” to see our nation all the more civil – where life is all the more precious ” – everyday poetry 100 –

Tuesday, July 2, 2013 @ 12:44:32

After just listening to the heaviest reading, or certainly a very heavy 2 – minutes of a reading, read by our Vietnam Vet friend at the Wellness Works – Glendale, where we sit in the air cooled room, the room we switched to so we could be as loud as we wanted to be, as some times, there is hysterical laughter, and other times, not unlike today, there is a depth of silence chasing the soul inward to the meeting of the other souls that have been wounded, traumatically wounded, and those who have passed in our time, in the closeness, or the furthest of proximity, brought intimately to a souls embrace, for the understanding of wars perplexities and profundities impact taking us to where we hope to be tomorrow.

Now, a deep breath I breath, whishing in a fantasized state of mind, that the air I bring to my lungs are that of the scenery beheld in the picture I view. Yosemite, in it’s fullest glory, with the cumulous nimbus clouds hugging the mountain tops, and entering every little space of the eyes. The moisture of the Yosemite Water falls, the pure oxygen mix coming from the forest. This is where I wish to be, maybe for a couple, a few years, just to have a break from the past 17 years of hell mixed in with a few moments of joy, the enjoyment of friends, doing things that bring us closer together. To again clime the back of Half Dome, maybe several times a month, maybe this is my new favorite place to write, and spend time with friends.

The easy life taking me away from a war nobody knows, so unknown, and so must be shared, so the many others shall not suffer, so that the other lives are not thrown out, and instead of being precious, they are as if they were shit. This is not the civility in which I know my Country to emulate in the pursuit of happiness, that happiness, that is in the fullness of our Democracy, Democracy, which many have laid it all down on the ground, many have given all, and even those who are home, they still gave it all, and to all who are home, but not home, my hand to U, to do, I hope, all I can do, so that U make it to the fullness of life before the actual check out.

In conclusion, later in the feel better, this is when I hope to revisit our friend, Ron Kovic’s writing, to parallel the souls and feel the depth again of pain, that which is needed for a riveting change



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