You took my innocence
You took my sense of safety
You took my ability to trust
You changed my feelings on intimacy

But you gave me much more
You gave me awareness
You gave me caution
You gave me a blazing fire

A fire that burns inside
A fire to fight with
You had absolutely no idea
How much stronger I would be

You took my sense of safety
My ability to trust
But you gave me even more
A am forever a fighter

My tears tell a never ending story of my life
Why can't I just be at peace while I'm trying to become your wife
I'm just surrounded by this bad luck
I'm a target for ******* that wanna ****.
Here's my story
(I'm better now so no need to worry)
"Getting out of work doing what I do best
Heading to my loveable nest
4 guys push up against me
I thought I was getting robbed again so I just handed my purse so they
can set me free
But they wanted more
They wanted to make me feel like a *****
Reliving my past in such a disgraceful way
Makes me so ashamed
These tears just can't describe what I feel
Even as I write it feels so real
I thought I was dreaming
But I realized I wasn't, that's when I started screaming
The first guy touched me in such awful ways
in such awful places
Then the second guy came and hurt me even worse
I was alone.
No one could hear me, I cried wishing I were home
The third guy was the look out, making sure noone was coming
It was like 1am Friday morning
What could have made these men so *****
Why me? Why me?

I cried,  pushed, scratched and kicked
While they ******, ****** and  licked
So gross it turns my stomach even now
I was trying my best to be real loud.
While the first two were done
I still had the 3rd and 4th  guy to come
They switched places
As if everything was so perfectly planned not to leave any traces
This was the worst part
I grabbed my chest feeling my pounding heart
The pain was increasing
The blood was flowing down my thigh
I was laying on my stomach while two guys held my arms
The other guy held my leg and the other one did the harm
I felt the tearing of my skin
and the blood glistening off my skin
They left me stranded laying on the cold pavement.
A woman came outside which seemed like an eternity.
All I wanted was you my by side loving me
She called a lot of people and they saw me
Right then and there I felt relieved
They took me into surgery
And I need a total of 15 stitches on me
Doctors said "You are lucky you aren't dead"
"You lost a lot of blood you see"
I thanked them and they left me to rest for the entire day
I slept and woke up and could only pray
Is there a god in this life of mine?
if there is, what does he think of me, I only want a sign...
Why doesn't he help me
Protect me
Haven't I suffered enough
I been through so much
Right now I just need u saying its not your fault its going to be okay
But I've realized that it has to be my fault there's nothing anyone can
say
I've re-experienced the past that I was growing out of
I was trying to live a new life only based on love
The last time I got ***** the man I was with said
"You're a ***** you let them do that . You should be dead"
This time, I await

Who are you to cast down upon me
This, never-ending list of commands
To force yourself upon me
Devil’s instrument in hand
Wishing to overcome my body
To plunge diseased flesh deep within
Conquering long valued sensibility
And bask amid my unwarranted sin
You may have torn my soul to shreds
And abused my womb and thighs
For my every new depraved low
Is your new fascist high
I’d thought you were not the same
I had been abused before
However never by you
So this is what comrades are for?
I am left weak and used
A plaything for a man’s pleasure
Once for fun, now out with the trash
Is this how my value is measured?
My legs are bruised, my skin is flushed
I’m left a broken mess
I cannot confide in the ones I love
To them, I may not confess
You’ve torn me apart
And left me forbidden
I’ve been handled and fondled
Nearly bedridden
My ears still hear your dark words
My flesh still crawls at your touch
You’ve burned an invisible mark
For which I cannot do much
I hate my skin for your touch
I hate my ears for your voice
I hate my body for your *******
I hate you for not leaving me a choice
To you this is probably a game
You probably thought not of the pain
For now I am deemed damaged goods
And may never be longed for again
This must be kept a secret
‘Less I face even more ridicule
For an act I desired no party in
And yet I am treated still so cruel

It's been over forty  years,
but I still feel the tears from
thirteen months of combat in
a  no - win  situation called
Vietnam. The years just keep passing
by, and still many Vietnam
Veterans die, and no one wants
to admit why.
The anger and saddness is
still there and what makes it
worse  is a society that acts
as if they care, acting like
they know where we had to go
and what we had to do, and
now they just stare.

Our tears flow for our brothers
whose names are on that Wall,
the ones who answered the call
and gave all.

It is American tradition to honor
War Veterans, but they shut the
door on us and some just can't
forget.
For some better late than never,
but for me it just won't go away.

Now a whole new generation
in a different era thinks a  simple
" welcome home " will do. A
generation that is blind to what
went on, and the the injustice
that we were served,
a generation that looks the other
way when the homeless living on
the street try to speak .
A generation that ignores the number of
Vietnam Veterans taking their
own lives every day.
The shock of this is so much,
I  just don't know what to say.

