Upon departure, crowded
together, a flat voice said, "Look to your
right, to your left. One will stay. One will limp
back. One will walk back." Something inside
changed. I ate knowing that it is good for my
body. I sipped whiskey because it is supposed to
relax me. I look at a woman's legs, because they
are supposed to have beauty. Look into the quiet
sea, the white puffed clouds, the white sandy
beaches, the gentle winds because..they are
supposed to be peaceful
Upon arriving,
there was a deep thud shaking the ground. And
another. Then another. Everyone was running in
desperation. I saw an explosion and thought,
"That cannot possibly be meant for me"
I was told to go to
the armory, and there, I saw a half used, unlit
cigar hanging from a mouth. I heard, "It's
either your life or their life." He issued
me a weapon. And I held the piece. It was there,
even though I could not feel it in my hand
First night, my
clothes were my blankets. My pack was my pillow.
Darkness brings all the sounds of violence that I
dare not interpret..because I knew that I must
close the eyes, so I will think I am resting
Checking in, a
hurried voice says, "Do your job. Eat and
sleep as best you can. But above all, know where
the holes are in the ground." War is usually
making holes, not finding them. And then,
something happened. Past and future disappeared
A sunset always
stops time somehow. Sometimes it is a welcome
rest for a moment. Sometimes it is impending
terror. But a sunset in the apocalypse always
means the other self is being aroused. With the
last glimmer of knowledge, I peer into the
surroundings. I survey carefully. Every little
sound, every glimmer of light is amplified. I feel separated from
everything...localized, isolated within my own little night
[machine gun nest at the parameter of Dong Ha Children's
Hospital, 1968]
On the road, I am
surrounded. In the village, I am surrounded. In
the bush, I am surrounded. In my sleep, I am
surrounded. And someone says, "It's always
like that." And there is no sense in being
afraid. When I am, I feel a little touch of
craziness
When impending
destruction whistles overhead through the air,
there is a stillness inside that knows I can
never feel completely safe. I feel better, but
not much better learning to live with this
There is always
some site, some structure where the winds of war
passed through once before. When I look at them,
I feel pulled into its time
In the name of the
father, resolution...the son with no legs..and
holy mother spirit, hope..life, in the midst of
an apocalypse, is so blessed
Looking at a
calendar, I know down deep that it is madness to
use it. But I do anyway, just to feel normal
One day, after mad
violence, I saw a little girl. She was wearing a
dress for the first time. She was so small, and
eating an orange for the first time. The pain
seemed gone from her damaged leg. Violence always
brings first experiences
Once upon a brief
reprieve from war, a doctor sat down. And
suddenly some boys under his care ran to him,
under him, beside him..on top of him. And he was
smiling. In brief reprieves from chaos, sometimes
I see a heart of gold, and its purpose
[Dr. German, a real humanitarian]
When I saw, the
young boy was firmly supine. The light was
radiant and it cast onto him, onto his skin, into
my mind, raw and dark scaled from burns. The pain
had consumed nearly his entire body. He just laid
silent..waiting. Pain can only go so far, until
it just ends. Pain goes no further after the
destruction of its living threshold
"GI! Hey,
GI!!" They were asking for a favor, or had
something for me to buy. But their words echoed,
not for what they wanted. In my mind they
echoed..."Why? am I here"
Living in the midst
of the apocalypse, there is always suspense
everywhere. A question is always everywhere. I do
not look deep inside, because there, I am
simply..afraid
And I saw. There
was a young boy sitting darkly in a chair. He was
sitting crookedly because his left arm was
bandaged straight, and his chest was bandaged.
The fires of war were searing. And I looked into
his eyes. I could not find him there. Truth is
difficult to look at. Reality..too difficult to
feel
He was only three
years old, and his leg bandage was firm and
clean. They gave him a soda, and he drank it.
They gave him a name, and he liked it. They gave
him some beads, and he wore them. And someone
gave him a smoke..but he returned it. Alas..it is
so, that in chaos, comradeship is a delight, and
a basic need
And there was
another. And he was very young. And because of
his body cast, he was immobile. All I did was
lift him, and he looks at me, and I feel a great
truth..."another world is in my hands"
Just a young boy he
was, straight and true. Got his hand in the way,
the winds of war blew through. With bandaged hand
and arm in a sling, he was so very small, leaning
against a white post. His eyes were shy, but his
smile, very large. When I see happiness, it is
often inspiring. Through a single smile, I can
feel at home
I walk into the
nursery where new life is. The darkness of war is
all around. I feel weak and lost. And suddenly, I
feel something penetrate the corner of my eye,
and I looked. A pair of eyes was looking up at
me, smiling. In this darkness, sometimes a pair
of eyes can own me
The yard where the
native people bury their dead is protected by a
stone wall. It is said, "Evil spirits travel
only in a straight line." So, the entrance,
a charming arch tattered by war, has a stone wall
behind it to block the way of evil spirits.
