Tears of the Warriors

By Mark David Blum, Esq.
and SFC Matthew Comini

(Our resident authors do battle in rhyme. Two warriors uwinding)

Said the Soldier to the Lawyer

Lifelong seconds tic by the time,
A heart is lost into the mind.
A mind is lost into the heart,
Feeling pangs such pulled apart.
Bide well my love until we meet,
Light soft upon my minds retreat.
On paths and sets and crescents beams,
Please saunter through this summer dream.
Sway high and low and leave your wake,
Crash into smiles your memory makes.
Leave behind your whispered stare,
The soft and glow of sunlit hair.
I beg to lay a bed of you,
Return to make this world anew.
Absence fond and kinder still,
Place this love in rested still.
In dew and wax of time and age,
Pray me, darkness, we find our way .
Gone for now away to do,
I ponder loving into you.
No sweeter safe could I devise,
Than one pure moment in your eyes.

Said the Lawyer to the Soldier

you say it is lifelong seconds that tic by the time
but there is no time to live; butterflies take wing
the moment it feels right, and there is peace
i try one last time to hear the bird sing

but though two as one; so abruptly torn
hours snatched, energies unmatched. explosive
it all comes out
and then just as suddenly, gone.

i too dream of a bed of two (no thank you Sir, its not you)
going away; long gone. peaking, then still
nursed, healed, delivered from pain
time is too short. the wax melts. Aging continues

pondering the dare to love. to let go and be vulnerable
how many hearts can one lose in a lifetime?
is there room in my back for another ginzu?
blushing rose pedals always open. love has already come

and yes the eyes, how they speak
glorious, glowing. smiling big
through the mud, the grey haze, and long lonely days
those eyes; wash me and baptize me. clearing the haze

sunlit hair and those who art fair
are of no interest to me
dark and mysterious, sensual and nefarious
they, be who i tie to a tree

The Soldierís Retort

Let the flighted ones take wing,
Beauty cannot be held for long.
The ear it captures silent song,
The mind betrays a moment gone.
They lock and wrap them deep inside,
No place be granted them to hide

Dream a day of love and peace,
And spend your breath between the sheet.
Set down your guard, your age, your traps,
Too soon the brass will have its Taps.

Grab the blade that cuts your wretch,
Twist it deep inside your flesh,
When it seems you stand no more,
Wrench it free from where it rests,
Bleed it out upon the ground.
The poisoned wound will find its bounds.

Hearts should live upon a sleeve,
Hid away they cannot breathe.

How many dare say one to lose?
No answer can I give to you,
Ďcause love be as a hangmanís noose.
Drawn tight around a dying man,
The rope opt cinch and twitch its stand.

Or maybe still it could be said,
Loveís binded fibers quick the dead.
The very knots that cut like knives,
May be the blades that save a life.

A gambler knows to play the heart,
But not with ease to show his cards.
Instead of binding eyes to trees,
Mayhem you set your vicious free?

The Lawyer Confesses

Guts. Ripped from their Nest.
An unexpected hand reaches in
Scoops up my heart and innards
And rips them out through my breast

Stomp. Thrown to the ground
As though meaningless
A finished cigarette
Squished underfoot; that grinding sound.

Pain free. Without a heart, there is no pain
Empty, vacuous, an empty void
Where once there was joy
I am done. Until baptized again.

Sucker. I have been such a sucker
And got sucker punched to the gut
The years, the bullets, the losses
Nothing but a low down dirty used up old mutt

Darkness. It is everywhere around me
The light that once shone and guided
Poofed and extinguished; with words
Just like that. Feeling indicted.

Dull. Senses and responses down
Closed for the Season.
Still holding tight to one last shred
Last hope; only one remaining reason

Chant. Say it with me
Donít say you canít
ďFour More YearsĒ
Then no more tears.

Wind. Watch it blow
Carry me away on an angelís wings
Let me be at peace
No more battles. Take me where a bird sings.

