Category: Rodney’s Poems

By Rodney Schmidt ~ September 2, 1969

Is it real? I ask myself…
While I stroll in Cam Ranh Bay.
It’s such a pretty place
But there are soldiers here.
The mountain is a splendid fantasy.
The Phantom’s roar streaks by.
Sand, just like home’s beaches…
Bared savagely by treacherous wire.
The people here are delightful
But wait till you turn your back.
But ever the smiling faces
Can but hide their fidgety tensioned terror!
Even the lowly, lazy lizard
Scampers off at a speck of dust.
The clear blue sky
Bearing down one hundred ten degrees
I simply must be dreaming…
Who fired that shot!

By Rodney Schmidt: 1968

To look into the sky,
brings back pleasant memories.

I recall my youthful days,
when love was fresh and new.

It was so pure with morals high,
as near as I recall.

But as always, in a haze,
that love did fade away.

And now as love again draws nigh,
I cannot help but think.

Will it end as always, in a fiery blaze?
It just can’t happen again.

But then this person, who catches your eye,
as sweet as a morning rose.

You lose yourself in a million ways,
and dream how it will be.

And once again, you heave a sigh,
to enter reality.

What else is there to say,
except “I told you so.”

By Rodney Schmidt ~ Sept 7, 1969

I left your love, your land, your life.
But I’ll be back again someday…

It’s not that I wanted to
it’s just something I had to do.

Despite the tear of the widow’s eye,
here I am…why Vietnam?

The only reason I sleep at night,
is knowing that somehow you will understand.

You step off that plane in the black of night
Cam Ranh Bay’s no different than McChord AFB.

Then you see it, the barbed wire and sandbags.
Hey man, it’s got to be a dream.

Had any man said boo, we’d all be up the nearest tree
Including the man who said it.

Just when you started feeling secure with the rising sun
You see it, the ambulance at the dispensary.

The doors swing wide and “Oh My God!”
At least he’s here and they now can quench his pain.

You relieve yourself and force a joke and think
lucky guy, he’ll at least be home soon.

One shock goes but not for long for what is this I see.
Oh shock, or horrid terror, what is this I see.

I try not to make myself believe it’s them
The ambulance team bearing a covered stretcher.

You laugh it off because you are a man
And try not to let on it really hurt.

The callouses form
And you accept it as a new way of life.

You look around and think
He’s got to be a teenager, just like me.

Back home he’d not even be old enough to drink.
Now, he’s drunk on end for an entire year.

You look around and listen too
to think not a virgin for miles around.

You live in scum, soon you smell like scum,
what’s worse to look and feel it too.

And war is scum, all knew that’s true
Yet here we are to prove that wrong.

The callous grows thick and hard,
all goes and to survive.

There was a time when a child’s sliver
drew my deepest, tender sympathy.

Now a man loses his leg and more
but that’s now life to me.

Love…one day I’ll be home again
and this war, history.

When it’s all over, help me to forget,
Help remake me what I was.

For to you I give my heart
keep it safe…and pure…
for my return.

By Rodney Schmidt: 1969
(side note: lost love, desperate search to tell, the great emptiness)

I’m a long way from Home…
Home’s where I’m at.
The world once so bright
Now heartless and cruel.
I’m all alone now
Yet their war to fight
Love is joy, a purpose for life
Lack of it is desperate desolation.
I only hope my body takes as long dying
As the love that is within it does.
My bags are packed.
Soon I’ll be on the go
But for that stranger’s smile
I could never go on.
I must believe…
But love’s memories are so, so grand.
It couldn’t be true; then it was,
Now it isn’t, or so they say?
Hey…hey you there,
I love you?…please?

By Rodney Schmidt: 1969

History confirms that man never brings peace
Yet they send me to a place I’ve never been,
For a cause unknown and to accomplish what?
Why am I here? Why is anyone here,
I guess I shouldn’t complain, I did volunteer,
But that was long ago.
The colonists died so their sons would not be forced to do so too.
Yet Tony is here now.
Maybe there is something I must prove…
But only to myself.

By Rodney Schmidt: 1969

If it’s not sand in the air
Then it’s the omnipresent rain.
The barbed wire gives a type of security
But still I prefer the sand bags.
A home? For now maybe…
But it can never do.
I’ll hide behind club room doors…
But I can’t forever stay.
You ask, why me?
But I ask you who sent me,
Yes, I think I know.
See you in a year…or so.

