Stephen Kalinich: 27 Young Men Went To War

27 YOUNG MEN WENT TO WAR

27 young men went to war
all of them resisted capture
obviously
fame and bravery were alluring
they fought in many battles
still seeking glory they never
entered
celluloid dreams
They preferred the real fight
movies provide escape
but the allure of confrontation
gave them a rush
that is hard to describe
keys to all the cities of the world
were given to them
They were the toast of the town
small time hustlers entered
their ranks
and a sophisticated snake shook them up
put weird passages in their head's
They went a little off center
boys turned into men that only knew
how to kill
each fruitful Victor rose
to challenge
their insanity
alleys were avoided
consciously
pillows were thrown
out the subway windows
people were sleeping on the sidewalks
in broad day light
alternates routes were sought
shady sarah
undressed inTimes Square
and all the boys watched
the rivers rampage
run up stream
against the current
on every corner there was
a needle
innocent buoys wriggled
attached to her veins
kicked her flat on her ass
shocks the wind out of her
fallen lavendar stockings
erupt
Ticks burrow into and under her flesh
time does not wait
hesitation can be a warning
working intensely inside of me
pain tries to dominat
my waking experience
I try not to descend
into the outcome
healing is hoped for
but not always expected
repeatedly
night after night
I fight the raging tempest
within my being
Why am I hurt
when they do not include me
why am I jealous?
Jealousy hides my open wounds
my whole substance
becomes a pulsating ache
I double up my knuckles
swing into the air
with all my gusto
frequently
I analyse my motives
the selfishness of others amazes me
they will kill me innocently
if I take it all in
they are poison makers
and as the venom runs
through me
I notice
I become weaker
I search for momentum to carry on
but I need grace
and human help
I need friendship
that does not advise me
or judge me
through all the hardship
I want to survive
and make Love be
with another soul
who wants to share the journey
who is as lost and lonely
as I am
someone who
does not have answers
a beautiful one
who has an
open pure intent
who wants inner peace
who kindles a desire
to go the distance
a
Being
who is pure lOve
That is within me
That is who I am
I want to know
and live with that self
I want to only hope the best for people
not be envious
use me I cry out
be kind the inner voice says
start slowly
never rush to hastily
to the determination
of what one experience means
they mostly overlap
one blends into another
and a self evolves
like a little fallen angel
who kisses the snow of January
who questions life
honestly
under great stress
Life is such a weight
a heaviness
a gigantic boulder
traps my spirit
binds my heart
release me
from this prison
let me be more gentle
to mistakes in others and myself
my body aches
my soul is sore
while getting through this night
I emerge with such little energy
and so little resolve
I cannot muster up a tear or a cry
or even get out of my chair
the shooting pain
bounces down my back
my body is cracked
my bloodstraem is blocked
ringing in my ears
is a hum
hmmmm
hmmm
allness breathes all around me
tendernes caresses
and touches
every bone and crevice of my body
catching me of guard
I want to live
I do not want to offend
I want to bring harmont to myself
and the world
to friends and neigbors
to those I know
and do not know.
How each new day
presents the opportunity
for a miracle to occur
knowing all is a part
of the one
Voluntarily surrendering again and again
falling into

each wound

you are daring

you are spectacular

Tapping endless

avenues of good

joining

wordless processions

alone in the corridor

hoping that the struggle will end

I want your sweet body

kissing me sweetly

I want your touching me always

through this at times living hell

Against a choir of endless

daily

problems and troubles

l barge into life

like a storm

and I gradually

halt

wanting until the last act

a resurrection

I want the years back

but know it cannot be.

before I collapse

I dance until I am still

I have no more will

to begin again

I need help

an altered state of being

where I give

without being punished

where I share

and can not be depleted

I walk along the sand

in Malibu

on surfers beach

an anointed hero

grasping the all telling

brilliance of the sea

A sail boat sails bye

a storm is coming

I am a dweller

venturing

into eternity

and I do not even know

what the moment means

I advocate

and voluntary

surrender

all that is not genuine

all that is not authentic

I submit myself

to you today

to learn from my mistakes

progress requires

listening and practice

I am an open slate

write your poem in me.

27 young men went to war.

I was the last.