,

All my belongings in life are covered with words for you,

My box of instructions tell my father what he should do,

There’s a poem inside the box saying give to Patti if I’m dead,

Words of I’m so sorry begin a poem titled “my final dread,”

I wrote it especially for you with the words I wish I had said,

There is a second letter to replace the original one instead,

Guess I didn’t look at it the right way in the words I wrote,

Is it possible to say the right thing in a handwritten note,

If I was a boat returning to harbor I’d barely be afloat,

Soon I’ll leave again with your picture hidden in my coat,

In desperation I leave feeling this way through danger’s door,

If you get the poem and letter from Daddy forgive me, I implore,

Some think life’s love is not eternal but I’ll love you evermore,

In my life’s passing there was no man that could love you more,

Now in spirit I will whisper words of love in the soft wind,

I’ll be near you and your presence will help my psyche mend,

When new love comes your way I’ll bless your hearts to blend,

In my spiritual existence I’ll love and protect you to the end.

The end, by Pat to Patti. Feb-March 1969

I had such difficulty writing the letter that after I finished it I typed the letter to make sure she could read my every word. But for half an hour Patti would have received the letter into her own hands. She checked the mailbox to find it empty and as she entered the house she caught her mother steaming open a letter that was typed. She asked her mother “what are you doing?” Her mother replied that the letter was for someone else and that she wanted to make sure it wasn’t theirs. Patti got on to her for being so nosy and then worried that she may have opened my letters, since I had written my last letter by hand she didn’t realize until later that was “the Letter”.
PK

My Chain

I love the magic of setting suns, morning sunrise and you,

My heart cries out more often than our Texas morning dew,

Surprise isn’t a good word when time is involved somehow,

The age in my eyes made me cry when I saw how I look now,

Show me ‘when’ I beg of you, show me when it’s time to hide,

I fear I’ll become “the old man down the road” who suddenly died,

Desert sands never filled my boots so I’m not worth a thank you,

Let me tell you a story of truth, confusion, and what war can do,

I have a chain of love that runs from first glance to last dance,

You didn’t know me but I knew you so I finally took a chance,

My chain of love is real with steel links that has new link each day,

I’ve clung to that chain that bound me to you some magical way,

Kisses from beautiful lips in sixty eight put a spell upon my chain,

Memories seen through my eye and translated by my heart remain,

Following orders from the draft board sent me away but I had a way,

Not all survived the first round of fire on the riverboat that sad day,

And a sailor cried tears of anguish as he stacked corpses to ship,

It was I that cried with guilt for not firing sooner on my first trip,

Guilt and fear are two ribbons of red my captain said I’d soon wear,

He seldom rode along but he witnessed it all because he was there,

The chain I cling to was covered in red along with anguish and tears,

Without that chain I would not have the courage to face my fears,

I remember that night so very well as I stared into space I saw you,

Bound to you by the magical love links it was you that got me through,

Some days my chain grows two links or more especially during war,

Thank God I’ve never endured the day when my chain had four,

That night of my first day or baptism by war’s burning fire I sadly cried,

Among the bodies that sailor stacked it was found the Captain died,

There are times when hardship shakes us so hard we must step back,

I speak of myself in the third person especially when under attack,

And I cling to my chain with magic links that takes me home to you,

A tender kiss from your sweet lips is often all I need to get through,

Soon I was sent to train elsewhere as they found I had inner strength,

It was unknown to me these things they found in me to go the length,

My chain grew strong each day as I endured no word from home or you,

A nickname came of a question, “No Mail Pat” it made me especially blue,

With excitement and joy I prepared myself for my first leave back home,

I felt as if I had returned to a ghost town, I found no one I had known,

My chain grew weak I must say and I was so weary upon my return,

Returning to base was difficult but my chain I was about to earn,

America was proud three days after my return we landed on the moon,

The things I knew of Russia back then it came not a moment too soon,

Our base was secret but it was obvious our ears were on those men,

Where I was stationed was one of the better dry docks I could’ve been,

I remember praying so hard that something would return me to you,

At that time I was desperately lonely and unsure of what to do,

My chain seemed to be suddenly so heavy it was almost too much,

Carelessness on my part brought internment far from your touch,

Was I exhausted after running for days or was I from the start,

The chain once strong was heavy and I seemed to have lost heart,

Heart is of love or heart is that inner strength I was once told I had,

But during this time my heart felt no strength, it felt horribly sad,

The strength of my chain would be tried for three weeks strong,

I was challenged to the cliffs of despair as I endured each wrong,

I reached hard for my chain as I hung from despair’s last thread,

To release my grasp would be certain doom but I was survival bred,

Within my heart I searched in hopes of my strongest link of chain,

Was it a dying whisper of love or a shameful weakness I cry her name,

Before my eyes she was there and she kissed my battered lip so kind,

Hallucinations brought from torture are a gift for those with a lonely mind,

And I was lonely, I had reached the lowest point I hope I’ll ever know,

From my rectum I found the foil wrapped photo of my angel in stow,

Had I lived another minute of those one thousand four hundred forty,

I’d have added links numbering four that day of my worst misery,

Three links of chain somehow linked to the shackles of rust I wore,

Rusted shackles with caked blood of brotherhood stained me to the core,

As strange as it sounds I take pride in these rust stained ankles of mine,

Tattooed anklets as well as etched memories deep within my confine,

Once I held my chain dear as I knew my chain began with you far away,

My shivering flesh though exposed felt warmth as your glow came my way,

I felt your warm breath near my cheek and it opened a floodgate of tears,

Then I realized my covers were but dried blood and caked feces smears,

Shame crept through my prone self as my self worth escaped me again,

To be sodomized is in itself a stain upon my id but last they left the brush in,

A wire brush for scrapping rust was the ultimate insult pushed inside,

If ever I had dignity, on this night every ounce I ever had must have died,

And I cried in shame and disgust writhing in pain while they looked on,

I must escape these tormented memories that I once thought were gone,

To be lost is the greatest fear I have as I always want to be found,

Because of you I found the strength to walk and not make a sound,

Although my heart pained for you I felt but for my chain you were lost,

If this didn’t kill me then love would surely weaken my heart to frost,

A cold heart turns trained men to become killers that are often sought,

To keep a flicker alive I’d trace your face each day so you weren’t forgot,

Released across the international peace zone one must walk across,

If unable you wait until able but I found my chain had become my cross,

Was I too dependent upon my link to you or would I have made it through,

Yet it felt so good to link to you but where are you, I fear I’ve lost you,

Disgust at my form and filth was heard from the nurses on staff,

“I may vomit,” she screamed aloud, “he’s disgusting” was her last gaff,

My chain to you found its weakest link that day of my return to us,

But somewhere was found the kindest act that made the day a plus,

I screamed aloud for my socks yet they stripped them from my feet,

But days later as bandaged eyes were uncovered an image of you complete,

A frame of gold around the photo I had worn inside came from kindness,

My chain was made of gold that day a nurse found your photo in my sock’s mess,

America’s soil felt so good to touch but poison filled the air with sound,

The chants I heard broke my heart and medics quickly gathered around,

More danger came from rocks thrown and bitterness filled my heart,

America suddenly hated her warriors although we did our part,

My last trip home had avoided big cities returning to my home town,

I thought what I had seen while home was isolated but it’s all around,

Now my mind understood why I was jumped while I was home on leave,

My chain is stretched and heavy perhaps while I heal I can have a reprieve,

Each day for over a year my link to you has been pulled and tested,

When I reported what happened to me not a person was arrested,

A police report made the paper but that’s about all that was done,

I found three of those men and had my day with all but for one,

For two months more I healed and prayed they would send me home,

My honorable discharge came, it was one of the happiest days I’ve known,

Protester’s glare was everywhere and their chants were sadly heard,

Amputees read their awful signs but going “home” was our only word,

Sadness filled my heart to leave the camaraderie warriors know,

None of the men in that hospital had done anything wrong for show,

Most were teenage draftees from farms and small towns abound,

Of the drafted not many big city boys in ratio to farmers were found,

That’s not to slight those men because heroes came from every city,

It seemed the death toll ratio was heavy from the Midwest, such a pity,

Death can’t be fairly dealt out so avoidance of war is the very best,

Most don’t look or consider the age of the man when he’s laid to rest,

My chain has some of its tightest links because of the servicemen I knew,

I must mention my father here, he is one of the greatest servicemen too,

I’m home but afraid to search for you because I’m beaten down and weak,

Told I was in an unhealthy relationship with you and we shouldn’t speak,

The psychiatrist sofa is a place all injured soldiers go no matter why there,

They worry about “Dear John’s”, and men that can’t smell tainted air,

No matter how I insisted you were different they didn’t believe it true,

But I had my chain that if followed would take me directly to you,

My family’s hardship came to light upon my non-eventful return,

I hitchhiked home because no one came, it was a lesson to learn,

I sat outside your window in tears wondering where I went wrong,

Thinking no matter who you were with it was where I belong,

I set out to do my best with over a year of longing for you under my belt,

My family needed to be moved and I did so no matter how my heart felt,

I felt your presence in the air, just knowing you were near felt good,

Oh how I wished to see your beauty for a moment if only I could,

Packed away and ready to go with my family loaded in cars numbering three,

Sadness filled my heart as I had returned to witness my family tragedy,

The home I knew was no more and the girl I loved was forever gone,

With one last look I got everyone ready to go, it was time for us to move on,

I swear I did, I swear it’s true, I had hoped upon hope you’d come by,

My hopes came true and a white car topped the hill as sure as angels fly,

My heart skipped beats and I nearly fell making sure I appeared well,

Then before this weary man’s very eyes was the angel of which I fell,

I saw it in your eyes as they first fell upon me for your first look,

No longer was I past teen but I was an aged man that did what it took,

For a moment I saw you pause as you realized my innocence had died,

No matter what happened to me my heart still loved you deep inside,

Should I fall at your feet and beg you to take me into your arms,

Would you hold me for just a minute to be comforted from all that harms,

So many thoughts ran through my mind and I found it hard to speak,

Our words were simultaneous and the same although mine were weak,

You never got my letters, as quickly as that my heart was aflame once more,

When you made me promise to return to you I knew what I had survived for,

Very distinctly you said, “return to me, promise you’ll come back to me,”