Quiet. Shhhh.
Remember once upon a time
You did this before. SSDD
No dropping the dime

Lie. Yeah I did it. So what?
She did it too. Good for her.
Thirteen years she stole. Greedy bitch.
ďGot Fucked Without Getting FuckedĒ. Thatís fer sher

The Soldier Stands his Ground

But I fucked back, baby.
I took hard and long and deep.
I lived as others died
I laughed while others cried.

Sun seared my skin.
Never did I feel a sin.
I loved as others laid to waste.
My values always my rock.

Costly they were at times.
I couldíve had a better touch.
But opted out so foolishly,
What a mule she made of me.

Or did she ass of her own self,
Some would say this is the else.
There is no shame in standing pride.
When right is rightÖ

I offer no excuse
Iíll suffer the abuse
I reason, I am
Turn around for you will never pass
Expect my whetted edge.

Pain free lies in darkness
My dull stomped guts chant,
ďFree me from this mess.Ē

Offer me unto the wind,
To carry me upon my shield,
With dented armor and my steel,
Not some doubtful cherubs wing.
Lay me down where I belong,
In the hills that set my heart to song.

The Lawyer Laments

It must be nice to have fought up that hill
Holding tight to your rock, burrowed behind a shield
Rock hard values make for great Sunday sermons
But there are times when even they must yield

I too have left a trail of blood,
Kept marching forward despite burning tears
The goal is righteous. Conquered it must.
No matter the wound. Man up! Face the fears.

Youth and innocence set my rock
Morality determined by the streets of life
Only too late did I learn the one hard lesson
A world of black and white is filled with strife

Like me, you took with you a dream
That later became your rock
Sissyphus would be proud of us both
We both pushed blindly ahead. Aimed the glock.

Look now, old man. Though younger be ye than me
Your eyes have seen the world. Your future is in hock.
Now its time for peace; to end your war
Weary soldier, set down that rock

For just a few moments, let go
Dare to fly and explore
A world blessed by she
The one standing at your door.

Common soldier, lets down our arms
Accept defeat. Honor matters no more.
Between the darkness and the light
Live two men; searching out the door.

Man Up and Take Aim

I think dear that you are confused
Itís not the old, I write the new.
Sure to be said Iíve raised the dead
Maybe twice a time or two.

The old was once my ides of wed,
The new I take to bed, the old she is a ghost to me,
A specter in living flesh. I know what is alive at heart,
With that I can not part.

To stand upon the rock thatís mine was not a bitter pill,
I took the hill by test of will, but broke me soft inside.
My other opt was to let go and fall beside the way,
But what man would there be left to speak in the reflected mirrorís say?

Dare not assume my values fixed, well okay, not for very long,
I learned well passed a value fast will never last so strong.
I bend and bow and give a sway, but not so much to lose my way.

Sermons got the best of me, once upon a time
Now they are just as that line, a fairy tale for free.
Guilt me not the men of cloak and collared garb,
I live the ghosts of those who coaxed a god to pull their guard.

Honor always matters, it keeps us dignified,
We can not look each others eyes, without our chins held high.
Accept defeat, oh thatís just rich to give in to a bitch.
I fathom not your words to me of have no victory.

The least that I can grasp to raise my spirit high,
Is to live a night and fight a day and surrender on my blade,
Iíll be bled one way or not, but the shed will be my make.

Said the Old Warrior to the Young Warrior

Look into my eyes, young man of war
See therein weariness of battles of yore
When I speak of letting honor go
The proposition really is ďfor whom do you show?Ē

I see you recognize the fables of the lord
And instead find God within. His music your chord.
What my friend is honor, so proud?
For whom do you shout this thing so loud?

Life, the time is fixed. Enjoyment predetermined.
Time, the enemy of life, commands enjoyment unhindered.
Morality shifts like the burning desert sands
Re-energize. Make the most of your free hands.

