War Veterans

Beyond The Call Of Duty

kikirosner

Pour Papa

*

Dad's funeral Beyond the call of duty

Photograph by Yaron Rosner

*

what were you thinking

as you repeatedly crawled

into Gunfire?

reaching for your Fallen

comrades

heaving them onto stretchers

all the while hugging

the Earth

Oblivious to explosions

impervious to Bullet Rain

*

was it youthful conviction

in immortality

or teeth gritting defiance

of Death?

*

Your gathered Freedom Fighters

pushed onwards

heartened by an enemy

retreating

seeing a glow

in what appeared

At Last

the Darkest Tunnel’s End

*

cleaning and dressing wounds

relieving Pain

where you could

carrying Them

desperately

close to your heart

as they took a last Breath

holding their hands

an Angel to the fevered

*

So many Fell

you survived

a Keeper of the Story

*

Those were Thunderous Times

Returning

to the small things

of ordinary life

awoke Torment

subdued by action

pursued you into the Everyday

Until

refusing to buckle

you Succumbed

*

the voices, so many

so vociferous,

so demanding

you became Two

like Wolves

they fought for your heart

in the end

only the one you fed

could win

*

 

The Swimmer

kikirosner
Art Work by Yaron Rosner

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

*

Moving from shoal

to shoal, he disappears

close to the creek

reappears around the sharp rocks

the swimmer

proceeds in Silence

diligent, focused

the swimmer pursues a goal,

looking peeking, assessing,

moving on wordlessly

leaving no trace, no sign

as the sea slowly heaves

 in and away,

 Breath of a patient Mother

Soundless

the Swimmer

advances along the edgy

coast, showing no effort

as if gliding through oil

unaware, he perseveres

bobbing, peering, bobbing

*

Absorbing the tenacity

I see a Force

stronger

than the Man Himself

Dictating his will to live

Stay Alive

come what may

Barbed Wire

desperate hunger

there for him

always

*

November 11

kikirosner

To my Father who Honored this Day with Fervor

*

le 11 Novembre

*

Soaked in the Loss of 8 Million

Dead, Wasted and Mutilated

You Grew

Honoring them Religiously

Every November

the Sound of church Bells

Bugles

A Command to Memory

year after year

 the struggle for freedom

its Maintenance

*

Vigilantly you moved ahead

Marked with the Impermanence

of your generation

it was shock

not surprise

When It Happened All Over Again

*

You engaged yourself

as you knew They had,

the Millions who Fought

for your Freedom,

you Honored them

by never giving up

and Fighting for Ours

*

Monsters

kikirosner

articulating the depths

of your vulnerability

for the children you brought forth

was unbearable

made you powerfully belligerent

which in turn immobilized

those who could

the ensuing disaster

the sense of being both the victim

and the perpetrator, at the mercy

of your madness

*

Monsters also age,

where fire once raged

puffs of smoke swirl

into cloud formations

but knowledge of damage done

never fades

only memory thins

such a transparent veil

where what exists is what’s before you

and you, you billow, in a wind

of nameless remorse and gratefulness

Would it be Grace?

Photograph By Nick Zungoli

Photograph By Nick Zungoli

The Thinning

kikirosner
Art Work By Yaron Rosner

Art Work By Yaron Rosner

Winter has numbed us in ice,

faced with mounting crystals

your presence retreats

 

I turn in circles

 

books unopened, pens untouched

the day runs by, meals made,

a night, another day,

 

I turn in circles

 

feeling you wane

as if your breath were fainter

your body more transparent

preparing your soul

to lift from its bones

home for 88 years

 

I turn in circles

 

From armor to onion skin

a warrior’s challenge

to go in peace

without fanfare, artifice

or gun powder

 

rather a slow fading of the edges

a pacifying of the will

a softening of your ardor

now saved for me, only

 

and in the wake of your silent withdrawal,

you leave an emptiness I apprehend

 

and I turn in circles

 

 

To my father, 4 years before you passed

 

****

Hearing Them Leave

kikirosner

Nails hammered to leather soles

striking the Cobblestone

Screaming in the Wooden silence

of those Black and Silver days

I heard them Go

 

Such a Tuning Fork, that resonance

is the Background of my life

the Tapestry of Noise against which

all else Echoes

 

Muttering incessantly I cannot die

hold on, lest the Memory fade

in the race to Forget

 

I am the Wave Length of those buildings

that are no longer

 

I am a Frequency to those who come

revisit the places of horror

we dare not Ignore

 

I resonate Relentless, such ghost pains

for those who will listen, remember

and Keep Living

 

For those who deny, won’t hear

I drive them to Tone Madness

 

I, I am Sound Memory.

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

 

I Come With My Ancestors

kikirosner

I come with my Ancestors

to tell you a tale

of loss and acceptance

love and redemption

*

I bring with me

the long line of people

preceding my coming

 they gather around my person

as I sit here to tell you

that no story is told

without the telling

of ones Forbearers

 those who have passed on

their feats, failures

loves and fears

to us, their Continuance

*

I come to you today

with the stories of a people,

my people, told already

or untold, their stories

that are mine will be revealed

*

my Elders

the intrinsic matter

of my genetic make up

 the fabric

of so many mysteries

 a weft of understanding

woven into my soul

when I listen

*

my ancestors

loved or unloved

they are my life

and I, in the middle of my journey

am an Elder in the making

*

les trois freres

Utterances

kikirosner

Invisible Babble

in the background of my life

Ghosts of my inheritance

flailing behind my Mother,

dragging their feet behind my Father

One surrounded by Mist threatens

to dissolve the fiber of my resilience

the other covered in tired dust,

ancient Dirt calls me to my purpose

reminds me of my origin

The Legacy of deep sorrow

and profound joy in the wisdom

of the earth’s Beginning

The maddening Utterances

no longer outside

live Within me, those that Resonate,

the others have melted

like Vapor in the sun’s warmth,

some still come as Whispers

life Encouraging itself.

Yaron Art 5

Immortalizing Those We Love

kikirosner

In your honor

I tie my sandals,

Wipe the Dust off the table

Open the Window

In your honor

I break twigs

Build fire

Cook the food I like

never settle for Less

never compromise

Always accept what I am given

In your honor

I exercise my limbs

at times strenuously

other times less

but always with Purpose

In your honor

I bow to the power

of what I might not know

Yet stand up

For that which I do Know

In your honor

I grow Lavender

all around your house

 Our house

Watch the Bees buzz

their Worker circuits

Tirelessly,

In your honor

I sit on this Hill

Overlooking your favorite Vista

See you everywhere

I set my Gaze

The Black Mountains in the distance

Where You Once Fought

the Cypress

Where You Now Rest,

the Sunflowers

the Wheat, and finally

the Ever-Giving

Fig

In Your Honor

Borio Blanco Trees

Memory

kikirosner

Like an Ancient edifice

Sinking into surrounding water

Every year an inch, a foot

The encroaching liquid surges

 

The Foundation disappears

The first floor windows dissolve

The 2d floor disintegrates

Engulfed by time Rising

Dismantled in this sea of Constant Change

 

The Story too disperses

Maintained by the Living who Care

Remember

Are connected somehow to this Structure

Survivors dwindling

Soon the waters will swallow up

The remains

 

Who will apply themselves

To the memory of what will be nothing

more than an immovable surface?

And Why?

 

Times passes, Memories live on

In a Handful who Recall

Repeat, Remind

Who listens?

 

D-Day June 6 1944

D-Day June 6 1944