You didn’t ask that I return, but to you, for the first time upon return I was happy,

My chain to you regained its strength and although long it led to you,

Six months more were hard for me but I wanted my word to you to be true,

My car was ten years old but mine and the money I saved took me home,

The first night in your arms seemed to link me from one to this night alone,

The many links between became memories of hardship and love of you,

Without those many chain links would my love still grow as much as it grew,

Hardship brought clarity of who I loved without doubt or reason to pause,

My love for you is one hundred percent pure with no excuse or clause,

Our dates and days for three weeks were enough that I should move,

Soon I had moved nearby and with three jobs fell into a loving groove,

I carry that with me still for it is the links from which my chain grew,

That brought me home no matter what, it was something I had to do,

We are bound by chain to love each other beyond death and even more,

My chain is stained with blood and feces, death and life, and hardships of war,

Buried within that chain are awful things I pray you never see that are me,

Though reluctant with orders I still did what had to be done and didn’t flee,

So many years have just flown by that it saddens my heart so,

Without my chain with memories of loving you I’d wonder where’d it go,

But I know, time has flown through me and pulled you along as well,

It’s flown because happiness has a time anomaly as far as I can tell,

As happiness and joy fills the air my chain skips links until near the end,

I’ve seen days with links of four brought from happiness that helped me mend,

My chain is now mostly gold because of the Angel of morning light I hold,

I love you my beautiful angel, you have turned my daily chain into gold.

The end, by Pat for Patti. Thank you Patti for my wonderful life

Without you it would be impossible, thank you for being my wife.

10 Minutes Walking Texas Highway 60, October 10, 1969

It’s a stranger moon than I have ever seen in the Texas sky,

I’m more afraid of what I don’t see than no cars coming by,

It’s following me as I walk this highway I’ve driven so often,

Been to hell and back but thought I’d be riding in a coffin,

I wish I wasn’t going home but I have no other place to go,

Over two years ago it took extreme courage just to show,

This damn sea bag is suppose to weigh eight nine pounds,

I’m so lean now compared to when I carried so many rounds,

The draft and war was terrible but my time is finally through,

My heart is so heavy as I struggle to get my mind off of you,

I’ve journeyed through my mind and my emotions trying to find,

Why I haven’t heard from you is finally taking a toll on my mind,

I have no idea why I’m sobbing so deeply as if I’m a beaten child,

To say I’m as low as a man can get would be words far too mild,

The Navy medic prescribed these pills to ease my mind he said,

I’ve wondered many times if they should make me feel so dead,

I’m night walking so alone, I feel I have no ties to family or friend,

Perhaps a cry alone in the darkness will help my heart to mend,

I’ve studied these stars alone at night as I prayed you would wait,

It seems as if the brutality that brought me home came too late,

I suffered the greatest cruelties man can place upon another,

If I endured it to return home to emptiness I would prefer other,

Although you’re still so young I know your heart once felt love,

If once for me it must have departed to be no longer thinking of,

It seems as if I was born with you in a place no living soul knows,

A place where eternal love is born and a river of love forever flows,

So rare is this anomalous wonder that for a day a choir of angel sings,

Songs open to trumpets blare and soften to harmonizing violin strings,

As I walk and I cry I remember remembering the future of your hand,

So crazy is my heart that to forever hold your hand I crazily planned,

I had, I truly had planned to hold your hand and walk as we grew old,

I had planned, I truly had to pull you close to protect you from the cold,

All the way to Asia and back I watched a star I called our star for so long,

And tonight, the night of my “victorious” journey home I feel I don’t belong,

I’ve walked alone for so long now that I believe my mantra may be “alone”,

I’m no longer a shining star and our star has fallen or has it never shone?

Despair is in the night air and my sobs have slowed to but a childlike cry,

I understand my beautiful angel and perhaps someday you’ll tell me why,

Didn’t it feel right to you when I pulled you tight against my beating chest,

I am alive today because of loving you and because of you I did my best,

Yet as I walk thinking of family rejection, your rejection, and country too,

I wished I could return to you, we must be careful what we wish for its true,

The brutality I endured in the red hands was my ticket to freedom I thought,

And here I walk so alone that I feel I could disappear and easily be forgot,

I have moments of elation as I think “yet I am alone, it is I that had the kiss”,

My heart quickens to beat hard and fast as it did last year in heaven’s bliss,

All I want to be is whatever I have to be to be loved by you until time’s end,

A desperate dream? And today I am but a lonely warrior that will never mend,

I am hanging by a thread little girl, I have never been so afraid in my life,

How can I be so afraid after I endured so much brutality and war’s strife?

Although I walk my vessel is adrift as I search the heavens for a sign of you,

I feel a flickering glow deep inside as if you just thought of me, I hope it’s true.

The end, by Pat. Written October 10, 1969 at 23:45

Sing Me Home I Beg

It’s so wrong that I am here I was never meant to kill,

Firing this heavy weapon made of steel has no appeal,

My mind can’t always see why there’s times not to be best,

Now I wish I hadn’t been so open in my draft board test,

I was too young when I left home and wish I’d never gone,

The pull was too heavy and I left wondering if I was wrong,

A pain too strong with doubt as to how she felt pushed me,

Wandering came to be daily life I guess I was too blind to see,

My deferment had no value when that letter came in the mail,

It’s one of the few letters not a bill that came as far as I can tell,

If I could run back home I would run for days until I’m there,

Heard a song by Tom Jones coming home to his lady fair,

A stark reality of life woke me to realize I may go home that way,

Walking beside my casket trying to help my girl along the way,

I don’t want to go home this way please protect me from harm,

My dreams since seventeen are to walk away with her on my arm,

It came to me just yesterday that my time home may be all I had,

To die at twenty one because of war’s draft made me very sad,

I’ve held her picture dear since I left home I’m on picture two,

John Fogerty sings protests loud at the base yet I’m so very blue,

I’ve wondered has anyone listened to the words he sings of them,

It’s a double edged sword to listen to songs written by him,

I love each song and line but they are written for the non-drafted,

If only a song to love your drafted brother had been crafted,

Sing me home I beg and let me drag Main to see her drive by,

Last time I saw her our kiss goodbye made tears fall from my eye,

Sadly goodbye is my final word but if reading my poem made her cry,

Then I should have said “I love you” before I kissed her my final goodbye.

The end, for Patti.

I Heard a Horn (1969)

As a young sailor my heart was carried by the wind each morn,

As angels gather the souls of the men laid to rest I heard a horn,

Though labeled a sailor I was a soldier with a weapon in hand,

As wind blew across the land I heard angels help dead to stand,

Please Mother Nature carry my love on your winds to her today,

Thought I smelled the mowed Texas grass but it soon blew away,

Heard my schoolmate cry although he died a year before I came,

They are hot on my trail but exhaustion has filled my worn frame,

The three I left behind are wearing heavy on my mind and heart,

I’ve their dog tags in my pack but to leave them tearing me apart,

I won’t give up, I won’t, I swear I will carry the tags to send home,

Wonder if the dark angel that wanders the field will leave me alone,

I’ve a girl back home that wants my return at least I think I’m sure,

The cards I’ve been dealt weren’t the cards on the Navy brochure,

I hear a chopper on the other side of this jungle I must live through,

Run hard I keep telling myself and this nightmare won’t be true,

The blood on my hands matches the blood I’ve worn for two days,

I’ve washed my hands but whatever I do the stench of death stays,

Jock itch has overtaken my groin and thighs so bad that I bleed,

Where is my fairy tale of romance and love, how about what I need,

I’ve so often cried this time that my throat aches like a crying child,

Praying for failed soldiers to guide me home cause I’m running wild,

The sound of the chopper is gone and I’m afraid the end is coming near,

If death’s to come calling just know it’s losing the girl back home I fear.

The end, by Pat

The Wind Carries Echoes (1968)

The wind carries the echoes of creation throughout the land,

A detoxification of earth has begun with another war at hand,

I breathe deep to absorb the essence of Mother Earth inside,

How many times I wonder has our Karma Master tearfully cried,

I’ve crawled the green of earth with weapon in hand too often,

Experienced first hand how our world can suddenly soften,

No matter where I’ve been I’ve thought of you through the day,

Wondering how you were and what you were doing along the way,

Heard birds sing songs so beautiful that intense emotion was felt,

Songs so melodic that words formed causing hard hearts to melt,

Again I thought of you, each beautiful moment I experience is of you,

Of you I am, of you my heart beats, for you forever my heart beats true,

The intensity of my hardships have been felt deep for so very long,

Without you I am of the weak, meek and weak through, I don’t belong,

Cry for me I pray, I need but a word, a whisper of air will bring relief,

Oh but for word, any word from home would bring with it new belief,

It seems as if the anchor of an enormous ship has been cast overboard,

Attached at my waist with links of hard steel pulling me from shipboard,

As I sink into the deep abyss I search for light, a light of encouragement,

Sea creatures scurry about yet the sea scurry adds to my bewilderment,

Is this abyss a reality or a realm dimension known of as sleep or escape,

Can escape halt reality, is it possible to escape wars wrath in good shape,

Impossible would be suitable for such question of misguided innocence,

How of you I seek and pray, through you I escape hell’s painful vengeance,

Let my eyes find sleep as your beautiful innocence enters slumberland,

To be sought as no other spirit of sleep’s dimension just to hold your hand,

So simple is my request yet so impossible a task from where I am today,

Such need of heart is never simple for a broken heart is but a minute away.