By Rod Schmidt/no date

You see, I longed with all my heart
for someone from on high
To erase my greed and fill my need
To bring my love to life

Oh how great it is to be loved
But greater still it is to love.
Yet I in all my selfish greed
Tend to despise love less than mine.

Then there you were, it was a start
So gentle as a dove
Our lonely lives together drew
Your love was so divine.

Never before, except from above,
Did one attempt to try,
You gave me love and much more too!
You took away my strife

Your love around in me
The truest of joy and even a smile.
I was beside myself with what to do
You caught me quite off guard!

In you I found security,
Without your love I could but die.
The more I got the more I gave,
I then made plans for life

The truth to my face was showed
Her love only lasted a little while.
My love, my life, who now will save?
No human heart will ever regard.

I trusted one, I trusted two
But it’s with caution that I go on
It’s just another lesson in life
But when will I ever learn
If only you would know how much I loved you,
And now again I enter the trial,
To learn to love with no return

~says: written by a confused fake heart

By Rodney Schmidt
January 17, 1968

Some days there is this gleam,
within my eye,
a sparkle all its own,
camouflaged by a smile.

But then there comes a time,
when all just seems to fail.
What happened to that gleam?
It almost formed a tear.

What’s right, is right, what’s wrong is wrong,
the best can you detect?
And what I do, I pray be right,
God help me, here I stand.

The days may come, the days may go
What’s that but history?
It’s not what’s done, but the thought behind,
that really brings up your score.

But what about the world out there?
Offended it may be.
But then again I must recall,
“What about it?”

Do we live for the world,
for ourself, or God?
I ask you,
why go yea here?

That, that I do,
I try my best!
I always think it’s right.
it would appear I am wrong.

Sure I know at times I slip,
and often indeed I do.
But time might tell, and God will know.
and that is good enough for me.

By Rod Schmidt – The Plum Creek Naturalist (1989)

Just because the Robins have left…
It doesn’t mean winter has to appear.
So what if all but Red Oak leaves have dropped,
The almanac says the shortest day still is not here.

But then that fat Woodchuck…
You’re right, I haven’t seen him for a while.
Instead of simply hibernating,
Perhaps he’s met a vixen’s guile.

The first snows have come and gone,
But this last one still is here.
Was yesterday’s migrating Mallard flock the last?
Okay, wintertime is drawing near.

First it’s frozen, then it’s open,
the fickle lake just can’t decide.
Yesterday I walked on water,
But I still can’t make those waters divide.

Now that the Tree Sparrows
Have descended from the North,
Some say it’s another sign…
That winter will soon spring forth.

Longspurs, Buntings, and Horned Larks
in unison agree,
that the temperature has dropped
a considerable degree.

Then there’s the Jackrabbit,
sure enough he’s turning white.
But I haven’t dug all my taters yet,
I’m not ready for winter’s bite.

Most bucks and does
Have seduced their mate.
But the greater challenge has begun
of evading a hunter’s fate.

Tis the season
Of snoozing gophers.
But the Fox Squirrels
remain dashing jokers.

With iced-over beard
the signs are clear,
a taste of winter
already is here.

The Season’s High Country Salute From Yellowstone’s Wild Places

By Rod Schmidt (September 12, 1976)

Summer has somehow… though don’t know when, slipped into fall…

The elk are now boldly bugling out their challenges, adding special excitement to frosty mornings. The pelicans have made their ceremonial aerial circling salute to the high country and have distant visions of the California coast.

The moose are slowly shedding their annual velvet as if reluctant for autumn combat.

The elk have long unsheathed their dueling irons, and already the young bulls on crisp mornings are testing their ranks on the nearest tree, getting ready for the day when they will dare to challenge the imperial monarchs, and claim the fair ladies.

The loons overhead have cried their mournful farewell to the northern sky.

Excitement and expectation are in the air everywhere! The grizzlies in the remote meadows are tanking up on their last-minute grocery raids before the store closes. And with each growing cloud to charge over the horizon, one anticipates a soft new white lining on the lofty Aries.

In the higher reaches the aspen have struck gold.

The old bison of Hayden who fared badly in his bellowing challenge for the next generation of the valley… made the coming winter a bit more welcome for a satiated king bear.

Remember to walk softly, for you have not been the first to tread on this land, nor will you be the last…