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The Creature (Reflections on Vietnam)

Have you heard of the creature that prowled in the wood?
And frightened the people and stole half their food
Then off went a huntsman with all his brave men
To hunt for the creature, but never again
Some men returned; others did not
For it wasn't the creature, but they that were sought

This was written when I was 13, in 1964, more than 3 years before the Tet offensive in 1968. It is the first poem I wrote.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
Editing stage: 

Comments

It's an amazing poem. I love it.
Just as an aside, mark it for the first poems workshop. If you go on to edit, then scroll down, you'll see the workshop box. Then it will show under the collection of poems for the workshop.

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Remember we are a workshop site.
Don't forget to offer critique on poems you read.

I have hardly any inclination to edit.

Keith Logan
the happy chappy
https://www.neopoet.com/community-guidelines

author comment

It's not to edit it as such Keith, it's to select 'Poets' first poem' in the workshop tab at the bottom of the page. This way the poem is assigned to the workshop.
Jx

------------
Remember we are a workshop site.
Don't forget to offer critique on poems you read.

the ending speaks of an awakening and lost innocence. I like this very much!

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

you may be right, not something I had thought of.

Keith Logan
the happy chappy
https://www.neopoet.com/community-guidelines

author comment

Mark it for "First Poems".

It is a powerful piece and not only because it is small. This is what the Imagery workshop is all about.
The images are there in an almost hidden language.
This is not a poet's first poem, but the work of a mature poet.
I am duly impressed.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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This poem overcomes its faults with both the raw emotion and message........stan

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