The end. By Pat

For Patti

A Creature Roars (Written in 1969)

Dark moments are only dark because we don’t allow the light,

When anguish fills my heart I look for the angel shining bright,

Twas you I saw no doubt as ever so gently you calmed my soul,

My heart became interlaced with a thousand needles of control,

Love is like water from a failing dam as it forces its way inside,

Of this it is true for without you how many nights have I cried,

And now I am here in a place so dark I wonder has the sun died,

My existence won’t be lost to you but to others I will be denied,

I’ve worried so intensely of you the pigment has left the black,

Now I understand the meaning of falling through (into) the crack,

Somehow I feel your earthly presence even when under attack,

My heart so desires my will to be strong enough to make it back,

I’ve heard too many teenagers cry for mama as he passed away,

One held a picture to his chest along with a Dear John he got today,

I saw his teardrops start to fall and offered my hand to quietly pray,

A Beast of Darkness roams the jungle tonight, his feast is in the fray,

As the lifeblood drains from the maimed he will raise his ugly head,

When sunshine pushes darkness from the sky the beast has likely fled,

Angel guardians of ‘prayers answered’ whisper peace into my head,

Without those prayers I would be one of the early morning dead,

Birds will land upon the unseen bodies missed by his fellow men,

Keeping vigil until the soldier’s body is found by his countrymen,

It’s a reminder that once we’ve departed we are but empty skin,

I held a dream in my arms one night, I can’t believe this hell I’m in,

A creature roars or has the beast cried because there is no more?

The sun brings a new beginning they say but many ask “what for?”

Those with a negative nature think what next disaster is in store,

And I wonder how long it’s been since the time I knew as before,

I have no innocence of youth hidden safely away for my return,

Innocence and Santa’s remains are buried beneath napalm’s burn,

Napalm burns away more than life and has scarred me internally,

Yesterday I sifted through napalm’s ash in search of remnants of me,

Machine gun fire has awakened me from a quick escape to you,

I held you briefly in my arms and whispered of my love so true,

Tears have once again filled my eyes in a lonely tribute of love,

Know my angel of Texas dreams, you are the only one I dream of.

The end. For Patti 1969

In the Silence of the Moment

In the silence of the moment I find comfort in loving you,

A place in the heavens that in someway pulls me through,

Dimensions of departure must have an unseen bridge way,

Although this moment is so dark I must find light of day,

As suddenly as I was cast into this presence he returned,

The secrets they seek don’t dwell within me to be learned,

I am but a messenger seeking the sights and sounds as told,

Sadly today I am the center of attention as if I contain gold,

I am quickly hung with my hands while tied behind my back,

By my hands that are tied behind my back I’m hung until a crack,

My shoulders painfully dislocate after my strength to resist wanes,

Darkness comes and I am grateful to pass out instead of feel pains,

A tear follows the contours of my face as I face that I may lose her,

To lose her is significant as it would be through my life’s departure,

I seek an exquisite presence as light fades to black within my mind,

A silhouette of my special angel’s profile is the only one I hope to find,

This dimension of existence is new found as I enter unto it to explore,

I replay the memory of our first kiss over and over needing her more,

Suddenly I awaken to the spray of cold water up my nose and face,

My hips and legs pain as weights tied to my ankles dislocate each place,

Pain is a beast unto itself that raises tolerance to such extremes,

At first I’d pass out but as I adjust each day I tolerate more it seems,

My preference is to pass out, it allows me to enter peaceful dreams,

Dreams of her, she of whom I’ve dreamt since meeting her in my teens,

Has escape become my reality and has my existence become unreal,

How could I, a young boy but a man, be suffering through such ordeal,

I am but a boy in my heart seeking the angel I so adore so very far away,

As they strike my body yelling commands I seek darkness of yesterday,

Gently I fade into a world mixed of her and infliction upon my frame,

I’m thrown to the floor as I beg no more but they yell wanting my name,

It’s been given yet they don’t believe so they toss me about as I’m lame,

Each joint dislocated and muscles stretched to nearly leave my frame,

I’m limply thrown upon a bench and sodomized for an hour or more,

Pain has wrapped its filthy self around me as do they while I implore,

Be merciful I beg and I cry to the heavens for help while they explore,

The wire brush pushed into my rectum is to cleanse me some more,

We are trained for this, it’s sad to say, we are trained what not to say,

I’m thrown onto my cell room floor into urine and waste of yesterday,

Without movement the pain becomes bearable as I find escape in sleep,

And she comes to me into a world of mixed reality and kisses me sweet,

She wipes a tear from my eye and whispers words of love into my ear,

Telling me to be strong, that she loves me and that she is always here,

I see her looking back at me as I have imagined each day would be,

She suddenly fades as my jailer kicks the wire brush protruding from me,

As he departs I realize I must pull that sodomy brush from inside,

My arms hardly move but I must try as I grasp and pull I feel I have died,

I pass out quickly into a world not of sleep but simply dead darkness,

I see me on the floor and next to me an angelic form stands in witness,

Morning birds are singing to me as I become aware that I still live,

Bloods all around as I see her picture came free as I bled like a sieve,

I fear they will find her so I move as quickly as I can to hide her away,

Just as I find a place in the wall I am hit by a freezing water spray,

She is my life’s treasure that photograph, it’s my only piece of gold,

I’ve carried it near my heart for over two years it’s been in my hold,

In times of danger I kept it deep inside wrapped in plastic and more,

I so desperately wanted to put it back where it was once before,

Perhaps I shall survive, if I survive it is for one, it would be for her,

All my treasured gold is of her for only she would my life I offer,

Open your arms and pull me in I beg of you my angel of first light,

For over a year I’ve dreamed of you and in dreams held you tight,

I held you tight as you slept on my shoulder the night through,

Another dream has passed of a long day when saved by you,

So many years ago this occurred yet a day I appreciate now,

Was it an answer to a prayer to be discharged home somehow,

Happily you are my center of attention but still my only gold,

You’re the messenger of love today, I seek you within my hold,

The secrets of love I sought so long ago have been learned,

It is no secret in reality but that each day our love is returned,

Although the moments seemed so dark through you I found day,

Through dimensions of loving you I found love’s unseen bridge way,

A place in the heavens when darkness comes you pull me through,

In the silence of hard moments in life I’ve found comfort loving you.

The only end, by Pat

Teddy Bears and Broken Hearts (My Paltry Seven Ribbons)

May I pray Lord for the troubles that bear down on my mind,

I’m so broken over the treatment Vietnam Vets seem to find,

Still I remember ribbons torn from my chest by those that hate,

We fought to protect their rights yet there is no way to correlate,

Teddy bears and broken hearts seem to be arm in arm coming home,

So many brought a plush toy as a reminder of the life they had known,

I look at the stars and reflect upon the nights of combat so far away,

Shock therapy and my mind have hidden away memories of that day,

As I left the hospital grounds I had my precious discharge hid away,

Honorable discharges don’t come easy unless you did as they’d say,

Proudly we left the grounds to hecklers and protester’s evil glare,

My paltry seven ribbons seemed bare to the ribbons Marines wear,

Yet they were mine and proudly worn upon my chest for all to see,

Since both of my hands were occupied, a protester tore them from me,

“Stand down,” the order came from the Shore Patrol reading my eyes,

Although weakened from injuries still I can kill as my appearance lies,

Another’s hands upon me with rage brings flashbacks of months past,

Psychiatrists and drugs have diminished the need that revenge be cast,

Until this moment of test have I had to control an urge trained into me,

React immediately to protect myself and kill or weaken the enemy,

As I try to calm my damaged being and control my mental rage to smite,

I think of a long kiss goodbye as I left her behind one beautiful night,

As I try to bend to pick up my ribbons an Army amputee offers a hand,

The feeling of self pity suddenly dies as I realize he isn’t able to stand,

Time has been unkind I must say but without loving her I’d have died,

He handed me my ribbons with a wink but for some reason I just cried,

I stood and sobbed the tears the shrinks had tried to pry from my mind,

And I reached out blindly seeking the first kind soul’s hand I could find,

I’m so weak from my ordeal it took three months so I could walk,

During that time the psychiatric doctors tried hard to get me to talk,

I said what needed to be said to be enough for them to be wrong,

Telling me if she loved me she would have written and we don’t belong,

My heart clung to my love for her and golden silence locked her inside,

Yet I clung to loving her and tried not to listen but I admit I often cried,

And here I stand broken by a protester pulling ribbons from my chest,

Four months ago this wouldn’t have happened when I was at my best,

That moment seemed to last an eternity but it most likely was short,

Those men, those proud men stood tall and offered me their support,

I knew some of the dischargees as we were called that happy day,

But there were those born warriors that would’ve preferred to stay,

Two of our group knew my plight and of the brutality I had endured,

I must say none of us honorably discharged men left there cured,

They comforted me and for some reason protected this weakened man,

We soldiers, sailors, and warriors band together in support when we can,

We are your Vietnam Vets and we shall endure this treatment to the end,

It has been fifty years of mistreatment preventing us the chance to mend,

As I boarded the bus protester’s rage brought spit along with stone,

Except for those that love we men, in America Vietnam Vets are alone,

I made a vow to myself that day to lock away my experiences inside,

It was difficult to keep it hid away deep inside, it cannot be denied,

I married that girl because the doctors were wrong and I was right,

But sometimes the war reared its head as nightmares in the night,

But six years ago the silence came to an end as PTSD took command,

I recalled everything I witnessed as well as each that died of my hand,

Once more I clung to loving her and it was she that carried me through,

Crying, I asked forgiveness for sins of war, sweetly she said, “I love you.”

