The cost of war from the prospective of a Vietnam Vet's son (me)

[Dragonbreathp9d]

Mr. Goodstick
Jonathon Vann


Thunderous rotations overhead
He sits in front of his wounded
Brothers.
A maelstrom of blades above
and below
flicker with fate.
Blood and bandages
loaded into the belly
of The Beast.
Grease gun lubricated
liftoff, the Tiger Flies.

Years before my mother,
Semper Fi was the only thing
in his heart.

Desensitizing impossible
as images, screams, smells
flood the belly.
Repressing anger at
brainless heads talking
infects skin and
Soul.

Loading victims of
loading problems,
guns jam like LA traffic,
jungle ablaze in
Orange and lead,
Leaves flashing as
Leaves fall
Six feet.

Flying from
Mountain of Marble,
to Frivolous Fury,
from fighting in ‘Nam,
to fishing in Texas.

Shouts at the enemy
converge on the children,
the son.
Warmth covered in cold,
Masked behind the mustache.
Emotions shunned, unwanted,
Misunderstood.
Red reaction to every occurrence.
In his mind
depression can be overcome,
perfection is never obtained,
to disagree is to betray.

Friendship a necessity
and a danger.
Jumping and running
in the night
years after.
Pent up rage
at all
released in random spurts
like storms over the desert,
Rain with a popped tire,
Thunder with lack of studying,
Hail with a disagreement,
Lightning with a misunderstanding,
A Tornado spun up without
Reason.

Lt. Col. retired from
The Corps
To Captain
The Triple Seven
and to Command
The Household.

Consoling liquid
Floods fluidity.
Sanity split
between two -
The Jungle Warrior,
and the Suburban Father.
Senseless snaps
like trip wires
and pistoning bolts,
all releasing fury.

Reasoning there,
back there,
over there,
unreasonable.

The fan belt
continues to slip,
knocking the machine
out of balance.
Nixon as much
an Enemy
as Charlie.

He slips back
when he should
continue on.

LBJ sent LQ,
he came back
Mr. Goodstick, split
between two
Worlds, Times, Lives,
Families.