Korean Road

Description

His tour is over, but the war rages on for Dickie, one of the forever haunted veterans who gave up his soul during the “Forgotten War.” Here is a glimpse of his story, of the battleground he can never leave. Only death can conclude his final objective: closure, and peace. Join him on his road, the Korean Road, as he battles horrors he carries and those that he meets along the way.

Editorial Review

"Korean Road nailed the hell so many of us live with. It left me craving more-more of this tragic story, and more from this capable, engaging storyteller. I'm looking forward to seeing what this new author brings us next" 
            - Heath Stallcup, Creator of The Monster Squad Series

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About the Author

Author Name : Brian Scutt

     Brian Scutt spent his childhood in Central New York until he enlisted in the US Navy. He spent 5 years serving on an Ohio Class, nuclear submarine as a Torpedoman's Mate, stationed in Washington State. Since then, he has come full circle back to Central New York, and now writes full time.

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Latest Poem

My great grandfather was a Slave

My grandfather was a Native

My grandmother was a Bantu

My mother was a kaffir, Nigga, Negro

Names imposed by shackles

But an Afrakan I am

An identity my forefathers were deprived of

 

An identity I am now polluting with the fumes of cigarettes

In dope I am giving it another face

In ecstasy I am giving it a comical image

My drunken stupor gives it an unstable belonging

My borrowed accent contradicts what it represents

My imitated dress code conceals its beauty

My adopted religion undermines my intellectual prowess

My language deafens my ancestors

My values are valueless

My mind is discriminatory

It repels anything indigenous

Whilst absorbing all that is alien

None can identify with me

Even those I am emulating

Patriotism I reserve for my kind

I look down at my patriots

If I were xenophobic

I could have been my own victim

I pride myself in my slanted inferior education

An education promptly deleting my true history

Ignorance is my custom

I am dreaming dreams my forefathers cannot interpret

I am singing praise songs for my dying culture

I am branding a heritage

I cannot inherit

Knowledge of freedom is embedded in my subconscious

But suppressed by fear

Fear to develop my culture and identity

Fear to be rejected by the world

Fear to be different and still love myself

Yet with no identity I remain

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