I’ve Wrestled Jerusalem…With My Misfits

A poem in two parts

I’ve Wrestled Jerusalem

I’ve walked through the street of Tel Aviv

With young people, like me

We share a beer and a smile

I’ve shambled through the check points

Across the glass the same faces

We share hostility and a scowl

I’ve watch rants about “those fucking Arabs”

Over the foam of my cappuccino

Bitterness in the coffee beans and the voices

I’ve broken bread with photographers

Rubber bullets marked his face

His voice tells me the wounds are not just skin deep

I’ve sat in the splash zones

Closing my eyes against the spittle and bitterness

Lies and half-truths stinging like pepper spray

I’ve paused in silent remembrance

A women and unborn child

Cut by the keen edge of a young man’s desperation

I’ve awoken to my classmate’s snores

Guilty at my annoyance

Across the street children are woken by flashbang’s

I’ve sat in rubble, trash blowing around me

Frustrated by the apathy and dysfunction

Corruption of the will, corruption of the state

I’ve walked toward to the table

“If only you’d come to the table”

I’ve stared glossy eye’d at my computer

Trying to explain to my caller

The invisible stories now etched on my heart

I’ve walked with world travelers

Jumping between worlds

With the ease of a bus ride and a passport

I’ve sat in silence with the brightest

Student, peers, friends,

Humbled by our own ignorance, how little we know

I’ve look in the mirror after a hair cut

The short hair, the tired face

Give me a uniform and I’d be in their place

Today I wrestled Jerusalem

Tomorrow I’ll do so again

Thank God I do not wrestle alone

…With My Misfits

Every good movie starts with a misfit team they say

Like Lord of the Rings, Star Wars…..

And those are the only two that matter anyway

This teams a bunch of poets

Making Raps, haikus…

Looking at us you wouldn’t even know it

We’ve got more card sharks then a poker den

Always Playing “Scum, and “idiot”…

Trust me they stay up way past ten

A pastor, a journalist and biologist walk into a bar

Not a joke, or a story

Just what our Friday nights often are

Since the start each one of us as grown

In mind and in heart

I know it cheesy feel free to groan

Each place or lesson a seed on our hearts

Each memory, each face

Watered by tears and sweat from the hikes we embark

I’m a big softy, this is not unknown

Quite mushy and protective

But at least you got this poem