Thursday, June 14, 2012

I remember rockets...

I remember rockets…


I remember rockets
there is no red glare
tracer rounds flashing
yellow, white - hot red
into the black night air
the cool spring rains
of March 1968 –
an “old man” of twenty one
among mostly younger kids
fate falling to each his own
arriving on ships
by sea
or by jet via Saigon
most unknowing
the urgent answers
to the important questions
unasked
right or wrong.

We arrive
on our “tour”
so called –
for a year
some stay forever
others leave
free and clear –
many return home
in pieces
broken hearted
deserted by lovers
held dear.
Still others are crushed
by the lies,
the promises not kept
by those
that should be
waging these wars –
our politicians, so inept.

But they are never in country -
as their bullets are words
piercing our hearts through the back.
Their explosive devices are their fake smiles
and the laughter attacks
at bad jokes -
the well staged handshakes
blowing up in our
children’s innocent faces
with wars fought
and the bills adding up
from unpronounceable places.

And all this for what –
all this to promote the greedy few
staying in political office
with the well paid jobs
and the perks to support corporate profits.

So it seems to me – Marine
father, simple citizen that I am -
our wars are fought
in the wrong countries.
We veterans must tweak our sights
- on politics for the real fight.
Aim your well earned words
at those that
hide in the high tech jungles of Wall Street
and Washington -
we must put black under our eyes
again and enter into their dark
tunnels of terminals.
We must find them one my one
hiding behind ivy
league educations
and false reputations,
follow the bloody trail
of our brethren lost in combat
to the money they hoard.

This jungle trail is littered with dead
and scarred Marines
foreclosed homes, unemployed vets –
ghosts of the 100,000 suicides from Vietnam.
Prepare your streets for Iraq and Afghanistan
veterans. They will all speak.

Army, Air Force, Navy –
how many senators sons
or daughters serve
this country – let us count
the few and let them stand
and be recognized.

I remember rockets
landing in Chu Lai –
and I know this –
things must change
in America –
and veterans must be the change
they wish to see in this
new America – this prouder America
this ethical America
this people’s America.

That no man or woman
shall be sent to sudden
sacrifice of death or loss of limb
when not every man and woman must
serve.

When you send my son Mr. President
then you send your daughters – when
you vote for war in Iran, Mr. Senator, Mr.
Representative – then you send your son
or your daughter.

It is only then –
that the decision you make
is weighted equally – and has integrity,
but until then -

I shall turn my metaphoric sights
upon politics – upon politicians.
And one at a time – we shall review your records
with Veterans. I turn my sights
on bankers – on corporations
knowing that as long as your profit reigns supreme
and not our country, not our people
and not our highest ethical conduct – then
we veterans shall not support you.

We are fighting in the wrong countries -
we need be here at home.
at once in an ethical war with politicians and corporations
daily firefights of heated words and actions of discontent
- this is our country, we fought for it.

Veterans – we must fire our fifty caliber rounds
of truth – words aimed relentlessly and purposefully
our succinct words must pierce these corporate veils
“people are most important – not profits.”

White hot tracers, tracks of truth
must ring into the political jungle – leaves must fall.
Our words war is here in America
not in Iraq – not in Afghanistan
those are political wars – not people wars.
The people war is us – what are you doing
for veterans in America?

Veterans – what are we doing for ourselves?

I remember rockets
there is no red glare
only tracer rounds flashing
yellow, white - hot red
into the black night air.


Doug Claybourne –  Chu Lai – 1968-69 – Memorial Day – for Wayne Claybourne – 9th Marines WWII and A.B.Brudvig - Quang Tri 68-69.
Copyright © 2012. Doug Claybourne All Rights Reserved.

For Wang Wei, Li Bai and Du Fu...

I

for Wang Wei…After Deer Park

Light fades, only the sound of the crowds remain,
traffic on Beach Boulevard, the honorable sushi guests
overtake the crashing waves in strains,
a cacophony of noise made, while purity of vision rests.

Cape Town

II

After Wang Wei…Birdsong Book

He talks on his mobile phone
while all around him is God
So much consciousness –
lovers on the beach –
a sailboat passes by –
couples walk hand in hand
surfers are downed by waves
in every human being – a full life exists.


III

After Wang Wei – Autumn Nightfall..

The lighthouse stands empty,
silent along beach boulevard at sunset.
Only my loneliness is loud,
as the restaurant where I sit writing.
Suddenly, a green light goes on
in the lighthouse turret
and I notice an attractive woman alone.
The twilight burns with wonder.



IV

 

After Li Bai – off to Yangzhou


I know you have said goodbye
yet – the sorrow is still mine
to caress – to love – to hold
until it is all a dream.
and the sake is gone -
then I go home alone in sadness.


V

 

For Li Bai…Listening to a Monk from Shu Playing the Lute


I will get drunk tonight on sake –
and celebrate our years together
now finished
watch the ocean go black and gray
here on the southern most continent of Africa.
I will kiss you goodbye -
and think myself to sleep.


VI

After Du Fu…A Fine Lady…in Cape Town.

It’s black night -
as my heart is dark this night.
my last in Cape Town.
as once, sometime long ago my
heart was full of hope –
not now –
night is watching
and the sea stretches out
like eternity.

J.E. Dorsey – aka Doug Claybourne
Copyright © 2005. 2012. Doug Claybourne All Rights Reserved.