The end. Thank you Patti

My Brother Bob’s Little Gift

My brother Bob brought to me a gift that means so very much,

Little does he know one of my fears of family is to lose touch,

He brought a book to me with Catholic prayers from a war,

To hear his voice and laugh in person meant so much more,

Bob know this please I’ve placed it near my other family treasure,

A photograph of Patti and Daddy’s work ID that I keep secure,

Each time I see the book I’ll remember the one dad gave me,

It disappeared in wars fury but somehow I avoided tragedy,

The gun I fired from a patrol boats nose was the caliber he carried,

It was by chance the same weapon, not something that I wanted,

Yet I am amazed he carried that 50 caliber machine everywhere,

It’s hard to imagine his strength to carry the load he had to bear,

Most don’t survive that task, he simply credits prayer from a book,

Many weren’t able to carry the machine, think of the fortitude it took,

The weight of the gun plus ammunition says a lot about his strength,

To accomplish a most needed goal my father would go to any length,

I thought of him often as bullets echoed and spray came flying by,

Praying to gain his strength and determination to fight, not to die,

Twice my father presented a prayer book to me much to my surprise,

It wasn’t that I thought he didn’t believe but he was secretly folk wise,

An error of youth because I didn’t pay attention to his daily deeds,

He silently endured through illness for love of the children he feeds,

Each Sunday he went to Mass and quietly entered the confessional,

I wondered what sin is committed by this man that gave me a missal,

The small pocket missal meant more to me than anyone can know,

I’d carry it everywhere because it was given me by daddy to show,

That he loved me and was truly worried about where I had to go,

I kept it with me always along with a photo of the girl I loved so,

War is hell, a place where the youngest of men lose youth or life,

Unless you have been there it is impossible to understand the strife,

My second time to that horrible place found me doing awful things,

I became so filled with the guilt that doing those awful things brings,

After a completed mission of which I was the only man to return,

I fled as hard as I could for miles until my lungs began to burn,

Extraction wouldn’t come unless I made the rendezvous on time,

I heard the Huey’s roar as it was lifting to leave another man behind,

But for the keen eye of the pilot and prayers I screamed out load,

I would be lost forever and be another fatality on wars bloody road,

As they pulled me up I felt my book fall, desperately I tried to jump out,

Touching down would jeopardize all, that’s not what the book is about,

I actually cried because of what that tiny book had meant to me,

It didn’t matter in war, men often cried out loud for everyone to see,

So many things ran through my mind as I finally realized it all,

I’d survived what I was not trained for and through prayer I didn’t fall,

I’ve got many secrets I will never reveal regarding things I’ve done,

Memories I’ve tried to forget but that day of desperation is not one,

Men hold many things dear in war from letters to photos and more,

A soldier died holding his teddy bear asking what we’re fighting for,

Those memories returned to me but I want all to know its okay,

I like thinking of my pocket prayer book although I lost it that day,

Miracles of war occur at times when you don’t expect a thing,

People need to be aware of miracles and what they can bring,

I have a trunk that had remained locked for twenty years or more,

Daddy gave it to me before I left home to soon go off to war,

Twenty years ago I opened my trunk to find my prayer book there,

I have no doubt my daddy’s spirit put it there with love and care,

At that time I needed blessings to bring back what illness took,

Was it a miracle I could work again, brought by Daddy’s little book?

Gratefully I gave thanks for the miracle that prayer and love brought,

But from that trunk it disappeared or was it placed where I forgot,

So Bobby I hope you now understand why the words didn’t come,

To be honest if I said a lot, I would have cried in front of everyone,

The tiniest thoughtful deeds are sometimes the greatest gift given,

A little book of prayer passed on may be another’s ticket to heaven.

The end, by Pat

A Movie of the World War II Boys

I watched a movie of the boys coming back from World War Two,

To be very honest for the men of Vietnam it made me very blue,

Why they called them the boys that fought that war I don’t know,

They were war heroes no doubt as they often fought toe to toe,

For four years the U.S. was militarily involved in the “Great War,”

Just ten short years later our country sadly took on even more,

As our military advisers went to South Asia they thought it right,

In nineteen hundred and sixty five we sent thousands off to fight,

The truth of that war is lost to most Americans that didn’t care,

It mattered deeply to the men of America that had to fight there,

Vietnam with American troops involved stretched on for ten years,

That most of us weren’t welcomed home has caused many tears,

The percentage dead is exactly the same as World War II’s deaths,

As long as I live I won’t let Vietnam be the war our country forgets,

I understand American protestors hate of us going to war again,

And why did the hate for servicemen and disrespecting us begin?

We were called men by our country and those that hated us so,

We Vietnam “men” were 22 and WW II was 26 if you care to know,

Perhaps had we been boys we would have been welcomed home,

Grown men should stand on their own needing no one to stand alone,

I walked home alone because even my family didn’t care to come,

In my home town many knew I was in Nam yet I was welcomed by one,

An angel of mercy and love that had one thought that I was home,

So many died from my hometown most in my neighborhood alone,

If only we had a welcome home even belated is better than none,

Had we men or non boys of youth had support we could have won,

I’ve cried over spilt milk for my fellowmen too often, even me some,

So many should be thankful for what we damaged men have done,

Many of us have gone home now to a welcome home in heaven,

Gathered to drink beer plus wine and eat bread of heaven’s leaven,

Each man will be greeted at heavens gate by a countryman of spirit,

Along with family that loved us perhaps being loved will become habit,

Those precious teens that lost limb, youth, and innocence will be whole,

Youth is a tragic loss but even more-so innocence lost takes a tragic toll,

I’d swear from looking in the hardened vets you’d think they had no soul,

I asked them to pray with me but when “what for?” came I failed to extol,

Instead I chose to pray for them in hopes their humanity returns,

It was hell as it seems our goal was to prove that everything burns,

Napalm and agent orange were our new secret weapons of destruction,

Defoliate plants and cremate every living human all in one application,

I wonder I do, do protestors of past actually believe soldiers want war,

Draftees had a one in three chance of dying for those that kept score,

The saddest fact is that sixty one percent were under age twenty one,

Seeing angels was a common thing when a young soldier’s life was done,

I’d swear if all was quiet you’d hear the sounds of large wings in the night,

We saw the silhouette of an angel lifting off against a blue moon in full flight,

So many held a teddy bear as he laid on the stretcher away the moment,

I saw them smile in happiness as their soul left behind war’s torment,

I was a man when I came home but most should have come home boys,

It’s saddened me so much that most should have been home finding joy,

Nay it wasn’t to be as the sad cruelties of war crucified their innocence,

They paid their youth to America and America paid their youth a pittance,

Don’t think I’m not a Patriot as I fought hard and I am proud that I did,

My disgust is in the youth of my generation that spit upon us then hid,

Now they deny the history and have tried to destroy film with their face,

Perhaps they are the same that deny the Holocaust ever took place,

I’m lost in this rhyme as it rambles so much disgust from my mind,

Worry not America for the writer of such lines will one day be blind,

To scribe no more, to rant no more upon paper but aloud to be heard,

For the sad Vietnam Vet, the sad eyed Vet starving, I have one word.

HERO!

The end.

A Whisper (1969)

From the morning breeze came the rustle of grass coming in union,

The reuniting of molecules separated at the base now in reunion,

I listen attentively to a soft gust of moist air to hear a hidden word,

For separation I close my eyes that I may leave false hope to be heard,

I feel the rise of my cheek bones as a small smile comes to my face,

To hear you from far away Texas in a whispered word to this place,

May be an exclusion from sanity yet I take my chances to hear you,

Isn’t there a moment in time when you’ve said my name to the blue,

Surely but for a second in the least, you’ve remembered a moment,

And whispered my name into the Texas wind to reach this torment,

I close my eyes to change this situation of decline ever so slightly,

Needing but a clue I imagine a letter in my pocket from you to me,

I’ve opened the letter a hundred times or more to read reassurance,

As I open the flap the wind whispers my name with each occurrence,

To hear your words clearly a slight breeze in darkness must come by,

Miracles of love have a clarity of sparkling diamonds in the night sky,

Is desperation laced in the winds in hopes Texas presents you to me,

Oh how desperately I need but a whisper as war returns me to reality,

And I will continue to pray, how did I come to be so lonely and afraid,

I’ve a pain unknown to me that rips my heart from where it was made,

The letter of the imagined necessity is gone to the reality of time,

I wonder now to myself was there a time when you were truly mine,

Cast a sigh or whisper of love to the air that I may somehow hear,

How can it be that I believe my request is heard as if you are near,

The insanity of loneliness created by time apart in desperate times,

Has played upon my mind yet I cling to you as presented in rhymes,

Perhaps if unheard I will see you reflected by the stars or the moon,

To see your beauty even a vision would come not a moment too soon,

I am low, I am so lonely I fear scars will block all emotion before long,

Today’s morning air is full of a foreign odor telling me I don’t belong,

Death is in the air and I must clear my head to see clearly or surely die,

I am the eyes or ‘mystic’ as they call my skill to see the enemy up high,

Someday I will come home if the mental link is there pray not prone,

Whisper love into the air and send love in the wind to end my alone,

I have felt it you know, I have, pockets of air warm with love of you,

Have you, please have you thought of me in the past month or two,

I return to Texas in a month for leave that I may tell you of my love,

Will you know the killer I’ve become with skills that nightmares are of,

I’ve a IV line for my soul impossible to see but carried in the wind,

A new enemy is upon me as I fear I’ve lost fear, it’s needed to defend,

I’ve a new hunger not known until the past month or so that’s within,

Emptiness so grand it’s void the limitations of time and space I’m in,

In danger’s plight I stood in a pocket of warm air in hopes to feel,

As darkness pushes light to the edge I wonder has love lost appeal,

Orders came to return canceling leave until summer, please be home,

To return mid May I knew school would end me being so very alone,

Deep inside lies an anvil heavily chained of steel to my scarred heart,

I pray to touch your fingertips as a touch will cease my falling apart,

All things precious to me have failed me it seems but the Texas wind,

Whisper true into the warming air of spring with love for me to send,

I’ve heard my name whispered in the breeze far less than I did before,

My mind is a wasteland of images I must discard, images I so abhor,

Have you taken your love away from the man that loves you so?

