Do not PANIC………I have NO intention of finishing that start of a poem……

And since the election of 2012 is anything but interesting….as a matter of fact….it is boring, pathetic, lame, ignorant…..and about 100 other words used to describe something……I need to get my head away from the searing boredom from time to time…..what better way to do so than to reach back into my past for a little enjoyment…….

But I will use it to introduce a new feature.  Back in my much younger years I thought of myself as something of a poet and from time to time I would like to share a poem that I wrote starting in 1967.  I wish I could say that they all are amazingly good or well formed or whatever….I cannot.  Some are quite naive and juvenile and not up to the standards of poets like William Blake or e.e. cummings or Robt. Frost or any of the thousands of poets.  Basically, they were a coping mechanism that I used in Vietnam and after my return when the dreams got the better of me.  Some are just plain dumb, some have a bit of eroticism in them and some make sense only if you are tripping (a nod to Hansi)……….and then there is those that are just plain….CORNY!

I will begin in the year 1967.  After my first couple of months in Vietnam, I needed a release from the mental dodge ball my brain was playing with reality.  If you were there then you know what I mean….if you weren’t then take my word for it….you needed an outlet, especially a mental outlet.

This first poem was written about the girl back home….the girl that you knew would be there no matter what……we were naive in the beginning……in more ways than one…..please remember this was an 18 year old trying to cope…be kind….

Poem #1

DAWN

Early morning is her name,

Gold, the color of her mane.

Pale green eyes shining bright

Piercing every lonely night

lovely, graceful—mysterious he guise

Young and innocent yet old and wise.

Delicate, fragile–a gazelle

Beautiful, this girl, I know so well.

Heady scents enshroud her beauty

Do I love her?

‘Tis my duty.

Far away in a dreamed of land, never near yet never far.

Will she be the one for me?

Am I good enough to be,

Will one day she be mine?

Ever lovely, ever true,

Am I the one for you?

To hold you, in my arms, once more,

I will never be a boar.

Til the day of my return,

For you, I will yearn.

Yes, my love, as you can see,

You will always be,

The one and only girl for me.

12/12/1967

Oh God!  Was I a sap……funny the coping mechanisms that our mind employs……this is the only poem I wrote in 1967…..Okay …let me have the critique!