When young men’s thoughts turn to war

-Third and last of a series

By Eileen Wingard

Eileen Wingard

LA JOLLA, California – Of the twelve student poets who participated in the Oct. 16 Jewish Voices-Jewish Poets readings in the Astor Library of the Lawrence Family JCC, only two were males.

It was a coincidence, perhaps, that both young men wrote about war.

REMAIN by Liam Rosenberg
(SD Jewish Academy High School, 9th grade)
Excerpts

Ever since I was small and young
All there has ever been is rumbling
An onslaught of commotion here,
An elevating crescendo there
Then the fleeing cacophony of shuffling feet.

Those sounds have shaped the way my family moves and migrates
Their might governing how we live our lives.
In 1940, we were Levy
Then next, we became Lewis
In fear that the wish of the subhuman monster called Hitler
Could finally transpire.

Life in Britain was normal once
That I know.
On tired nights when the bombs seem to never cease
When the last flame burns out in the old brick fireplace
And the air,  jaded with the restless conflict, seems to never settle in one place
Mum snuggles up in bed with me,
Recounting tales of a bustling, incomprehensible London.

From Dad, I hear only horrors
Our cousins in Austria massacred for being Jews
In France, narrowly avoiding their demise
And to the east, sought out by the Germans
All facing their destruction
For just an identity.

But the worst part of life now?
No, not the bombing
Not the fear and paranoia
Not the sleepless nights
And certainly not escaping, migrating week after week and month after month
It is that we can do nothing but wait
Wait and remain in strife
Until this dreadful war
Resolves itself.

*

LOVE LETTERS by Shor Masori
(Community Jewish High School, 12 grade)
Excerpts

This Oklahoma kid got drafted to Vietnam
Counting the hours til I’m homebound
Why was I chosen for this
12 months until I’m back

Made some friends
They’re ok
I miss you
11 months until I’m back

Got the guitar you sent
It looks sad, I like it
If only I knew how to play
10 months until I’m back

All I have is time
Yet I can’t use any of it
Everything is just hurry up and wait
9 months until I’m back

I started learning to play George
I named the guitar George
Luckily this dude Jimmy is teaching me\
8 months until I’m back …

Break in Saigon
It hurts…it’s not supposed to hurt
All the girls like George, wish I could understand them
4 months until I’m back

Mine almost got me
I’m fine
Some journalist took a picture of us, that was neat
3 months until I’m back

We started a dead pool for the platoon
Jimmy and I put money on each other
Neither of us is feelin’ lucky
2 months until I’m back

Best friend just died, I won $100
George is weeping
I hope you still recognize me
I month until I’m back
I love you Mom, these letters are the only thing keeping me…always yours, Bill
I’ll send you one last letter before I come back

*
Eileen Wingard is a freelance writer specializing in coverage of the arts. She may be contacted via eileen.wingard@sdjewishworld.com