The end must come when I’m in a place that isn’t the fray I know,

One last time breathe deep into the panhandle air to make it of you,

Release a whisper into the Texas breeze filled with a memory or two,

I’m not insane or perhaps insanity masks the reality of my state,

Van Gogh was in a dimension of escape that perhaps I can relate,

Upon my return I must find you or the anvil shall escape to the sea,

No longer am I ‘strapping’ there is a hundred years of death in me,

I lift myself up exploring your photo with my fingertips in flow,

Capturing your essence requires touch upon the face I love so,

I swear I feel your precious flesh and hear your throat giggle,

I’m a nicer man than me of past but I still love your breast’s jiggle,

A million miles away from you in times continuum is a space for you,

The energy of love never dies surviving everything it goes through,

I will frolic in the vastness of emotions from all those that loved you,

In the vastness of space is a vast space of my intense love in blue,

My heart’s in position to be broken it’s true as my outlook is blue,

I’m sorry of my disposition it doesn’t fit being in love with only you,

Whisper into the wind my name or am I no longer held in such esteem,

I’ve cried the tears of endearment to become loneliness of extreme,

Voluminous tears have flowed as I’ve slept in absence of sensation,

In a dream came hope of sunshine but soon I felt love minus elation,

Love can exist as a whisper kept secretly wrapped away for one,

Fear has just enveloped my frame with a sensation I’ve come undone,

Tears are in flow to such extreme dehydration is a possible threat,

For you sweet angel I rejoice in happiness that our eyes first met,

I’ve cried so much the lump in my throat will no doubt forever remain,

By falling in love I allowed myself to be broken in pieces filled of pain,

The trip home in July found you gone now I fear you’re forever gone,

There is nothing to help me with this impossible journey I am on,

It is the ultimate test of my will that will require my best to survive,

During a long ago kiss of goodbye I made a promise to return alive,

I’m beaten, I’m blue of heart and broken blue, dislocated and numb,

Knowing something but never revealing keeps me alive so I’m dumb,

The word is improperly used I know yet it’s how they’ve described me,

I’m now a wandering soul in the night sky high above the earth’s sea,

I am detached it seems as my heart feels hollow yet a flame burns,

Today I retrieved your photo from my lower organ to satisfy yearns,

I’m maimed, naked, without underwear but I’ve overstretched socks,

In filth I reside to the lowest degree with nothing clean but cell locks,

It’s sacred to me, your photo, I licked it clean of the feces and blood,

A tear fell as I was so upset with myself for allowing dirt or even mud,

Halt, I heard a whisper in the night unheard since I left Vietnam’s hell,

Blow slight, please, night breeze, that is how I hear her voice so well,

Without drink I’m void tears as my eyes scrape across dried blood,

I’ve been beaten so often each inch of skin contains brand of the stud,

Oh dear sweet Patti my heart contains no blood to move if I have love,

Whisper into warm Texas air to send love I’m in desperate need of,

Have you given thought of me today for I must whisper in shame,

Morning skies brought rain as my tormentors sodomized my frame,

Pray forgive me as I said your name and they’ve beaten me for more,

Blood has filled the floor and your photo left where you were in store,

I’ve cleaned you my beautiful angel but I fear I can take no more,

No moisture came to clean your photo so I used my urine on the floor,

I licked you clean as best I could but I’m hallucinating even more,

The wind howls your name and is telling me to get off the floor,

If possible I will otherwise the floor isn’t that bad anymore for me,

An angel is approaching to lead me to heaven as I’ve prayed heavily,

The angel is you, how did you find me and are you taking me home?

I’ve always told you the truth, I love you, since we met I’ve known,

From the filth of this cell beauty is found and seems to ignite air,

Please I beg, please say you’re taking me home, please take me there,

Whisper tender in my ear and warm your nose in my ear as you’ve done,

Just one small whisper of love, please tell me again that I’m the one,

I hear your whisper in my ear as blood loss takes my vision away,

Though I see black I feel your tenderness cleanse away the decay,

Maggots have kept clean my wounds although pain won’t go away,

I bleed each time urine escapes and since being raped yesterday,

I know you aren’t here but please continue to be my hallucination,

They said Siberia with my name so I won’t be returning to our nation,

Keep whispering your sweetness into my ear and allow its saturation,

Envelop me complete with love when I was privileged to know elation,

The only word I’ve really understood is “Dog” so I’m left to conclude,

Forgive me but they must fuck their dogs, I don’t mean to be crude,

The elder non rapist has taken to give me vodka and a forehead kiss,

Each morning he brings a drink or two and it seems slightly amiss,

His only words have been “drink” and “guud-high” without the b,

Chances to escape came but I’d have to kill the only one nice to me,

I’m a mess, I know, perhaps it’s good the lack of blood took my vision,

I hear your soft giggle so perhaps you’re real instead of hallucination,

Whispers are coming from the wind now even while you’re here,

Sunrise has surprised my eyes as vision has returned, even clear,

My last memories of the night were your presence inside my cell,

The blast of cold water woke my senses as they hold me since I fell,

“Warm” the rapist yells and threatens with a gun saying “no word,”

I know the drill you fat ass rapist, I’m not stupid, your threat is heard,

No longer am I strong as dislocation took what strength remained,

Perhaps I’m of the fortunate as I saw a one legged man he maimed,

I still have a weapon I’m thinking to him, “it will soon be used on you,”

When things change there’s reasons, orders of release must be through,

You need me alive and well so my turn is to come, give me a moment,

“Rapist!” “Dick lover!” Yeah come running at me I want to vent,

Men still hold me to stand and one is the man supplying drinks to me,

To them the sodomist is disgusting, I can tell the others aren’t happy,

Keep coming at me you ass….I head butted him so hard he was out,

If there is ever a moment of redemption this is what it’s about,

The vodka supplying man is a sly one as he starts speaking in English,

I’m happy I never said anything bad to him as he is granting my wish,

“You’re to be released when you can walk as you must appear well,”

“He will be charged with sodomy which is a bad crime and I will tell,”

They dressed me and the clothing felt good, then I thought of you,

I’d hidden your photo in the wall for safety, I didn’t think it through,

“I like my old cell if okay” then jerked free to make way to that cell,

Without their support I had no muscle strength and I suddenly fell,

Most laughed aloud as I crawled to find your picture in the wall,

Entering the cell I find the floor clean but I’m now covered overall,

I dragged myself through filth to get here and when silence came,

I whispered words of love to you and tenderly whispered your name,

A whisper of love is all I need but someday I will shout it out loud,

I pray you are there to hear but if I return in pine please know I’m proud,

My father no doubt will whisper my name and say the box is for you,

A whisper can carry so much if allowed for the message to come through,

I’ve a poem inside explaining my love with a long lost letter too,

Perhaps your mother is why I never heard anything from you,

I never stopped loving you for a moment no matter how grim or bad,

A whisper in the wind could be me calling your name if that’s not too sad,

If you love another that’s okay but know I would have stolen you away,

Perhaps I’m still whispering your name in the moonlight at the end of day,

If so I will return to you as promised and soon I’ll whisper love to you,

I feel, In truth I feel, you’re still waiting for my service to be through,

Whisper soft into the Texas air my name and exhale your essence to me,

As the wind carries particle of you I feel your ability to find me will be,

These fifteen long months have passed and I’m free to come home to you,

Psychiatric doctors have created doubt in my battered mind I hope not true,

I will whisper nightly into the breeze from but five miles away,

Never will I stop whispering love to you if you don’t come my way,

I believe so much in you and that we were born of each other in love,

We were destined to love the other whispering love to whom we dream of,

A whisper is all that is needed so please whisper words into the air,

You know I will be coming home because I promised to be there,

I am frail of body but my heart beats strong of love for you its true,

I whisper now of my love, I pray my whisper of love came through.

Whisper, I love you, a soft whisper will do. The end.

By Pat for Patti. Written from my heart for you in 1969

Recovered and modified in 2016

A Lonely Tear

You don’t know the anguish a few words can mean if from you,

Sharing dark skies and starlight removes what I’ve been through,

Only you know what makes me feel right when seeing is obscure,

Now there’s a line across everything I see or a blank in sight for sure,

I saw blood drops upon the blanket of pure white snow to contrast,

A candle’s fire contradicted the cold of midnight that came too fast,

Looking for a certain man that had his finger quick upon the trigger,

In a jump long ago my back grounded me as my knee swelled fast,

There’s a dry creek covered in ice hiding my trainee’s mistake,

I look around in fear as I seek my drop sight that’s a natural lake,

Dizziness has taken control of the contrast that controls me now,

I must hide my chute and build a hidden shelter of pain somehow,

Had he been thorough he’d have known it was a dry creek at best,

Unless there is a severe storm or thawing there’s no water to crest,

Creeks are a source for water and fish along with attracting game,

I’ve been here before in search of things that are much the same,

Singing a song of you I wonder where you are and why I’m so blue,

It’s only a day past my last drive in a dream as I search Main for you,

My chute across branches that hung in despair create a pocket of air,

I know you don’t know this but I have a shrine built for you in there,

I’ve driven Main a hundred times without sleep while living in this hell,

Ending it now I’d be where, but in hell for real, as far as I can tell,

But I believe in you and the many times your eyes said I love you Pat,

Patti you’re my life no matter where I am, I pray you’ll remember that,

Pray I’ll come home by choice and not shipped with honor guards near,

Don’t be afraid if you’re lonely as I am lonely too until you are here,

I see eggs of a small bird along with its nest that smashed under me,

Irony breaks my heart as I think of these as scrambled eggs of three,

As a meal the destruction is non eventful in our mind unless we think,

The birds of yellow I’ve seen before as I washed my face in the sink,

A window ledge was home for two pair of yellows so I knew the egg,

For almost a year I watched the pair of pairs so they were easy to peg,

What has happened to us as I look at a broken branch caused by me,

It’s not a lot but damage caused by man without care shouldn’t be,

On a greater scale I see the blood drops of red in contrast to snow,

It’s a beautiful red I think as I start to draw your silhouette real slow,

Red on white, red on white, I wish I had more extra blood left in me,

It’s a song or melody I wrote as I wrote this rhyme for my angel to see,

And I crawl into my igloo I’ve built as falling snow covers your beauty,

I have an opportunity to heal and I must do so to complete my duty,

I’m blessed please know, I get to cuddle with you in an igloo of snow,

For a few days this blizzard will roar and my knee will heal but slow,

And I will dream of you gathered in a ball with me for a few days,

The flow of red has ceased or slowed and I pray that way it stays,

Red on white, a heart that bled, birds that died, food wasted too,

It’s sad and wonderful because I get to spend my time holding you,

My treasured gold within my hold is but a photograph I hold so near,

Although never said your eyes from a photo will say, “I love you Pat”

And into the white snow will fall my lonely tear.

The end, by Pat for Patti

I love you.

