Black Poetry : Haunted By Viet Nam

ASHANTA

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 15, 2003
1,859
74
Brooklyn N. Y.
Haunted By Viet Nam
I Live In The Belly Of The Beast
By Jacqueline Amos




I walk the cold streets, hands in my pockets,
hunger that eats at my bones,
no warmth to ease the cold nest of the night,
people walking back an forth,
tears upon my cheeks,
laughter that feels the air,
a world that lives within its own space .


Card board boxes that I seek,
Back doors that empty food within the street,
I hunt like a dog who seeks for food,
a man who walks upon the land, USA
Visions of Viet Nam, trained to killed like a dog.
Freedom I fight for my country tics are thee.


I live like an animal in a cage.
World War Thee living in the belly of the beast,
lived better in the swamp,
had food on my back when my stomach,
cried to be freed. Living in my country,
tics are thee, who cries for me,
a prisoner of mind,
in the country I fought for all men.


Bombs are blasting , fire works flashing,
duck said the man, as the bullets fled my way.
Cold nest of the night, layered with clothing,
that man through in the boroughs,
as garbage in the night,
I flee for warmth in the deep of the night,
flash backs of a swamp,
running from the bullets from the other side.

Vietnams cries, I have met you on the other side,
Bullets blasting I stand correct.
I salute darkness, a bullet place in my head,
living in a card board box,
I got my gun, put it to my head,
was ready to meet God on the other side.
Fears of Suicidal lynching,
Society imbursements, laced with poverty.


I stood at attention, when the man in blues coats,
removed me from the card board box,
I lived through the night.
Placing me in a prison ,
only a dog would live ,
through the call of night.

Oh say can you see, by the dawns early light.
I without mind, I without a home,
I without food, I died in Viet Nam.
Scars on my back, Scars in my hands,
Scars that have eaten my mind.
Let everyman stand, Let every man pledge.

Let everyman live ,for the freedom of the land.
I sit in the belly of the beast, my scars are deep,
my spirit is dead, I no longer sing,
the national anthem of the land.
I gave my life, you gave me death,
I no longer see the stripes of your song.
Give me liberty are give me death.

The coldness of the night,
the troops that walks upon the night.
The spider borrows from the fly,
sitting at its prey, the giving heart gives within,
human kindness turns no man away.
The smell of gasoline,
that sets before the cardboard box that I live,
the boy the man a human fire that set for me.
I the land that I fought to be free,
living in a trail of death,
As the fires burn my flesh,
I jumped up and saluted ,
the man the boy who stood before my death.

U/UNDER S/SATIN/ A/Authority
USA

Oh Say Can You See, By The Dam Of The Night.



Copywriter 2002


Let everyman stand, Let every man pledge, Let everyman live for the freedom of the land.

:confused:
 

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