hot...i remember that summer..
the air was everywhere..
smothering me..
i tried to move,
and it would follow me,
everywhere I was going,
everywhere I had been...
i moved, and it was already there,
as if it knew where i'd be.
i was breathing in the same air
i had just breathed out,
and it was hot air...hot,
that summer I learned what a bad touch was.
that summer the air was hot.
the silence, echoed across the yards,
no "hellos",
no splashing water,
no echos of, "Marco...Polo"!
we closed our doors,
and we locked our gates.
for the first time,
we seperated "us" from "them".
we were inside, they were out,
yet our hearts pulsed
with the same collective beat.
our skin sweat
in the same summer sun.
our ears listened
to the same song ...,
isolated, yet united... by the air,
and it was hot air...hot.
that summer i learned that being right,
did'nt mean you were'nt wrong.
that summer the air was hot.
hot...i remember
i joined in on the wait,
for what, i didn't know.
i overheard my Mother ask
if they started high or low!
someone said they didn't know.
i looked around at familiar faces,
heard Carly singing "Anticipation",
and listened to learn my brother's " lottery fate",
even the air seemed to wait.
that summer i learned to have,
meant someone must have not.
that summer the air was hot.
hot...i remember
it felt like Christmas morning,
only twisted, and dark.
i tasted acid that day.
a gift from my stomach,
a gift to this very day.
i don't think it was the fourth of July,
yet gunshots fired into the night,
into the dark forests of 'Nam
where a boy, like my brother,
was held close by someone like my Mother.
gently. gently holding him,
gently whispering into his ear,
that summer, i learned i could change the future
with the power of thought.
i remember blaming "them" .
yes, it must have been blame
that made the air so heavy.
air, sickened by men handing out forgiveness
from a God who won't let them speak his name.
winning makes you right,
and losing doesn't matter.
that summer i learned that
we might be wrong about Satan,
maybe he just took the blame.
that summer the air was hot.
hot...i remember
it was hot.
the summer sons were called.
numbers, had us glued to the radio,
so orderly they called them to the slaughter.
the air carried the number,
we prayed for it not
to be his.
that summer,
i learned to fear death,
that summer the air was hot.
prayer, made the air bitter that day.
every mother, self centered,
and brokered for a fix,
calling in their marks.
I don't think mom breathed
until the last numbers were called.
he was lucky,
none of the numbers called,
were his,
it was another number,
another sent to fight,
another would go instead.
my Mother cried tears of joy,
it was not her son.
that summer i learned
it was a son of another Mother.
that summer the air was hot.
The son of another Mother.
A contest entry
- Vietnam Big Points by BuriedTreasures.
6000 points, ended August 11, 2008, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Your Best Three Pre-writes by piccola.
800 points, ended November 27, 2008, 140 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Make this THE largest Contest EVER on AP [enter, enter, enter!] by Symphony.
18000 points, ended April 28, 1011 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Prewrite contest by Sadistic klown girl.
1000 points, ended June 2, 155 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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This is the insight into a world that is alien to many of us but to some it is so very real. I really like this poem it was well written. Thank you for sharing.
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Yikes -
What an insight into another life, antoher time, another WORLD - this poem was everythign I wasn't expecting, and not only that, was not my usual style of poetry which I like to read an yet -
I thought it was marvelously done, and would return to read it again when I have more time on my hands.
So life like as though i was playing out before my own eyes!
Thanks for entering! -
This is lovely but more like prose than poetry. It could even be a short story if the line breaks were different. It does hold the reader's attention. You might give some consideration to making it into a short story.
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A well composed composition, but it far exceeds the 30 line limit in this contest.
Thank you for your entry. -
Excellent
This was an emotional ride, feeling the heat and the anxiety, that pervaded those times. I think you captured the pain in this write. -
Fabulous was this poem
it brings back those summer days hoping your number wouldn't be called. what IO like about this poem is it is subtle in its expression of something no one wanted without insult to the country or the men who served but also is very real about the sacrifice families made. Very good write.
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Wow. This is quite some poem that you have going on here.
I thought it very exacting and right to the point of what you were trying to say. I could tell that you wanted to make sure your readers knew you were very hot and I got that. But you might not want to have it written so many times because it over shadows the rest of your poem. Or lestways, it did for me. But I still thought you did a good job of expressing yourself. 
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GORGEOUS!
That is very beautiful!!
I love the way that you wrote it!!
The title brought so much to the amazing write!
You have a very gorgeous way with words!!
Keep all these beautiful writes up!!
AMAZING!!
Kit
x x x
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