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Group poetry: During a recent
poetry reading in Menomonie, Wisconsin, groups of poets and poetry-appreciators
got together and all donated thoughts to create a group poem. Here are our
results, we all thought they were pretty interesting. At the end is the
work of two local poets who have been kind enough to share their work with
wispeace.org. Thank you to all involved!
Group 1
I hear the whole earth singing
I hear the silence of the stars
I need to stop thinking
Thinking of all the sound
Fearing of all the hate.
A thousand times we’ve come to this place
Suspended in grace upon the river.
Shall I go with the flow
Or move against it?
Where is my raft?
For I am lost in a river of thought
Suspended in grace, fearing, waiting, knowing,
Praying for the bird of prey on a branch o’er the river
The distant sounds of bombs and tears are
Drowning in the song of starbirth.
I hear the whole earth singing.
Group 2
I wanted trees
Heavy with compassion
Instead a slow fog moved in
Winding its way along the branches
Obscuring the comfort I seek.
I closed my eyes
To capture again the dream I sought
There was a flicker
An amber light shone
Illuminating my tears.
Group 3
There’s nowhere to hide
Once we know the truth.
I’m stuck.
I don’t know where to turn.
Honey, did you remember
To get the duct tape?
Illegitimate leaders with
Dollar sign eyes and bloody hands
Lead us to places we don’t want to go.
Maybe if we burn
All the oil we’ll have
To find another option
Or maybe we can open our eyes.
He pulls on his Dad’s
Moth eaten khakis
And kisses his ass goodbye
While mothers weep
For their lost children
And fathers kneel and pray
And to some it’s just another day.
Turn up the TV
Drown out the voices of the world
Liberate the oil
With our flags unfurled
Record profits for Exxon.
We are all culpable.
Group 4
Everything is learned
The heart is in the teaching
Why not grow?
Our lessons are not reaching.
Teaching violence and desolation,
This path does not lead to peace.
My students stand in front of me.
They eyes are saying
They are not prepared.
Group 5
Intent
One tangible way to take on momentum
Is to be present
Holding a sign for peace in a crowded street
Or holding your breath in a quiet moment.
Listen to the birds’ song
Feel the sun on your face
And this will bring a new dawn
Simply hold a steady pace.
Group 6
“Everyone in this group is so creative.”
A bad start is better than no start.
So we started.
Keep it simple.
Move away from sad thoughts.
Do something good for someone.
And they will do something good for you.
Open the windows
Open the doors.
Keep the faith.
Spring’s a comin’.
Group 7
Time is fleeting.
When will the bombs start to fall?
Complicity surrounds and bombs
In the name of us all.
We look to the heavens for relief and redemption
The sky gathers clouds
Rain starts to fall
The sweetness of Spring
Comes after all.
Weapons of Mass Affection
Ron Welsch
Double Dark and Almond
Truffles in our hand.
Orange Alert: Red Alert
Troubles in the land
GW and Saddam
They wage war on TV
And soon they’ll take our children
From all of you and me
Over evil we must win
God is on our side
They don’t say “Its for the oil”
They don’t say they’ve lied.
If Afghanistan raised broccoli
And Sadam had only sand
There would be no war
There would be no plans
My banker brother pleas
Don’t make such an appearance
Or else they’ll surely take away
My top security clearance.
My brother says “subversive!”
Watch out! You’ll be arrested
But in this land of Freedom
It’s our right to contest it.
No, I cannot be silent
I have to raise my voice
If just to teach my children
There is another choice
Americans vs Iraqis
That’s not what its about
What matters is if we let them
Or if we fuss and shout?
It’s not about the people
It’s not about our freedom
Its more two bullies proving
Who has the biggest kingdom?
They have the right to speak
So let the Bullies rage
Let them slug it out
But within their private cage.
We do not have to take it
We all of this land
We do not have to fight them
The people of the sand
We can all rise up together
And stick it to the master
All the workers around the world
Can have peace now and faster.
So tonight we thinkers gather
To stop this mass destruction
Let’s leave a lasting legacy
Lets send gifts of mass affection
Send them truffles, medallions and Chocolate covered beans.
Send them sauce, brownies and
Coffee rich with cream
Let’s keep our bombs and bullets
Don’t send them oe’r the miles
Let us all eat truffles
And paint the world with smiles.
To the Nuclear Awareness Committee
by James Eggert
- You know how sad I've been this week?
- I watched Pollini play Brahms
- and thought..."maybe no more Pollini,
- maybe no Brahms."
-
- I watched swallows swoop up and down
- in the most carefree way;
- but then there may be no swallows,
- and nothing carefree
-
- Last night I forgot
- when I heard peepers in the swamp;
- but when I whirled my daughter around,
- I again felt the chill-- and had to stop.
These Ashes
©2003 Bryce Black
The fate of these ashes
did not much concern you.
Enshrine or scatter?
You refused to say.
But I know you never
asked to sleep here
behind such solemn bronze,
one more brick
in this silent marching wall.
Long ago you mustered to the cause.
In Oak Ridge, Tennessee
you helped uncork Hiroshima's genie.
We won fragile, desperate peace
forever poised
on the brink of doom.
Of this you approved, mostly--
"we did what we had to do."
You acknowledged, though, the irony
of a tool whose entire point
was that it should never be used.
"Lt. Col. William T. Black
Reserve U.S. Army Engineer Corps."
This plaque,
so starkly engraved,
does honor--
but omits so much.
Where are the endless cotton rows you hoed,
the rivers you dammed,
the huge Alaskan pipeline?
Where are poker hands and crossword puzzles,
orange and avocado trees,
the stilts you built for grandsons
you called "Chief"?
Yes, and where
the divorce, the bottle, the cancer,
estrangement and forgiveness?
Surely you deserve
to be remembered for it all.
For your life.
Platoon of uniformed
volunteer veterans
standing at attention.
Army chaplain
who never met you
drones on,
granting salvation
you found irrelevant,
elevating "what we had to do"
to mythic drivel.
This is just
what you asked us not to do.
Now the boom box plays "Taps"
and rifles fire a salute.
Your widow receives the folded flag,
your two sons, the spent cartridges,
still warm from the gun.
Much later that night,
by light of the healing moon,
I sneak out to your beloved garden
and plant the empty shells
beneath fragrant orange trees,
where your ashes
must long to be scattered.
--
LoTec Windmill Service
Bryce Black
N3528 County Road D
Arkansaw, WI 54721
715-647-3033
<lotec@nelson-tel.net>
www.poetsagainstthewar.org
For more information
go to www.wispeace.org
or call Greg at 232-8532
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