Poem for Patti 1968

I have found a way beyond the gaseous state of my mind,

While absent thought or memory emptiness forms a blind,

Unable to penetrate the unseen forces brought of loneliness,

With no thought to guide my form I have become a mess,

Written words with no destination found its way to the floor,

Each word I write sounds so lonely I just can’t write anymore,

One hundred twenty five days of fear that’s brought by war,

Crumpled paper in a corner says I should leave it at the store,

Absence of Texas nights fill my room with more emptiness,

Words to apologize for saying I care seems wrong I confess,

But if I have to, to keep you near, as an old broken friend,

From the confines of my assignment I’ll love you to the end,

I’ve folded paper into shapes all covered with but a word,

Dear is a stop sign in my letters for words that go unheard,

From my heart through my mind and down to my fingertips,

I try desperately to be just a friend then I remember your lips,

Fear is a sensation that accompanies me when I walk alone,

My room is slowly filling with “afraid” as if it’s a light shone,

No man can protect you as I can for I’ll be a fortress of stone,

Love creates devotion yet devotion is love’s best part known,

A fortnight and a near a week has returned me to this place,

The tag of ‘no mail Pat’ brought tears racing down my face,

More painful than a bullet ripping through my flesh to stay,

Memories of your eyes upon me dim with each passing day,

Dark waters pound against the rocks creating ocean spray,

My creation of dark waters explain teardrops within the fray,

Tides made of fallen tears have joined the battering today,

Each wave a creation of my pounding heart withering away,

I see my heart amongst debris I’ve thrown upon my floor,

There’s a letter beyond dear wishing we eloped long before,

Each word was truth I spoke to you when I worked in a store,

If again I see you Patti Gail I will speak to you of evermore,

As darkness fills my room with darkening of what was day,

You’ll invade my mind for near two hours before I find a way,

To type words begging forgiveness for what I meant to say,

Or am I a fallen warrior locked in limbo before I can go away,

No greater pain or punishment could be placed upon my soul,

I am the lowest point achieved by man unless thrust into a hole,

I’ve carried this tissue of your lips imprint until no longer whole,

Oh how my life has changed if begging forgiveness is my goal,

If I could leave this place with purpose to tell you of my heart,

Tears would flow from my eyes while I struggled hard to start,

I would tell you of wasted paper with but a word upon the floor,

I’d say that I’m sorry, but since that day I love you even more.

The end, by Pat to Patti December 8, 1968

Poem From Neverland (MDH MDDS)

Manic depressive hallucinations, Massive drug doses stimulation,

Eternity long a life so short, a fading picture it distorts,

Caring men are in politics? Not really they are hypocrites,

Nice pretty girls yet loose, will trap you with their open noose,

Closed windows open doors, since they’re lose are they whores,

Windows open doors blow closed, then you find it was posed,

A blinding light removes your sight, changing all into night,

Remove the light what remains, desert sand across the plains,

Ever evolving ever changing, every movement rearranging,

Find a place you may light, remove the drugs regain your sight,

You are a rocket full of love, much too large won’t fit the glove,

Uncle’s call brought you pain, a cousin’s march showed disdain,

Take a pill as last resort, non-fading pictures now distort,

Quicksand pulls you down, no helping hands are around,

Scream loud without sound, beaten down to bloody ground,

Hope is seen through your eyes, sifting through uncles lies,

Focus in on the shining point, lifetime promise will anoint,

Hindsight focused looking back, run forward in the pack,

Sugar sweets slow you down, fat is weighed by the pound,

Push and pull, act a fool, you leaped into the human pool,

You can’t swim soon you stink, it doesn’t end like you think,

Stinking smell is perspiration, pool is shallow brings elation,

Wake up and see the light, walk through it all find what is right,

She is hidden in the blinding light, touch her gently in the night,

What erupts isn’t what you see, eruptions bring changes to she,

You decipher lies from the real, pay no attention to the news reel,

Push your soul from deep inside, outward motion won’t be denied,

Sunrise comes with you and more, a future is not found in before.

The end. 1969

Sometime in September to November 1969

Memorial Day Poem (Fear’s Slave) 2016

Is twenty old enough to give secrets of the world to hold,

Should still a boy of twenty one become prematurely old,

When I was twenty two my injuries caused my will to fold,

At age twenty three I married my precious treasure of gold,

When I was twenty four dreams woke me to again live,

A man of twenty five shouldn’t beg protestors to forgive,

When I was sixty two I cried so much I seemed a sieve,

Although I’m sixty eight I beg the sins of then you forgive,

I’ve tried in a way to heal my whole yet I’m still incomplete,

Like a babe in the woods I tried to live but couldn’t defeat,

That beast of long ago is seen in shadows from my feet,

As the sun sets the extension of me lays flat in the street,

Withe* flexibility flows from the dark silhouette I can see,

Most often it has no resemblance of this human being me,

Never erect, it’s forever following like a shadow should be,

Each time I see it I wonder what it’s hiding that I can’t see,

As darkness comes it must depart to places that be unknown,

When I sleep the intentions of the hiding beast are often shown,

Each journey, each mission are mushed into sins that I still own,

Eyes of each defeated foe are layered to stare like painted stone,

A thousand coats of my pain are upon the stone creatures I see,

I once ran from the soil of fray and was flown across the sea,

Tied to a stretcher unable to move as foe’s pain enveloped me,

Forty years later the creatures of aged stone I started to see,

I have the answer to a riddle or question formed in my mind,

How long does it take stone to cross oceans for me to find,

With stone eyes of layered foe are stone creatures really blind,

“Forty years and a day” I’d say of the mystery yet to be defined,

My form my fashion is known to most, they think I’m brave,

It’s never been courage they see but I fear fear will enslave,

Anchored to hold me there it’s that I have fear of the grave,

When you run in defeat you die inside to live as fear’s slave,

At sixty nine the willow will flex in motion to avoid Texas wind,

The unfortunate tragedy is that age removes the ability to bend,

So stand I must and fight “departure’s will” in combat to defend,

I defend for her as I always have and of “departure” it I will send,

Through script on a material of plastics and current I exude,

Release brings a cleansing unseen yet it does help to conclude,

I’m taken by surprise again at the will I have wrapped in fortitude,

I see her radiance and know she is the magic cure of my attitude,

Another Memorial Day brings pain that will resurrect once more,

Along with numerous question such as what were we fighting for,

Memories of extreme that I wish to buried in darkness forevermore,

But I hold dear my memories of strength from the girl I still adore.

The end

*”Withe” flexible branches used to weave baskets

The Dance of Lumbering Pines with Texas Wind

A time long ago my heart was miserably in need of you,

I truly pined in my heart as we Texans are often opt to do,

My heart had been deeded yours so it sought what was gone,

A perplexity of magnitude for a heart longing of the forgone,

As the breeze moves the large pines I too am moved in my mind,

I close my eyes to find Texas in my heart and the girl I left behind,

In Texas it is common to watch wind dance with lumbering pines,

Soft Panhandle breezes whisper your name as hard wind declines,

I’ve heard the whistle of Cowboys passed on as you walked by,

So many sounds orchestrated across the plains under our sky,

Today I recall the days of recall and loneliness so intense I’d cry,

Stricken with fear my first week of combat was hard I won’t deny,

And I struggled, I struggled with fear and finding courage to react,

I struggled to remember everything you as I questioned it an act,

Did you show love or a fascination to have the flirtatious boy at last,

I trembled in fear that you owned my heart and forgot me too fast,

I had orders with leave to return to you before my arduous task,

For what I was trained is nothing to celebrate if you should ask,

Had, you moved on with no trace or imprint of me upon your heart,

At month five as Christmas drew near I was truthfully falling apart,

Typed beginnings of letters unsent were letters of forlorn sadness,

Piled around a trash basket everything here and within me a mess,

Letters of unsent repent is a position I never dreamed to ever be in,

I’m typing letters begging to hear from you and to exist as a friend,

Tears escape my eyes and the pain of heartbreak is throttling breath,

How I feared I had lost you before the words locking us until death,

Unknown to you I had made the vow to love you forever from a kiss,

I felt I stood upon the cliff’s edge but a heartbeat and word from bliss,

I have suffered defeat at our enemies hands as well as total humiliation,

Returned home empty of your love and totally rejected by our nation,

I have endured for you from one end of the earth to another far away,

Each due, man or soldier has known for centuries, I have had to pay,

And in my final chapter I have found more fear and question than before,

Is the equity of my heart in yours of worth or am I truly rust and no more,

What time is left may be but a day unless my will to fight on remains,

Today may be the script of final word if measured by recent new pains,

In absence I have wept in review of my past sins against all I have known,

Truly I love life and mankind, yet I feed of pain, unmeasurable pain I own,

As I stand please watch, as I walk please watch, anguish has come again,

Morning has forgot to bring my new beginning yet for you I will again, begin.

The end, by Pat to Patti

A Whisper Into Space and Time (1967 to 1970)

I remember the many trips I took in the vastness of my mind,

The kisses I placed upon your lips and the love I hoped to find,

As I placed a soft hello into space,

With hopes to light upon your face,

As I tossed and I turned I cried out to you please never leave,

Although in my mind you were my life love and my only reprieve,

Everything that I am I give to you,

When you dream do I come through,

I’ve held you at night as you laid at my side but only in a dream,

When I kissed you goodbye did it feel as I hoped it would seem,

Did you cry with the same pain I felt?