Well, the winds of destruction did pass, and the
stone protector remained standing. There are some
things that will enchant me, until I look at them
closely. There are some things that will enchant
me, until they reflect my reality
In the aftermaths
of fire and damnations, there are little flurries
of excitement. But mostly, there is unsteady
stillness. And inside, I am crying
Once I was drunk on
the ground on the perimeter of my operations
unit. The ground shook. Everyone was crazy. I
tried to run, to find a hole. I had to run. But I
could only crawl. And I knew, I would not have,
that kind of nightmare, again
In chaos, there are
some who are loners. They remind me of my other
self. When the heart is uncertain, the self
sufficient self is forgotten, and generally I
find a friend, who I feel I can help. Helping
makes the heart more certain
There are many
pains. But none so affecting as the one that is
deep and dull. I saw injury through her eyes..her
eyes starved for love
When all was dark
and empty, I could not stop myself. I took a
jaundiced look at God, for a brief moment, inside
When the winds of
destruction pass through, I feel like I am being
sorted. There are many short trips down
corridors..narrow passageways where everything is
visible but dim. I feel ushered. And I do not
understand why so much is mal natured
Hell does have a
back yard, where I can know only each blade of
grass, each rock, or grain of dust, by itself..isolated from everything
else
Once, the floaters
came in. They were long since dead. They laid
long in the jungle field. They arrived to graves.
And I was drawn to see. Missing arms and legs.
Torn, soiled bodies. And gases rising from
feasting maggots reached down into me and pulled
my stomach up. I turned and walked, not feeling
the ground. Later, I saw a child suffering from
famine and disease. In this child I saw, what was
knawing in me
I searched deep for
answers. Sometimes I think I have a hold of one.
But in bringing it to the surface, it slips and
falls from my touch, like an airy piece of silk
In the midst of the
apocalypse, what I feel most of the time is
transience, entrapment within impermanence. But
nature is everything everywhere. And if I look at
the sky, I can see the part that is free
Off limits,
confinement. When I saw them, I knew that I was
as restricted. I hoped not for its end..for I
dared not spend any bit of wit for a bit of hope.
Even at its end, I was still confined in a
struggle to search for whom I had become
When I look up into
the sky, I wonder if there is a heaven, a haven
where there is peace. And I wonder why it is
isolated too
There are many
things in war that are unexpected. Everyone is
afflicted. Everyone is the same height
I saw disease break
the heart. I saw starvation bury living spirit.
More often than I perhaps should have, I hungered
for home..before the pain comes..on alien
floor, I look far off and see the hills that were
so familiar to me as a child
I was preparing to
leave. And I saw a small boy looking up at me,
watching me. When I leave, I will leave him
behind, inside of me. Somehow, I will work hard
to get him back, inside of me
Papa'saun. Papa'saun, grand
Papa'saun! I am always running
from this now, into the ethers of my mind. You
seem to accept relentless tearing of flesh, these
conditions for life, while I, only hearing pain,
so many cries, you remain, giving comfort with
your armor, all stately and wise
When night arrived,
my watch had already stopped. I become restless,
but remain motionless. Dawn is dim and too far
away. And there is no way of knowing how dawn
will arrive. There is no way to run from this
now, no exit into past or future
Covered with alien
dust, weapon readies for weapon. The children
are forgotten. Life is forgotten. The world
become misty. The guns are heavy
A sense of
something wrong never leaves me. Yet, all of
these things that are wrong are in life. And we
burn mountains so the enemy cannot hide. The
people there, they also burn mountains, so the
soil once fertilized, for all will provide
But for now, there
are no differences. And there is a place inside
that is very still. All things in war are equal.
And there are always clouds in the sky or distant
hills by which to see home
And so it was, from
this torn flesh flooding life, and so it spread
and pooled in the night of me, until from that
night I awoke in the midst of pounding thunder.
The breaking heavens! The blinding light! The
ground was black and barren. And it violently
shook from convulsing Earth. And behold! Under
the bolting light! A fiery horse. And seated upon
it was a child'warrior self crowned. And having
destroyed the world of time, it proceeded to make
war and conquest for its figment of mind. And
again, the ground shook. And the Earth
convulsing, quickly brought forth a black horse.
And seated upon it was dark Famine. Its flesh,
withered. And its eyes were sad, but there were
no tears. And the skies deepened in thunder.
Jagged light scorched the living. Torrents of
acid rain poured down through poisonous air. And
look! Up from the broken ground. A yellow horse!
And its rider, Pestilence, is old and in torn
rags with open sores upon its skin. Its eyes were
filled with terror and blood. And soon after, the
heavens became murky and silent. And the Earth
trembled. And suddenly a great bolt of light
broke through, and the Earth was drowned in
thunder. And there appeared a pale horse! moving
swiftly, splattering the cold muddy earth
everywhere. And from its hooded rider was the
creaking and clattering of skeletal bones. And
its eyes..pitch black. And its scythe was dark
and heavy putting life asunder, for what followed
was the Hades..the living death
