No winners in war “Killed and killed”
Father died in 1996 at 61 years old. The war could not leave him. Heal, my friend. Not kill. Father song was hard and sweet. He fought hard, loved hard and died too young.
Killed and killed
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
A true and sad story of the permanent wounds of war.
He would come and wake me up late in the night.
I watched him and listen to his war stories.He would start calling out to lost friends.
I would sit and pity him for his great pain.
.He drank every night to try to hide the burden.
He told me. ” I enlisted son, I don’t know why for Korea and stay a second tour.
The blood infested my soul.
I killed and killed.
I watched my friends die.”
He would sit alone and talk to ghost of men left in un-marked graves.
I would carry him to bed.
He would whisper ” they are not coming home.”
My father had no fear.
He was a hard and cold man who loved laughter and woman.
God, those memories drove him crazy.
When he quit drinking he never talks of war.
He told me ‘ no-one cares about his time in the war.
He was another crazy Indian man killing for the USA.
Ain’t no rewards now or then.”
My father held all his Army decoration with great pride.
He was proud to defend his country.
He said ” I know soldiers must fight to keep us free.”
My father died a young man of 61 years old.
The old Soldiers came and gave him a 21 gun salute.
I wonder would he trade the nightmares and the blood on his hands to be clean of a war never won.
COYOTE
1998
© 2011 Coyote Poetry
Thank you for sharing your poetry how cruel war is and the effect of it on you and your Dad. This may sound awful to others when I try to find the goodness in war. I finally met the Napalm girl from the Vietnam war. She embodies peace inspite of what happened to her. Peace be with you.
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Places, that knew war, They appreciate peace. Thank you Perpetua for reading and the kind words. I do appreciate.
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it is good to know what war does to people, John. I am opposed to USA sending out troops. I have collected war stories from my mother and her siblings and it’s far from romantic.
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Little romance in war. Poor new soldiers are learning what the Vietnam soldiers learn. War is B.S.
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❤
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Same world today as my father. This is sad. Teach 18-21 kids to kill and wonder what is wrong with them?
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Some day later on we will have to talk some more – because my dad was also in the Korean War – and then forever displaced afterwards. Very sad. but he also had coping problems and a few other things – but I loved him and he was very kind. Not perfect – but who is…
anyhow, it is still hard to talk about and even leaving this comment is touchy – but I had to share – and I think you are a very talented writer and thinker.
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It effected my father till his death. It is sad after so many wars. We have not learn.
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yeah – and blog hug to you for our dads ❤ ❤
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I agree.
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Rest easy Soldier.
Thank you for sharing this.
I remember a school age friend; her father fought in Vietnam. I was at a sleepover at their home when her father came screaming down the hallway waving his arms and hitting the walls (like he was fighting). He was soaked with sweat. Once he calmed down his lovely wife helped him back to bed–it was 3am. It was called “Agent Orange Exposure.” PTSD was not recognized. Such sacrifice…
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I watched my mother friend brother die from agent orange. It is a bad death. We sat and talks in the bars. I hope the father did better.
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So sad…
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Very intense and passionate! Thank you!
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My father was a good man. Served in Korean war and Vietnam. I didn’t talk back to him. He had a short-term temper. Made me strong. Thank you for reading and the comment.
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John, thank you, from the bottom of my aching heart, for this poem.
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You are welcome Ann. Kids know the pain and sadness of their parent.. We remember their pain and hurt.
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John, I am sorry. I know this story all too well. My father died at 59 and he never quit fighting that damned war!
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Old wars are like the new wars. Scar the young men and women forever. Thank you for reading and the comment..
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Absolutely! As a therapist, I have fought many a fight along with clients hoping to work through it all. Unfortunately, many never do.
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War didn’t effect me till I had to stand with a eleven years old girl and thirteen years old at their father funeral. Even the cold in heart learn sadness. Stayed with you.
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I wish you PEACE! Bon courage et bonne chance! Léa
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