Some of us choose to live another
day and this new generation
honoring us needs to know
that we will not just go away and
that they will have to deal with
us someday, giving more than
just a " welcome home" that
comes a little late, and they need
to know  why our minds are in such
a  f*^k^d   up state.
                              Jon York  USMC Vietnam  1969 -70

,

When a poet cries,
tears are his words,
and so many are
coming from this poet,
as I write looking for
a rhyme because my heart
aches so much  it seems
a crime.
This paper is my sleeve,
wiping away the tears
that form a delicate weave
deciding what to say about her,
each teardrop with a life
of it's own as they fall
down on to the paper.
I will continue to cry until
the right words are found,
because  my love for her
was not a gift to be given,
it was a love that wanted
to be accepted and accepted
I thought it was when
she said to me,
"Could you really be the one
I've searched for in
all of my sixty years," the one
I've dreamed about
and shed so many tears?"
going on to say,
"thank you Jesus for this man
I've looked for so very long
and I will treat him like the gold
he is and sing my happy song."
This love I'll never lose I thought,
and this is a joy I cannot refuse.
But her parting left in my heart
a big hole and she does not wilt
at my cries and I know she
does not fret, for in her
I found reprise.
The love she gave me
I won't forget, but my
loneliness harms me,
becoming darkness,
a broken heart startled
into awareness.
I am horribly ashamed
because I find I've gotten lost
with no one to find me,
but I only blame myself.
Mornings are the hardest
for me because she is all
I see in my thoughts,
but by afternoon the pain
is mostly gone but thoughts
of her never leave and
I continue to grieve.
So happy for two years in
what now seems such
a short time and now all
I am left with is a rhyme.            Jon York    2011

It took so long. . . .
to finally come alive
to find my way back from the darkness
to crawl out of the hole that I buried myself in
to finally see light again
to finally start getting it right

It took so long. . . . .
to just open my eyes
to get back some self respect
to discover the real truth
to rid myself of those who were never real

It took so long. . . .
to not throw stones anymore
to learn how to climb over those stones and build with them
to see that the answers were right in front of me
to discover that I was just too blind to see

It took so long. . . .
to understand all of the words in my head
to put  my words down on paper so they can be read
to realize my purpose here
to not really care if people stare beause they know what I did while over there
to be really proud of my service in a lost war
to finally realize the score and just walk out that door

It took so long. . . .
for her to finally find me
for me to finally find her
to realize the happiness and growth that occured along the way
to finally know my direction
to be glad that I passed her inspection

It took so long. . . . .
to know that today was fun but tomorrow is another one
to watch my words flow and watch where they go
to accept that some things that I just can't forget and move on
to know that this time I will be strong   

It took so long. . . .                                             Jon York      2012

We are all young
at some point in our lives
and we are all older at another point
in our lives and we all go through
that time in between
and some are what they buy
and what they are sold
as some just exist while doing
nothing in their lives
except growing old.

Some succeed at whatever they do
because Daddy's money will
see them through
as some fail at everything they touch
while there are those who don't
ever do too much
as they just sit there and don't really care
if they ever win or lose
because they never get
to choose.

Some of us go through life
happy all of the time
while others just frown because
they get tired of being the clown
and being held down
because of the way they look
or because they can't
read a book.

Some are born with strength
and speed and can usually
take the lead in whatever
they try to do while others
just sit around and cry
and wonder why nothing ever
comes their way
as they keep thinking
maybe someday.

Each generation is different
but in realty the same as they each
try to make a name for themselves
but in the end we are all so much the same
as we all try to play the same game
of survival with nothing changing
except the tools which we have to use,
the time, the place and the face
of those caught up
in the race.

The one constant is love
with the only thing changing
is how much one is prepared to give
and how much one
is willing to receive and of course
how much you let yourself
believe in as you realize
that everything is different
but nothing  changes.                                             Jon York        2013

I remember. . . .
When I first heard your voice
and I knew at that very instant
I had no choice but
to make you mine
in time.

I remember. . .
That you saw my pain
and my sorrow and you made
me look forward to
another tomorrow
and you made me laugh
and feel alive again.

I remember. . .
The first time we touched
and it seemed so right
that I never wanted to let go
and when you told me
that you loved me
and it set me free because
I not only believed it,
I felt it too.

I remember. . .
When I felt your smile
as we kissed and
as we lay in bed together  
nothing else mattered.

I remember. . .
when you called me
just to hear my voice
and thinking to myself
where would I be if you
hadn't come along
and set me free.

I remember. . .
the feeling of your body
so soft and warm as you
slowly rode me
through the night
and oh my what
a beautiful sight.

I remember. . .
telling you that I once
knew a place cold and frightening
and bitterly blue
and if you should find
yourself there too
I'd hold your hand
and walk with you.
                                           Jon York                2013

this ribcage is a door behind which hides an ocean
sounds of the waves escape the mouth
I moved around the kitchen as carelessly as I used to
my body independent from the wanting
these egoistic creatures upon which I stand
never made enough use of their strong fibre
rocks and water have left marks on my skin
earth fighting a battle on the surface of our bodies
like bubbles - when you poke it, the air gets out

I belong to you, a bit wearied and bent
diving through each dark coloured leaf
I push my palms against the starlit sky
space between the earth and the moon is mine
I wish you'd make a constellation out of the marks on my skin
and fall in love with each one of them
I wrote it in capital letters so you would know
the adjective that was missing; like your voice
that used to remind me of who I really am

a tree extends across my back as wings would
there is a place on the back of my neck
where you can kiss me and make the branches shiver
so I can feel the eternity rushing through the veins
but »never« is a word unknown to this suit
the future doesn't look so infinite
growing old with the dread of ending
let the body not be aware of its mortality
moon is the heart, stardust is the blood

http://natasek.blogspot.com/2013/03/poem-belong.html