National Vietnam Veterans Day

 Here are a few thoughts about Vietnam. 

The Vietnam war has fascinated me for years. I must say, it has been some time since I have spent learning about it; however, as a youth, I read all I could. The war was most likely unnecessary. At least, the goals and objectives seemed to be unclear. Indeed, many of the people fighting in the war mentioned as much. I remember interviewing a few Vietnam Veterans for my 7th grade history assignment. They confirmed the idea of the chaos of the experience. This poem, although can in no way be interpreted to be indicative of the experience of anyone there, is how I have interpreted some of the feelings I have read about over the years. 

National Vietnam Veterans Day

Heroes for surviving

Hated for fighting

Voices of the ages

Calling them back…

Against the backdrop of empty goals

The young bleed for naught

The stumbling generation waves its flags

Banners to a nation, torn

The visible war that no one wanted to see

Troops betrayed by the thoughtless:

A government with no hope.

Whose war are they fighting?

The young march against the rising deaths

Young soldiers march against an unknown foe

Dripping sweat and lying in the mud

Pressing against self-doubt 

What began as a call to duty;

Minds forever changed by the fallen.

Traumatized

Ignored

The cause was forgotten

Fighting within themselves.

This was their war. 

And, we should not forget.

Home

This was one of those poems I sat and wrote rather quickly. Not sure of the motivation but it feels like a redemptive story. Throughout most of my life, I have felt like a failure or that I have never quite measured up. There are too many times I feel like I have turned my back on family and spirituality. Many probably feel this way, I suppose. Let me know what you think. 

Home

I stand in the light of yesteryear

Seeking my homeward path.

Instead, I find a blistered tear.

Falling from my face, I laugh. 

My footsteps trod where once I stood

A forgotten life misspent

Those first steps, tho’ did some good

My goodness somehow went.

And on my own I sought some more,

But pleasure seldom came. 

I forged the lock to every door

And lost the keys I claim. 

A gate stays poised to seek its way

But before I enter in,

I must forget the cost I pay 

And the race that I can’t win. 

Then I step up on my feet

To take the path now plain. 

And to my knees I sink in peace

To be heading home again.

My Road

 Have you ever read the poem about the two roads that divide and the poet takes the one less traveled? Of course you have. A few years ago, I realized that I never knew if he was actually happy with his choice. He says at the end "...That has made all the difference". Well, that could be a good difference or a bad difference, right? I mean, what if you took the road less traveled only to realize there is a reason it was less traveled? Maybe, there is a dangerous cliff and people were dying so they started a new path that became more worn down so no one would want to go the other way. See what I mean. So, here is my response to that poem.

My Road: By SSBowen All Rights Reserved

I took the road less traveled,

where few have gone before.

The road it was disheveled

rather quite uncared for.

In the way there stood a bush

a rose, covered up in thorns.

Creeping from the underbrush,

My flesh it soon was torn.

Tho' I walked along the path the same

The rose it stayed with me.

The blood I saw but felt no pain,

'til I fell and scraped my knee.

Was this the path the poet said

made all the difference then to him?

But, now I find I'm full of dread

and the end it seems quite dim.

Was it the path the poet took?

It seems so different from my own.

Perhaps I'll take another look

before I'm left alone.

I'll find the path I did forsake,

I question this path indeed,

the difference is not in the path you take,

But where the path will lead. -

Lost and Found

 Have you ever felt lost in life? I have spent most of my adult life like that. It has not been until recently that I have felt like me; and glad to be me. A lot of my writing over the last few decades has been sad or have negative emotions. This was necessary because I was sad a lot. The reasons are many, but the poems are meaningful to me. This is one I wrote several years ago and it reflects my thoughts about myself at the time. 

Lost and Found

Climbing through the ashes and the ever-burning haze,

Finding my true spirit, in a lost and found display.

I am called the wanderer, I let my soul for rent

Inhabited by many, unseen forces came and went. 

Knowing what was best for me, I let the latchkey turn.

Standing in a retail line, the sign said no return.

Going back to find a way, the purchase was complete.

Sadness filled my lonely eyes, no ticket or receipt.

And, so at last I realize, the end is drawing near.

Reflections of the life I lost, it doesn’t seem so clear.

I flow along the path I made, not clearly finding peace.

Looking at the lost and found, hoping for release.

But ,life it moves too quickly to give time for repose.

Don’t let your life pass from your hands to friends or even foes.

For now I float and never rest somewhere upon the sea.

And so I go, now on my own. No more wind to set me free.

War

 A short poem for today. I am not sure when I wrote this poem but it has been some time. Since I was young, I was fascinated by war. I loved studying about the history of wars and why they happen. At the same time, I have never wanted to fight in a war. During the first Gulf War, I thought I would be serving--out of duty rather than wanting to fight--but I am glad I did not have to. Enough of the ramblings, here is the poem, short and sweet:

War

I played the game of war

But found the end a bore.

To win you must, put down your trust

And do things you abhor.

Social Media and Society

The world has changed since the popularity of the internet. Even more since social media has taken control of the masses. It is frustrating to see the effect social media has on society. In some ways we see modern society as more concerned with social issues: this is true, and for that aspect I am grateful. There is a darker side to social media. 