A sad dream is what I’ve been dealt,

And I cry hello into the darkness of time and space with a tear,

Forever to travel space until one day you will hear me so clear,

And I pray it doesn’t come too late,

That you’ve forgotten our last date,

So worn and sore with aches desperately painful plus a lonely heart,

In the jungles of war you were in my heart as you were from the start,

As the only one that I have loved,

My heart is open and never gloved,

How your beautiful face in the night says hello to my heart once again,

Please never leave me, please stay eternally until our life’s can begin,

Everything that I love is second to you,

I have loved you forever written here true,

And now I lay in discomfort covered in snow afraid I could freeze,

Cuddled with you in my vision, I fall asleep in the cold with ease,

I’ve held onto a secret too long,

Loving only you is where I belong,

In a series of dreams I’ve stared backwards in time in search of you,

Will I ever be home, will I ever be warm after all I have been through,

I softly whisper hello so afraid I may sleep,

Cold has overtaken me I can’t feel my feet,

Everything that I love is in you with absence of your love I will die,

A frozen droplet of tear remains on my face as I awaken I still cry,

Hello in the vastness of cold,

In but a year I’ve grown so old,

Just this once I cry let me survive if only that I may dream once more,

As I finish my prayer I whisper aloud, hello I love you, it’s you I live for,

I beg to stand before you ready to weep,

It is of you I survived, your love to keep,

How I pray to survive the cruelties of man and return home to all,

Yet I question survival as I have fought all alone, since came the call,

I cry in the darkness where are they all,

If but a moment the pain could stall,

Abuse has overtaken my mind as sodomy penetrated what I am,

I now understand the greatest sin cast upon women by a man,

Any innocence that remained is gone,

The child of my past has passed on,

In a garden in heaven youth of my soul has been laid to rest,

I cry for the child of me that tried to do as told and did his best,

Now I will never again be whole,

The evil of man penetrated my soul,

On a damp dirty floor with my waste on the floor they did their best,

To empty my soul of love and hope, but my love of you had yet to crest,

In shame I cried for my mother,

Words I wish I could smother,

In a moment of cowardliness I cried like a child wanting Mama there,

For her to kiss my forehead then to hold me as she gave me her care,

In a vision I saw you ever so plain,

I’m so ashamed I cried your name,

Every weakness I have came forward in time and I exposed what’s inside,

I’m not a brave man filled with courage and so ashamed your names I cried,

I bleed until I faltered at death’s door,

I’m so sorry I couldn’t take any more,

Hello, can you hear me Patti, I fear this is my last journey into space,

You will receive a box of my dreams for you if I don’t leave this place,

It will be given my daddy and he will hold you,

As every letter and poem you read through,

I’m no longer a man as I’m damaged beyond repair this time I fear,

In a blink of my eyes I’m in a bed learning to walk and can see clear,

The kindness of a nurse brought you to me,

Recovered your photo that you I’ll see,

In a moment in time all I had been through was a nightmare of past,

Hello, my heart is crying please never leave me, don’t leave so fast,

As you left me my heart filled with fear,

And I whispered goodby with a tear,

With a wave of goodbye everything that I love drove off far away,

Another wave of extreme loneliness to live through until the day,

That you say hello once more to me,

And with my eyes it’s you that I see,

You may never know that each night I told you goodnight in a rhyme,

For so long I’ve whispered my love poems into the vastness of time,

I would cry into the emptiness each night,

And dream of holding you so tight,

The times of extreme are now etched in my face to be seen by everyone,

As I walk towards your smile a hidden tear says the loneliness is done,

Everything that I love is at my side,

I walk from it all with you as my bride.

The end, to Patti, from Pat. November 1967 to November 7, 1970.

Ten Thousand Words of Love

Ten thousand words written that the masses may know how I feel,

Printed upon electronic pages with ones and zeros that seem surreal,

Antiquity has overcome my frame yet my mind must release my heart,

When the darkness of forever overtakes my vessel I leave words to part,

Unspoken words sprinkled upon tomorrow’s paper of plastic to be read,

A fairytale of modern yore of an angel that came to be from inside my head,

No villainous wolf hidden beyond the hill but of truth from a country boy,

Clad with only fear and void the armor of old he too was forced to deploy,

A million voices cried across the land resounding words of youthful revolt,

The men of draft became forgotten victims of gunpowder’s resounding jolt,

And the seeds planted within his heart grew beyond his ability to contain,

While his brother’s of war cried to be seen as the cruel truth of a dark stain,

From the ashes of destruction and a thousand miles from nowhere she came,

A soft vision from the place of his birth brought comfort to a tortured brain,

Appearing in the distance too far from reach yet it was known she was there,

Near a duplicate of the photograph he tenderly held at night stroking her hair,

As he whispered tender words of love from within the silence he’d not said,

Then began the searing of dragons breathe as napalm danced above his head,

Non yielding to the roaring sound as others ran he stayed with her as they fled,

With a tear of goodbye to a vision he left to find mortar had left the others dead,

Through raging storm he survived with the iron will of unworn armor but her,

Villagers fled their homes as flying iron dragons belched fire in a warring offer,

They carried children and freed many more yet reported word said other,

As children fired upon men defense came hard and men soon cried for mother,

She came to him that night and reached to place her hand upon his chest,

Will I ever come home to hold you again he cried as he worried the rest,

Known to not be afraid yet fear raged deep inside that he’d never go home,

Near midnight she would come and each night he spoke to an image unknown,

Times passage found him in many other lands of foreign tongue and word,

Missions of secret surveillance of a red land most likely now sound absurd,

She continued to give support when desperation came to him she’d appear,

From loving her he found comfort and direction to overcome his growing fear,

Gathered in a smoky room the men gathered round for beer and tales of yore,

Revelation of his secret came from one stationed with him over a year or more,

He secretly speaks to an angel when he’s afraid but we know it’s in his head,

Unknown to all they’d never gather with him again but not from anything said,

In the darkness of the room he was whispering to someone outside the window,

And some saw her form in the air as escaping smoke surrounded her to show,

If of his mind the energy of his love placed her there to be seen by more than one,

Worry showed upon her beautiful face as she warned of atrocities to be done,

Will I ever come home he softly asked of her then he said hello, to restart it all,

As her faint form began to fade from their view the men who saw tried to recall,

Those of little faith that believe in nothing saw nothing as she was of the heart,

A tender moment planting seeds of future love that now have a chance to start,

Instead of sleep he wrote comforting words of love if he was laid to rest in loam,

And the war moved from war’s stage to subways, buses, and the roads of home,

Secretly he crossed into the hidden war filled with more fear than he had known,

Clutching her photo tight he knew the seeds of his destiny had been sewn,

Of her and for her he said to himself as memories of protestors hate came too,

What is death’s value for soldiers that are vigilant on foreign soil for likes of you,

A trip home brought questions of patriotism he had never known before,

Deeply injured by protestors venomous contempt for the drafted men to war,

A million words written of hate yet non mentioned the hero’s left behind,

Headlines showed horrible acts of a criminal few to brand all of evil mind,

Memories of searching for her played over in his mind wondering where,

And now he stands on foreign soil remembering who he was back there,

The darkness of death had flavored his thoughts when at last he prayed,

Words of love formed in his mind with need to write of her before love frayed,

The fear he knew was not of death but of her loss before departing the fray,

That night before he left he did the unknown and knelt down to softly pray,

Someway somehow I pray return me to her arms no matter what I have to do,

With but ten steps across the line pursuit began but soon beyond the two,

Was this the beginning of a miracle that would release him of military hold,

Prayers answered may inflict pain not thought of in pursuit of the gold,

And he ran and he ran as if a thousand years of life had run through his veins,

Pushing his will to extremes so great that even his will felt his will strains,

Fear filled his body more than ever before as he realized his time may be near,

Her photograph may be exposed he feared so he wrapped it securely up his rear,

A million words of love sprinkled the debris of fallen structures in waste too long,

He felt the blow behind his head and made a vow to her that he would be strong,

Each word he had written to her flowed through his mind as he tried to endure,

Photographs and poetry rhymes flowed from his heart as his mind felt secure,

Torment and pain interlaced his days in forms dating back to medieval times,

Upon a rack to stretch sinew and dislocate bone he wrote her pretty rhymes,

Some day I will return to you he vowed to kiss upon your nape of tenderness,

My lips will trace your tender lines from shoulder to ear with my lips caress,

She came to him in times so dire his spirit departed his beaten frame to rest,

Using wrapped wood to beat his flesh creating bruises deep below his chest,

As he softly cried at night he whispered his poetry into her ear though unseen,

It became the norm to see him speaking to an angel no one else had seen,

Words written of an angel of beautiful form in places of mystical beauty,

To survive the meanest of men he dreamed of her in spite of their cruelty,

Once upon a darkened night with most light hidden by storm and blackout,

Some say they saw her there that night he pulled the cruelest intention out,

It appeared he held her hand and spoke to her before he screamed in pain,

Without loving her a wire bush pushed into his raped rectum would remain,

And he ran into the wilderness with her to escape the tortures for awhile,

For within his mind anything with her was possible just to see her smile,

Her parted lips from a goodbye kiss remained embedded within his heart,

Without time’s falling sand great memories of lover’s lore could not start,

A million words in rhyme of loving her would be written for all to read,

One day the world will read of his love for her and his never ending need,

Let’s have a round of applause sings a choir of angels in watch from above,

One of our own has captured the heart of this iron willed man so deeply in love,

Each night before midnight she prays for him and wonders if he is alright,

The pull on her heart is heavy as she senses her man has a dimming life-light,

In feces he lays unable to stand as dislocation had taken its due in full,

The photo so lovingly placed deep inside is there floating in his blood pool,

Her heart breaks to see the one she so loves so weak and unable to stand,

Is she a ghost of mental creation or from a conjoined dream of God’s hand,

A gentle uniting of love as her ghostly image lifts his torn lip for a tender kiss,

Her hazel eyes are soft with sorrow as she prays her man will remember this,

In a dream of her heart she stands there in full praying he will soon be awake,

Let him return to me whole she prayed, how much more can my poor man take,

More blood filled the floor than what coursed through his veins this day,

Each beat of his heart was amiss as it struggled to go on that he may stay,

The charge of her force flows from her tender hand as she presses his chest,

Life force shared of her heart brought him from the light beyond earth’s crest,

A million words of spiritual visions and of love are written in attempt to explain,