Son, not once did I say ďbooĒ victory
That Siren; She focuses always my trajectory
Victory and honor and winning the day
Are the raison díetre; why I play

In my last, the jab at your core
Perhaps my age was showing me sore
I have better learned to pick my fights
Aim for the peace of today; calm quiet nights

We are both warriors, at the end of our roads
You on your rock, I with my toads
Perhaps between ejaculates you will come to see more
What I meant when I said ďAccept defeat. Honor matters no more.Ē

I did not say surrender, nor throw your hands in the air
I am last to waive a white flag. Make opponents a docile mare
But son, your years remaining are more than a few
Think of these thoughts whilst still be leather on your shoe

You are making way too much of a deal
About looking someone in the eyes
Didnít youknowwho look you in the face
And bone your wife? Steal your fries?

Honor is a word that I find deep within
Do right by those I love. Even if a sin.
Defeat is meaningless since nobodyís keeping score
My energies are on happiness til my body hits the floor.

We argue yell bicker and debate
Yet not a word drips with hate
These words come straight from the heart
Hold them tight like an embarrassing fart.

My chin, such as it is, is always held high
For I have once kissed the sky
Though knocked down to earth one ghastly day
That hill is mine. I shall again foray.

But listen son, your life is your own
You determine the goal, temper, and tone.
False Gods or ideals can strip away years
And replace potential happiness with endless stinging tears

So let me say it again with vigor galore
ĎAccept defeat. Honor matters no moreí
Indeed if you fight, make it one you will win
The honors will come from those against whom you donít sin

As for you, dear soldier without a pack on your back
With a rushing wild river and waterfall out back
Might I suggest that you honor your life
Be the man you really are. Put away that whetted knife.

Fight On

The two we speak of honor, and telling many lies,
I know there, Pops, what happened to my fries.
What it is Iím getting to is not the neighborís state,
A chin held high is not a sin, when honor is no debate.

Itís not a flash of flesh or bone or what it is we take,
Itís not about the world we hide or even the one we make.
Honor comes to raise the chin only from inside,
Without a sense knowing one, weíre merely empty eyes.

Never be them personal, the barbs of you and me,
Hold on a sec, Iíll be right back, the coffee makes me pee!

Accept defeat, Iím sketchy still, but I believe I catch your drift,
Why live in hate and wretchedness with a miserís thrift?
The heart I said upon a sleeve should be spent away,
Why save your guts and spare the cuts, when loveís a toss away?

Insomuch as victory goes Iíll take a second chance,
What it is youíre saying here is not the otherís glance.
Itís not the view of folks away that matter most itís said,
But itís the sight of who is close, and of those you share your bed.

Iíll be a man of peace in soon, but first a war to wage,
Itís not about what some may think, although it seems that way.
Itís the ability to raise my chin to offer one a strike,
Break your knuckle or my jaw, weíll see whoíll kiss the sky.

I could shove it in my breast and bury many knives,
But laying down and getting diced donít sleep with me at night.
Again I say, donít think that sense, itís not just twice in sight.
Itís deep within that lives my life and makes me raise my eyes.

As fighters we sojourned to place where few will ever go,
Weíve seen the shame, the strife and snares that wicked pride can do.

The godís that should beget a life have left too many strewn.

Itís rough and tumble to create a pretty thing gone ill,
Itís coarser still to cage it down and whip it to your will.

(Unless of course, you like that kind of thing!)

I oft time think I sense from you, an emptiness inside,
Faith these words, oh friend of mine,
Your river, rock and crooked tree, the falls you find divine,
Are close to you, slow down your chase, youíve had them all this while.

The Bad Man, Behind Hazel Eyes

Dead inside?
You have no idea
Behind the grinning faÁade

Lies an empty heart
A deadened soul
Doing time, til I part

Long ago I had the dreams
Goals, aspirations, written of, in reams.

Nobody but me kicked out the chair
Supporting my noosed neck
(Standing up in fox holes
Makes you a target. Sure as heck).

