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What Was Yet Is

What Was Yet Is

Shards of Thai-stick dream persuade
combat fear to swiftly fade
yet take their toll on flesh and soul
before receding into shade

pounding rains coerce delusion
nudging optical illusion
fractal fingers, sterile stingers
make the mind seek dark seclusion

crimson rivulets of blood
tracing patterns in the mud
feral green of jungle scene
blending into primal flood

slowly sinking silent flare
illuminates what isn’t there
hidden foe who won’t let go
of land his fathers wouldn’t share

sounds of war like waves descending
on the heads of those defending
territory without glory
in a conflict never-ending

children screaming, women weeping
wounds that are forever seeping
yesterday turns hair to gray
there is no rest, no time for sleeping

C. Lon R. Bruso

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 


Another great poem! based on personal experience ( I think ). Your title is thought provoking - somethings
( like war and blood shed never cease and those who participate never forget - and so what was - is ) in a nutshell that was my interpretation of your title!

Loved the unusual rhyming pattern - and it flowed very nicely!

Your imagery captures the horrors of being a soldier in battle! and the after consequences. Your poem should be read out in schools!

Very nicely done - ( nothing unusual there )! :)

Love Mand xxxx

Yes, some of my experiences mixed in with others who were there also. I served in the US Army from 1964 until 1971 and was in Vietnam in '68 & '69. Tough times but they helped make me who and what I am today. Thank you for reading and understanding!

author comment

As another evening closes the day, I read of you and your feelings.
No one can take them away.
All we can do is marvel at your writes and seek to understand the feelings held sharp even now.
I could equate it with some of the memories I hold, but that would only belittle the things you gave up, to be part of that war zone.
I hope that writing can release or hold some of the pain that is felt, in that I share some of it but only as a spectator.
I cannot feel the pain of your yesterdays but am so aware of them that it hurts, and tears drop from my eyes or are they yours, it matters not how we feel over such a distance just know that it is possible.
It has been a long journey here, and I always hope that in your journey I can be there to talk to you of many things.
This poem shows that you can speak of things with an easier mind.
I shall leave it at that, but always know we are but a thought away,
Yours with Unconditional love, Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Your kind words and thoughts are always welcome and deeply appreciated! Hope all is well with you and yours over across the big pond!

author comment

I can actually feel your soul in this moving piece. Enjoyed reading this one from you.

I'm happy you stopped by to read this and leave me a message! Hope all is well with you and yours!

author comment

visions of "Apocalypse Now". I wasn't in 'Nam, have never been in war, never fired a shot in anger, yet you made me feel like I was there. This carries the reader to a deeper place than their own personal experience.

This is superb poetry, I can find nothing to crit, sorry.
Well, maybe one tiny crit but it's an ideological one and feels mean and trivial to mention in context, but the line
of land his fathers wouldn’t share
Remember it wasn't that the Vietnamese wouldn't share, the war started as a war of independence from France who referred to Vietnam as " French Indochina".

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

You are quite correct in your statement about how the whole Vietnam thing started, my only excuse for not strictly adhering to the historical truth is, I suppose, "Poetic License". I do not recall firing any shots in anger either, despite my earlier statements about Vietnamese people. Mostly, I fired my weapon in defense of my life and others around me being as how that's what one does when confronted with armed aggressors. I do realize that being a soldier was a choice I made, but during the times I grew up in, it was considered an "Honorable" way to serve one's country besides paying taxes. This theme permeates much of my poetry, and I understand that perhaps it gets a tad monotonous, but things are what they are, and as long as I am alive, I unfortunately also remember.

author comment

The term "shots fired in anger" is pretty much poetic license too, I realise that most soldier's experience is that of yours.

It is an eternal shame to the peace movement the way Vietnam Vets were treated. These days we protest the politicians, not the soldiers. I do honour your commitment.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

Excellent, good flow and structure right through, makes it easy for the reader to get the rhythm and timing. Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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