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    Echo's from Vietnam and beyond
    Echo's from Vietnam and beyond
    Echo's from Vietnam and beyond
    Ebook217 pages36 minutes

    Echo's from Vietnam and beyond

    By Dr. Jack A. Apsche

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    About this ebook

    I wrote these and other poems during a span of many years. They are all based on real experiences for better or worse I do not write about others experience or out of wondering what something would be like in my head. So, I hope someone get's my writing, yet on the other hand they were written for me and me alone initially. Often I was trying to exercise daemons, hurt and to express humor and joy or my life's experiences.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherePrinted Books
    Release dateMay 22, 2012
    ISBN9781476370095
    Echo's from Vietnam and beyond
    Author

    Dr. Jack A. Apsche

    Jack A. Apsche holds a doctorate in Psychological Studies from Temple University in Philadelphia. He is currently pursuing an advanced degree in Criminal Justice. Dr. Apsche is a researcher, author, lecturer, and consultant His curiosity in human behavior extends well beyond serial killers, from the everyday problems of everyday people, to the particular problems of Viet Nam veterans, the behavior of organized crime and law enforcement, and the rise of the German neo-Nazi movement His research centers on the quest to uncover the reasons for the behavior differences between the ‘saints,” the “sinners,” and the rest of us. Dr. Apsche lives with his wife and family in West Virginia. USA

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      Book preview

      Echo's from Vietnam and beyond - Dr. Jack A. Apsche

      Echo's from Vietnam and beyond

      By Dr. Jack Apsche

      Published by ePrintedBooks

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyrights by Dr. Jack Apsche

      No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, photocopying, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

      Somewhere near Hill 837 in Vietnam the Republic of in early 1967, cleaning my M-60. I am not sure who the kid in the picture actually is, rumor has it it was me at 18.

      Dedication

      This book of poems is dedicated the people who have been in my life, who inspired my writing. You know who you are and if not make something up!

      Table of Contents

      Copyrights

      Dedication

      Section One

      Section Two

      Section Three

      Section Four

      Section Five

      About the Author

      Section One

      I Believe

      Steam Trails Revisited

      The mist blinks thru

      The deep green vegetation

      The humidity form the month’s monsoon

      Creates steam trails

      From body heat

      My flesh has rotted

      In every crevice

      Of my skin

      And I smell like

      Meat left out on

      The sidewalk for a

      Week in July

      I won’t ever get dry

      Unless I get wrapped

      In a poncho

      Tagged

      And flown home

      For a ceremony of

      A select few

      Who might attend

      And

      Attempt to remember

      That I once was human

      And dreamed

      The dreams

      Of

      The innocent

      Walter Cronkite

      That’s what I miss

      Clean video

      Tight shot’s

      Close-ups

      Walter Cronkite

      Drug related

      And Vietnam

      Hot cities

      And Urban guerillas

      Fashionable radicalism

      Its long gone

      Walter Cronkite’s

      Body count

      Anonymity in number’s

      People dying

      On the front page

      Or Time

      Entertainment

      For the dinner meals

      And empty boots lined up

      After Dak To

      In the Inquirer

      Beat poems

      Hip phrases

      And

      Anonymity in number’s

      More body counts

      1 miss

      Anti-war music

      Hot groups

      Lost hope

      No dope

      Kill a slope

      Orange joke

      Beat poems, man

      Where ya been?

      It’s all gone now

      Just like

      Walter Cronkite

      Hard to Find

      Love poems are hard to find

      These days

      So I decided to write one

      For you

      Instead we went to bed

      Made love

      Rested

      And again

      The Group

      We walk past the wall

      And look at the names

      Of the dead

      We look far away from

      Each other

      As we don’t know

      Who would die

      First

      If we were

      There

      Again

      The Village

      The village was surrounded

      We were in an ugly mood

      Several men went down

      There was no enemy

      To be found

      We torched the village

      An old man climbed

      Up on his hooch

      To put out the fire

      Polly butt stroked

      Him across the mouth

      As he lay there bleeding

      My thoughts raced

      But I did my job

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