Yet it was not only me giving up the dreams
There is more to me than it seems
Deep down inside a fuse was lit
A day on the thruway when I was nearly hit

Every one of us carries our bags
From plane to train to home
From year to year, from cheer to tear
Whether with family or standing alone

Contained therein are the scars and pains
And joys of live and love
Run and hide, behind the dunes of Sinai
Cannot cover up

Fighters we are; though never once here
I have mine. You, your beer
It takes wide open eyes
To see behind the pink ties

When one day,
I fa*ced my death
As 1,000 times before.
Almost my last breath

It was enough; too much for one
The burden on me weighed more than a ton

In healing that wound, in finding a way
To justify getting out of bed every day

I refocused on what matters, since what used to be is dead
Me Tu, Brutae. I have demons in my head.

The work that I do, the fun I can find
(Yes, even a whip across a barren behind)
Is how I get through
From one day to the next
Because I keep getting up
The enemyís perplexed

You see soldier boy, a man be ye true
My chin, your knuckles are no match. Youíre glue.

When you stop counting bodies and wins and the bucks
When you feel only the joy, the peace, and the f*cks

Thatís when youíre free, my son and new friend
When carpe diem is the message you send

A lesson hard learned through many a fight
Is that the end is decided. Who knows what is right?

Think about it today and the morrow and beyond
Whose gives a flying fuck if you think you were wronged

What you see as dead, however right you may be
Is also an empty vessel. Refilling slowly

A new look on life. A path through the woods
Walking a minefield. My back to Al Quds.
An afternoon at the Bentwood means more than a win
(except the dollars. That aint no sin).

My fighting skills have shifted in spirit
I cant share my secrets. Enemies might hear it.

But I hold my chin high and will throw knuckles any time
I fear not any pain. What is death? Hereís your sign.

As our enemies will say to your face every way
ďWe love death more than they love lifeĒ
I have lost my fear of death, of losing, of pain
Nothing will stop me. Not even the wife.

I will fight
Any time
Preferably not
With bullets. Just rhyme.

I donít run.
Iíve learned to walk
From place to place
There is no clock

Have you ever seen me wear a watch?
Have you ever seen me twitch?
I donít chase. I hold my ground.
Against the world and every bitch.

The problem you see behind dead eyes
Is not the chase I run
Instead young bull, I chase no more
I have laid down my pack and gun.

Man Up

In poetís fashion, to ďslow your chaseĒ means nothing more or less,
Read not into the words of mine but reach inside your chest.
Youíre not as empty as you seem, to some you live a dream.

Donít run, donít jog, donít trot about, do nothing on the clock,
Sounds to me you stand your ground, youíve got your fix of rock.

A fighterís skill faded not with time it only changed its guise,
Raw knuckles and a busted jaw, gave way to being wise.
But the fighter still remains, itís said, in a song that I have heard,
Times have changed and so have you, Ďcause now you fight in words.

Freedom takes it course from you, and justice gets its wings,
I bring bullets to the world, while you make people think.
A soldier you will always be, like it not or else,
But a soldier now on a different plain, yet nonethelesser fierce.

Thatís why it is I say to you that peace is what weíll have,
But itís peace we make and not whatís left in a soldierís life.
Weíve been trained to fight the day and take it through Ďtill night,
Not lay down like fainting goats when trouble is in sight.

It ainít about whatís right or wrong, or may it is to me,
I can tell you this, lawyer guy, in subtle poetry;
You get up and so do I, we continue yet to breathe.

Wanna know why?

It is the fight that drives us on
Not brings us to our knees.

So stow it with your empty guts, and so shall may I to,
Thereís more inside you cannot hide than you choose to light.
Youíve got your pride, you know it still,
Had you not youíd lose the kill.
Is your name the shark for naught?
Youíre battles won of were or are, not just for a selfish need,
But for the fishes you have caught, your honor trued by deed.

Back to the MarkBlum Report

It is always a far better thing
to have peace than to be right.
But, when it is not,
or when all else fails

P.O. Box 82
Manlius, New York 13104
Telephone: 315.420.9989
Emergency: 315.682.2901
E-mail: mdb@markblum.com

Always, at your service.