Baby Killer


There were no parades

When Joe came home

They spit on him instead

Baby Killer! Baby Killer!

Shouts Ringing in his ears

Not one pat on the back for Joe

No thank yous for a job well done

Why couldn’t he tune in, turn on, tune out

Burn his card and run away to Canada

A bomb disguised as a child took out his company

He lost his left ear, and gained a purple heart

War bruised his heart to the point of a violet hue

 

 

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Unknown


He lived a life Unknown

No One noticed him

He was a country boy

Tended the fields from

Sunrise to sunset

He honored his Mother

Honored his Father too

Gave thanks for the land

Day Came The Unknown

Received word to go to War

He Proudly went and served

From Sunrise to Sunset

From Sunset to Sunrise

He Gave His all With Honor

Though He was Unknown

 

A Night In The Park


Vietnam War
Vietnam War (Photo credit: San Diego Air & Space Museum Archives)

 

 

I was part of the original Occupy Movement in Chicago. It was August, 1968. We were in Chicago, Illinois and tensions ran high in the park.

 

 

 

The Democratic national Convention was slated to proceed in Chicago that year, and The National Guard would not stand for a group of Free Thinking ,Long Haired Freaks who wanted to exercise their Right to Assemble, not to mention their Freedom of Speech to protest the ongoing conflict in Vietnam.

 

 

 

There were about 15,000 of us gathered there in Lincoln Park that Hot August Night. We wanted an End To The War. Plain and Simple. We Wanted Peace.  The Establishment saw it a different way. They put their own spin on it. We were beaten down by Police batons, barraged with tear gas, it was as if The Vietnam war here in Chicago and we were the so called enemy combatant.  Didn’t they expect us to fight back? Sure they did. They incited the riot. We didn’t have weapons, batons, tear gas, and guns. What the hell were we supposed to do. just lay down and let them beat us? We were a for Peace and wanted an end to the War, but we weren’t stupid and they knew it. The majority of us were educated, college students. They knew that we would not allow them to infringe upon our rights, nor outright kill us.

 

 

 

They say you can’t fight City Hall, and it’s true. The bastards bound and gagged one of my brothers to a chair, put a bunch of us on trial for inciting riots. All of this because we messed up their Party in Chicago by telling the truth. Never trust a Politician, even the very best ones are Liars, and they will always do what it takes to come out on top.

 

 

 

Don’t Ask Me


Breathe it in

Then breathe it out

Carry them away

In a body bag

Home to Mom and Dad

Sit by your phone

Wheeling and dealing

Beads of sweat collecting

No, hold on a minute

How does that commercial go

Never let them see you sweat

Calm Cool and Collected

While they collect the casualties

Is it freedom or greedom we fight for

And it’s a One , two, three, don’t ask me

I don’t know what we are fighting for

They don’t want us over there

Sound vaguely familiar anyone

 

 

 

Violet Hue


There were no parades

When Joe came home

They spit on him instead

Baby Killer! Baby Killer!

Shouts Ringing in his ears

Not one pat on the back for Joe

No thank yous for a job well done

Why couldn’t he tune in, turn on, tune out

Burn his card and run away to Canada

A bomb disguised as a child took out his company

He lost his left ear, and gained a purple heart

War bruised his heart to the point of a violet hue

 

 

Theatre of War


When Johnny comes marching home again

If Johnny comes marching home again

Hey, Joe, Where you going with that gun

A Band of Brothers off in the jungles

Brothers and Sisters out in the desert

Storming the beaches and kicking mighty ass

They call it a Theatre of War because the show

Must always go on my dear comrades

Arms and legs flying left and right in the night

The show with blood splatter and gore it goes on

Freedom fighters until the very end my dear friend

Wounded Warriors we remember them on Memorial Day

honour thy soldier


Order of the Companions of Honour
Order of the Companions of Honour (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

the rockets

 

red glare

 

flesh burning

 

in the air

 

freedom

 

is not free

 

honour is

 

a loaded weapon

 

bought and sold

 

with the souls

 

of brave soldiers

 

following orders

 

of masterminds

 

playing a skewered

 

game of chess

 

in wonderland

 

shouting off

 

with their heads

 

to the first faction

 

to disagree with

 

their tight set of rules

 

honour thy soldier

 

for he know not

 

what he does

 

and he certainly

 

does not get enough

 

credit for all that

 

he does do

 

in the name of service