Men, vodka and dreams of peace...

September poetry number seven. A rewrite.

Men, vodka and dreams of peace.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

 Written in 1978. Today the world is the same. Maybe worst off? 

                    Men, vodka and dreams of peace…

Wishing, hoping and dreaming. All a young man had sometime.

Dying, fighting and trying to find one reason to be alive. Young men go to war. Old men will return home.

Soldiers are just tools for men in power. If soldiers wouldn’t fight. Would there be war?

A Winter night in Boebingen, Germany.  The youth gather at the taverns. In was 1978. I was young and filled with piss and vinegar. Held no fear of life or death. High on youth and the beautiful German girls.

I was sitting at the bar. Drinking good German beer and watching the people celebrate the night. I was joined by a large man. He looked at me. Put out his right large hand out and told me I’m a Russian Soldier looking for conversation and someone who like to drink. I took his hand and told him. I like drinking and conversation. Please sit with me.

He ordered two double shot of Vodka and handed one to me. He smiled. Told me. We drink my country favorite drink. We will drink to peace, to beautiful woman, to my Russia and your United States.

I looked in the eyes of the man. He was the same as me. We like to talk, loved the women and he liked to laugh. I took the Vodka shot. Raised it high. I toast to long life, to love and to the end of war.

He put his arm around me. He spoke quietly. I pray one day we learn we are the same. Need a woman to keep you warm in the night, some land and family. A safe place to live.  We don’t need a lot.

I buy the next round of the Vodka. We are joined by my German friend. Now three men sang Dean Martin. “Everybody love somebody sometime” and Elvis “Born in the ghetto.”

Three men from different places and holding no fear of life or dying. Trying to copy, the words of good music.  Just three men trying to find some peace in the confusion of real life.

The Russian looked at me seriously, told me. Someday I may kill you, kill you for my great country.  I looked at him and raised my glass of beer to the sky. Told my friends. I drink to death, I drink to life. Let’s celebrate this night. Tomorrow may not come and death can wait.

The German Soldier told us. Someday we may learn, destroy the wall of fear. Realize we are all flesh, bone and blood. We will live and we will die. We must tried to get along.

I told my new friends. Only sin that can’t be forgiven is. Teaching the kids to hate and fear.

Three men sang together a Martin Luther King Jr. song are joined by three beautiful German girls.
One of the German girls sang a German lullaby. “All the king’s men fell down to the dead women and children. They had killed and massacre woman and children. The King’s men put their weapons down. The warriors would not fight. The War ended.”

Three Soldiers not afraid of living or death. Three different lives. Not so different. I toasted. To the days when men are wise. No need for us Soldiers. Young men and women can dance, sing and live life without fear.

Six people sat in the corner of the tavern. Drinking, singing and enjoying the night.

We ordered  fresh drinks. Raised them high. We sang. “If I was the King of the forest. I would demand peace for all people. I would require drink, dance and laughter.”

The tavern is closed down. We sat by Boebingen lake. The Russian hugged me and thanks me for allowing him to join my friends.  His eyes watched the German girls put their feet into the cold lake water. He smiled and told me. This is real paradise. A full moon, beautiful women and good friendship. This is what life is. We must learn. All of us are flesh, bone and blood. We can break like simple branches. We need to enjoy every second of life.”

I called the German girls over. Six people enjoying the night opened  a fresh bottle of Black Velvet whiskey and waited for the morning sun.

    Coyote
                                      1978

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[MoriartyMesa]

I miss how you can you tell a story.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend. A old story. It is good to be young.

[John the Baptist]

Have hot heard the saying "piss and vinegar" for years. I think it was uttered by a drill sergeant at Fort Gordon. The camaraderie among the soldiers is ironic, given today's world. If that Russian were under arms now, I wonder if he'd be in Ukraine.

[Coyote Poetry]

He would, my friend. Soldiers obey men in far-away offices. Thank you John for reading and the comment.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Coyote, I howl over this one. Loved it.
Winston

[Coyote Poetry]

A very old poem and thank you for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.