Printed upon paper and electronic pages the mysteries of visions still remain,

He woke from beyond and looked around the cell to find her picture was free,

As he struggled to move the most beautiful photograph was in front to see,

Fear grew in his heart upon realizing tormentors hands would tear it apart,

Let it be written upon these electronic pages he cleaned her photo to start,

He wanted to cleanse her photograph but he wore underwear made of mud,

He used what he had and licked her photo clean of his feces and his blood,

Tears fell from his eyes as he feared her image may fade or even worse,

What if her photograph was ruined because of what I did or didn’t disperse,

Losing her would break his heart as she was his only treasure of gold,

And the sound across America was of rage as hate of soldiers took hold,

Voices shouting hate against the war’s draft soon focused against the men,

Throwing stones and debris towards men in camouflage preventing a win,

Political unrest creates a scene as 50,000 voices unite against the force,

A movement flowed across the land that threw the soldiers far off course,

To be drafted and then hated by those protesting the draft seemed unreal,

What a contradiction to hate the poor drafted me that had no way to appeal,

Be drafted and shipped to war, become a deserter, or enlist were our choices,

And now we have no support from the United million strong protestor voices,

Three weeks ago he had been home to find the one he had sought was gone,

Add to the misery of her loss the protesting masses seemed so wrong,

The loneliness he knew while performing covert ops returned in full,

Yet as he felt the miseries inflicted upon his frame he still felt her pull,

Because of rectal damage he hid her photo into a small crack in the wall,

The photo could not be placed within his frame because of damage and all,

The kindness of a captor brought water and vodka to kill his anal pain,

A pressure wash shower cleansed the filth from his damaged frame,

His chest felt burned as he thought of the dream he had of angels touch,

From the depth of his heart he felt her there, oh he longed for her so much,

Was it the pull of her he felt from so far away as if to pull him back home,

Within the cell a million words of love had fallen on the floor to be unknown,

Barely hanging on he cried for her as each dislocated joint created pain,

Each movement made created self inflicted pain much to his disdain,

Each whisper he spoke in poetry verse would remain forever in the cell,

So many beautiful lines written for her that he memorized most to later tell,

Without her there in photograph or vision form he knew he couldn’t survive,

When the darkness of death was near her beautiful face is what kept him alive,

And his heart would rhyme in verse so beautiful each line would bring tears,

A teenage angel of love that when he is in danger her beautiful form appears,

His release came in a detainee exchange although this was hardly his game,

The work he did was the dirty portion that made his experience the same,

Sometimes the lowest soldier endures more danger to help clear the way,

For others to plan a secret attack that we may conquer and win the fray,

Thank you cell its time to go, thank you that she came in a vision to me,

Remember my love and the angel of my plight, the angel you couldn’t see,

Although my breath came hard she still took away my breath in a vision,

The pain I endured was well worth it, if to see my angel it was the admission,

I thought I heard her say come home to me Pat I will take your hurt away,

Let me kiss your battered lips with butterfly kisses that will forever stay,

Told he’d have to walk across on knees dislocated but two weeks ago,

Hips as well along with shoulders he would cross the cage very slow,

Told to “Halt and be recognized” brought a great deal of stress to his mind,

Fear of being shot during a stressful exchange brought sensations unkind,

His battered and blackened face didn’t resemble the photo the M.P. held,

Then out stepped John his friend to recognize him and all doubt dispelled,

The smell of clean linens is now forever in his mind as Freedom’s smell,

So soft they felt as Demerol coursed through his veins relieving him a spell,

It had been three weeks since he’d been pain free but now the dangers come,

Dehydration and blood loss caused a chemical imbalance that would kill some,

He felt the pain in his chest as he cried out for her and “bring back my socks,”

“Bring my socks please, where’d they go, bring them back to me you jocks,”

Two muscular Medics helped a lady remove his clothing to be throw aways,

As his screams became quietened by drugs sleep was coming for several days,

From heaven a thousand angels sang as bandage removal saw his angel there,

In a frame of gold her beautiful image was seen with long beautiful flowing hair,

An angel of mercy had found his socks and the worn image of his angel in there,

Although the hardest part of his journey was yet to come he was in America’s air,

A hundred thousand words I’ve written that all may know my angel those days,

I felt I was a million miles from nowhere yet she’d find me in mysterious ways,

Questions we have both asked about those nights and how she’d wake at night,

Turned in the bed as if dropped there on days I’d projected my soul to my delight,

Holding her tight in midnight air as we floated in spiritual bond above her bed,

Is a significant memory held by us as I astral projected from a shock to my head,

To a small Texas Panhandle town to hold the girl that is my angel to this day,

Through time I space I went flying so quickly to see her but I couldn’t stay,

Memories of secret journeys and things I’d done were erased from my brain,

Desperately I clung to the tiniest memories of her not allowing complete drain,

The first two therapies did damage no doubt as I felt my intelligence drop,

No more references to me as being one of the finest or the cream of the crop,

My mind, my beautiful mind was no longer capable of taking flight in the night,

My mind, my poor beautiful mind felt so incredibly alone in the world of fright,

The wood I bit down on took on an electrical copper taste to transition my form,

When once I was gold I had transitioned from gold through silver and steel norm,

It seemed but seconds for the steel to oxidize and start to rust almost through,

When once I was steel nature took all nature has and returns it to dust too,

Pulled through the portals of my mind with each jolt of injustice forced inside,

As if it’s done for me as a cure but I found ways of remembering her as I fried,

The flow of current seemed forever yet I remember each jolt pulsing my cells,

I remember tear drops evaporating and so much heat along with burning smells,

Burned hair and seared flesh is a most unpleasant odor that remains forever,

That fourth time was intended to be the last but my smartass leaves me never,

On my mind, my beautiful mind had known too much to be forever passive,

I made a vow years ago when a bully of great size tried to make me submissive,

As they removed the device and mouthpiece I mouthed the fuck you narrative,

In addition the torment in my head of her returned with each pain that’s relative,

Out of my head in love with her I was lost in a wilderness of her essence of touch,

So desperately alone as I had been convinced by the shrinks I had given too much,

She would never love me as much as my past love of her nor love equally in future,

I can accept that was my response as it must be hard for her since she is unsure,

My mind so insecure in each word spoken as I had been tortured for but a word,

Just the tip of her tongue held tight my mind three months ago so crazily absurd,

She was the one thing worth fighting for that made the hardest day wonderful,

From her came moments in time created for me by God’s hand in lips beautiful,

I left my home when too young and never received a letter from anyone home,

In dreams of love and romance she was at my side as through town we’d roam,

Oh how I long for but a glance as she drives by with her date just that I may see,

The eyes of my angel looking back at me, forgive me for the sins of war’s travesty,

Never I pray, that I journey to the land where lovers minds and hearts dry to waste,

I held the gun of warriors plight and intentions as when fired upon I didn’t hesitate,

I cried so many tears of guilt and lonely desperation as I felt so unloved by all,

Once a happy child and boy the shock replayed every time I took a fateful fall,

Oh for her I would do anything as each parachute pull opened to bring me down,

My every thought of her as I wrote rhymes while drifting through air to hit ground,

Would my lonely heart continue to beat and push my loving her on through,

She use to love me some but now I’m so unsure I don’t know what to do,

Perhaps it’s fear speaking out in hopes the next jolt will stop my love in flow,

Is love worth the pain when out of my head in love with the only girl I truly know,

Yet as the gurney carries cargo of me I struggle to recall her every memory,

At that moment I realized a heartbreak is better than to not know her sensory,

Then the ten thousand words I’d written that the masses may know how I feel,

Were to be printed upon electronic pages with ones and zeros that seem surreal,

Antiquity has now overcome my frame yet my mind must release my heart,

When the darkness of forever overtakes my vessel of love I leave words to part,

Unspoken words lovingly placed upon tomorrow’s paper of plastic to be read,

It is a fairytale of modern lore of an angel that came to be from inside my head,

No villainous wolf hidden beyond the hill but of truth from this country boy,

Clad with only fear and void the armor of old I too was forced to deploy,

A million voices will cry across the land resounding words of my loving revolt,

We men of draft became forgotten victims of gunpowder’s resounding jolt,

And the seeds planted within my heart would grow beyond my ability to contain,

While my brother’s of war cried as we were seen as nothing but a dark stain,

From the ashes of destruction and a thousand miles from nowhere love came,

A soft vision from the place of my birth brought comfort to a tortured brain,

Appearing in the distance too far from reach yet it was known she was there,

Near a duplicate of the photograph I tenderly held at night stroking her long hair,

Each word of despair became a teardrop of despair to be placed in gentle flow,

Without these words of electronic print my beautiful angel would never know,

Of the great pains I endured of the body while my heart struggled to go on,

It was of her and for her I survived for without my angel forever there I’d be gone.

The end, by Pat dedicated to and for PATTI.

1969 Walking These Old Streets (In Search)

My eyes are blinded by sins committed during war one day,

In a warrior’s memories it’s only the worst ones that replay,

The neighborhood has windows that are covered in wood,

I would hold dear the broken parents of each man if I could,

As I crawl slowly beneath the shrubs I see the old folks too,

My heart cries for the days of innocence after World War Two,

The pride of their parents has been diminished by a stone,

Broken windows at protestors hands have left Warriors alone,

I’m shivering in the darkness of the shadows that hides their sins,

Beaten by my neighbors and left in an alley this is how it begins,

My poor heart keeps watching in hopes a girl I know drives by,

We are your children’s best friend yet you yell we should die,

Death is creeping in the neighborhood under false pretense,

Seen as a draft-board letter it carries a bullet of the past tense,

Death stalks broken hearts of elders whose children died in war,

And protestors yell at neighbor’s children shouting “War! No more!”

As I stagger home from my beating that came from an old friend,

Three men and a blanket created equality that is soon to end,

Wearing boots I had given as a gift will make it easy to identify,

Children’s children are raising babies that sit alone under no eye,

Many of my friends have died at the hands of their protesting peers,

Depression with no support brings a carelessness that soon appears,

How has my life changed so much in only two horrible short years,

Signs of venomous hate towards we drafted men burns and sears,

If but a sip of water was given me from those that saw that group,

I am almost certain the other two were in my Boy Scout troop,

I have been walking these old streets hoping she will drive by,

Got a bad feeling that upon my return to the war it’s cry or die,

My heart keeps watching in hopes I will find the one open door,

I guess I should adjust to the fact that she doesn’t care anymore,

It’s not heaven I’m searching for but I seek the girl from before,

If you see her, tell her I’m in love with her and maybe, even more.

The end. July 25, 1969. By Pat