Vietnam War
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The Voices of Vietnam
The voices of Vietnam
The suspicious silence of twilight
The voices of Vietnam
The love of your comrades whispered in the night
Dear visitor,
The wall is about stories
a larger story still under revision
That story is complicated
I stumbled upon the leaves
wires just underneath
meant for me
tied to the mine indeed.
He watched me the whole time
We, The United States.
A poem by Briana Jackson about US involvement in the Vietnam War.
We launch ourselves into things easily avoidable,
Alienating those that disagree.
My America is red;
Cherry lemonade by the side of a pool
In the summer of my childhood
Lips stained with sugary popsicles and fresh watermelon.
It is red like Coca Cola;
The kind from glass bottles
The wind howls andChases my swirling thoughtsRound and Round and RoundThrough my head.
Snow begins to driftDown into the dark, unforgivingWorld. I speed throughThe night in my car.
The legend of my people
Swept under torrents of napalm
Behind stars of lead
Drinking storms of Orange
Subsistence of my blood
Obscured by molding bread
By confabulations of scars
(I am unsure of what to name this poem, so if you could suggest any ideas I would appreciate it! I was suggested the name to be "You're a Lifesaver," but I don't know if I can really consider myself one)
The Dementor you have
And the Dementor I have
Have stopped us from solving
Hungers from deprived ones,
Diseases not worthy to spread,
Revenges too unimportant to do.
One day, you and I should
Darkness outlines the horizon,
possessing its own silence in the world.
This is a place of peace;
the worries of the present pale in comparison to history;
We remember, we forget, we learn…
Some days ago, in Belfast,
holding bananas and figs,
waiting in line for my cup of coffee,
I suddenly froze, then
snapped around.
A butterfly floated delicately around the limp body,
There was no way that man would survive.
Blood dripping thick as maple syrup;
And shiny as a newly washed car.
The war was before our time
the americans so very proud
Vietnam the color of lime.
Heroic soldiers dipped in grime
the Vietnam people overcrowd
what a gruesome crime
