The story of Carole

[Mithrandir]

(written while on guard duty-unknown LZ 35 miles south south west of Kai Son(SIC?) 1968)


Caring is the distinction you give me, the capacity that precludes the final carelessness

It is a longing, an honor, for which there are no badges, medals, ribbons or anything else of war

Only your imaginary gentle letters, tattered, worn, memorized for the tenth time,

your words, tucked into my helmet like children in bed begging for another reading,

your words, read with my lips, biting each with each, them falsely tasting like wine,

displacing me to easier times,

only your photo, soiled with thumbprints,

Planted in my wallet like a bulb in the ground waiting for the sun, air, water, fire

a renewal of the beginning

Even though you, like your letters and photo, are only my minds product

you have become a symbol, a cross for courage, a scarf that through the night I bear into danger

In yourself, you're are not the reason, not here, not now,

but in the hope that you will be

you are my reason toward reason

You are the only end for these days of restless wandering

and walking the moors in another time too long in counting

There is much I have found, to believe in here

but not, for what is it?, without you

At moments you become America

All that it is and is not , distant, yet in my heart like an eagle

But these are not for you, not yours , these eyes glazed with terror,

spilling their white songs beyond their corners

No, nor these shoulders, heavy with duty, stooped like a mountains brow.

Knit with the Lords duty

The days to go, become days to you, days turning slowly to collect myself and necessarily forget

but my mind will need your strength before this paralyzed voice , weak,

almost faded, will wake again and sing with yours

This small voice, if certainly there, deep in things to come

=================

(Note : Carole is the name I had given to the Succumbus that has followed me all my life)



out...

[rooter]

Mith, I've gone back and read, contemplated, and read again---don't know how to respond. I can't determine if it is 1st person or someone detached. Age does that Mith---you tend to question things, then promptly forget the explanation and ask again---damn old age---think I'd rather try be young, foolish, and carefree just once again. Back when reading about Lady Macbeth stirred something and for the life of me, didn't even understand about all the perfumes of Arabia sweetening her little hand---was the tissue too thin? Chief

[Mithrandir]

That's alright Rooter..

just consider it more ranting of a young madman in the dark...

As for MacBeth.... I think there was a bit a madness in that story too wasn't there... I don't know much Shakespere....

out...

[daw8752]

Been there, Done that, I had my own Carol, just lost her, left a huge hole. I am not a poet but, I have had those thoughts and feelings on many a dark night far from home. The night does whisper all sorts of things, dosen't it? Sarge

[rooter]

Welcome PA. I notice you've only had a few posts...I used to serve with a good best friend from Moscow, PA...his name was Bob Hughes...He could drink more Heinken's and St.Pauli Girl beer than any of my other buddies...My own system couldn't tolerate booze of any kind so I certainly was tasked many times of taking care of them..I think that was the names of the beer...Hell, it's been 50 plus years!!! Chief

[rooter]

PA....here's a poem in the form of a country song for you....she was one of my favorite artists....Kristofferrerson seemed to have feelings when he wrote that song for her....Don't we all have dreams? Chief


At a Glance
Birthname: Jewel Faye Smith
Nationality: American
Born: Aug 5 1943
Died: Feb 12 2005 (61 years old)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
from Biography
Sammi Smith (August 5, 1943 - February 12, 2005) was an American country music singer and songwriter. Born Jewel Faye Smith, she is best known for her 1971 country/pop crossover hit, "Help Me Make It Through the Night", which was written by Kris Kristofferson. She became one of the few women in the outlaw country movement during the 1970s.

[daw8752]

Rooter, Our old Top Sergent was a SeaBee. I think he was in heavy equipment. As for the beer in Germany ours came from Frankfurt. I could handle that just fine.
On the other side of the worle it was Tiger, and 33, THAT came from god only knows, it tasted like crap but served the purpose.
As you said that was long ago and far away.
See you down the road, Sarge

[Jay]

FYI ... it's Khe Sanh Semper Fi

[daw8752]

The Beer, or the Seabees? I thought they were everywhere, both of 'em.

Welcome Home! Sarge