I have noticed media has become the holder of all truth. Social media is the dispenser of these truths such that most people are unable to think for themselves. I am hoping to write more on this topic soon. For now, here is a poem I wrote in relation to what I see in social media. I am planning on having similar content over the next few days. 

Reverence

In reverence the crowds bowed.

To their god they praise,

In reverence,

Eyes gazing down.

No pious thought;

No humility.

Only hubris, yet

they honor their god...

Give ear! 

Your god must speak.

In reverence

You obey

Others you ignore.

Lost faces

Forgotten neighbors.

Religion of tomorrow:

In reverence

You swipe the next app.

Your god’s face is your own.

Post and praise!

Like and Share!

Follow its will:

Do unto yourself as the app tells you to do.

In reverence.

Mask_Maker

 It took me a while to final do this song. Jana suggested I write it and I did. It is now available on youtube. Please feel free to watch!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0I9g5HR1Pc

I love writing lyrics. Starting a new project is a rush. This is especially true when there is a meaning behind what I am writing. In this case, it was humor. 

What type of songs or poems would you like to see? Send your ideas. 

Opportunity to Excel

 My dad is one of the most positive people I know. He also loves mornings. As a youth, I did not enjoy how energized he was at 5 AM when he would wake me up. One of his favorite phrases when he woke me up was "It's another opportunity to excel!". He still has the same outlook on life. 

A few months ago, I was driving home from work and had my dad's phrase pop into my brain. When I got home, I quickly wrote the following song. 

Opportunity to Excel

Style: Country

Copyright Steven S. Bowen 2021

V1

They say time passes; no time to return.

What do you do with the time you burn?

At the end of your life what do you want to say?

Make the opportunities come your way.

V2

To the people who wake before the dawn

I remember those time when I was young

Woke in the dark no lights were on

Dad called out with the same old song

Chorus

“It’s another opportunity to excel!

Another dream to make,So do it well. 

Do your best. Help them on their way.

Take the opportunity to excel today.”

Bridge

Living my life with my dreams in my head.

Too many times I left my dreams in bed. 

Too many days, too much time to kill.

Too many dreams left unfulfilled

V3

Now I speak as one who lost his way

Take these words my dad would say. 

Think about the time left here on earth

Know that your time is of greatest worth. 

Chorus

“It’s another opportunity to excel!"

Another dream to make,So do it well. 

Do your best. Help them on their way.

Take the opportunity to excel today.

Was Once a Child

 

Was Once a Child: Dedicated to a girl I knew when we were children. I have thought of her often over the years. I have not seen her since we were children. A few weeks ago, her life was taken in violence. This poem is for her. 

Once, not too long ago, she ran free;

Burdened by cares of the playground,

A bruised knee, a hurt feeling. 

Once, she laughed at the mundane;

Seeing life for what it was-

Through the eyes of the innocent.

Once this child sat in awe,

Fascinated by the magic,

By the mystery of the land of make-believe.

Once, she began to grow.

Life’s tapestry, once hopeful,

Colorful threads weaving a life

becomes frayed and tattered.

The visions of make-believe fade to reality.

But, she was once a child. 

Once, growing and seeing anew

The world’s magic changing 

To a now darker hue

Wanting again to be deceived 

To once again run free…

The child could not return..

Once, she was beauty;

A face to a thousand fans.

Glorified, crowned and praised

A worldy admiration,

A soulless salutation.

Once, not long ago, she could not be free.

Running away or running towards,

She had lost the vision.

Make-believing her own reality.

Lost and forgetting the beauty of childhood,

Her innocence mistaken and broken;

Robbed of a chance to return.

Lying faceless in a nameless place.

The threads of life now torn.

Many will not forget,

tho’ she may have for time,

Those days of youth,

days of wonder.  

And now, she returns to the child who once was.

This time, forever. 

Haiku

It was my understanding that Haiku must follow a syllabic rule of 5-7-5 for its construction. However, recent research into this revealed this to be erroneous. Many references mentioned the confusion is due to the Japanese style that cannot be adequately translated to English. The original version of Haiku do have some general parameters relating to their construction; however, the Japanese do not have syllables as we do in English. This causes some differences in meter in the English translations. Furthermore, English poets often focus on the message of the piece rather than abiding by the arbitrary 5-7-5 rule. 

It is, then, with pleasure I share a few examples of Haiku. 

One waxing moon

A silver lake at midnight

Nature opens to love

I wrote this shortly after reading several examples of Japanese Haiku that had been translated to English. As you can see, I do not follow the 5-7-5 rule but believe it follows the feeling and tradition of Haiku.

The following was written on the same day as the above. Here I follow the 5-7-5 "rule".

Dancing lavender

Nature turns to purple hues

I glory in spring

The standard for Haiku is to focus on nature; however, I attempt to maintain the emotional needs of the style and apply to other areas of life. 

Homeless and lost

The people hide in shame.

Where is humanity?

I have learned a lot from these attempts and hope to build my skills in other forms of writing.