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Memorialize Peace


Not in Our Name
 
 
Nobody wins in a war
(well, maybe a few financiers of war industries, but)
Not us, not them, not humanity
Not the dead, not the living
Not the yet to be born
Not the land, water, air, our natural resources
Not the roads, buildings, pipes, utility lines, the infrastructure
Not love or peace or morality
Not human nature
Not Right
Not Justice
Not God
Not the battlegrounds or the cemeteries, or the unhealable wounds in our souls
Whatever we may hope to accomplish with war,
There are better ways.

 
 
Sacrifarce
 
What do we sacrifice?
Who do we put to the knife?
Ishmaels and Isaacs
innocent half-brothers
could be at puppy play
building healthy bodies and confidence
in the rays of blessing.
 
What God is this?
What holy source of life
commands atrocity?
Oh, silly man
boys in battle
regressed in the tragedies
of childhood.
If the mentor class had flourished
we would be brothers building
cities of light,
gracious commerce,
glory of
love, honor, reason,
all the blessed gifts
we profane,
we sacrifice
to a Lord of flies and
corpses.
 
 
Pangea
 
My country is Peace
People of Peace
are my compatriots
Warriors of Peace
move human energy,
time, minds, visions,
with weapons of art,
active compassion,
respect for the dignity of each and all
Words of Peace
speak beyond structured language
share profound
joy,
graceful dancing
to music of each dawn
enlivening Peace
 
 
Support Our Troops
 
Bravery?
What if they gave a war
and nobody came?
March of disorders;
unstable chemicals break down,
crush frightened innocents
into dust.
We meant to serve our country.
We meant to save lives, shore up
threatened treasure,
bulwarks against disaster.
We meant to honor the dreams of
our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers
for the good life:
family, God, country
and a wholesome recompense of fun.
Not this task of horror so intense
as to reverberate through our
remaining lives.
Who is served?
Who left in pieces that never heal?
God is on the battle field
not as general or mascot,
as witness
and gentle minister
of last rites
to shattered souls.
 
 
Unite Song
 
It's not about
black or white
might is right
fuel to fight
 
It's not about
East or West
who's the best
forget the rest
 
It's about
me and you,
if we choose,
what we can do
 
 
Speak in Peace
 

Useful communication requires common metaphor
(Divided by myths forged to unite within our tribe)
 
When I feel alive, rooted yet wild, outside of frame
a dancing child, free of security derived from shame
able to rise beyond the schoolyard game of divisive naming
 
I see within my eyes distant seas and shores,
forest folk blinking in the haze,
journeys rending years into days,
Hear the whistling, touch the swollen fruit,
amazed -- counting down as I tumble
 
How do I explain in this tongue we mumble,
barely getting through a random chat that
gives no exit wound to that ache beating inside
to grab a hand, touch your mind, bring to being
 
Yet, why would you want to see what I am seeing?
It's only peace; only curiosity; it's only
miracles of sand, twinkling, breath of fire
blended to glass, twisted into culture, class,
Beauty survives each blast, more adored for her
scars, allured by her charms, may we doze
and stumble into sweeter dreams
 
In sleep, relaxed, uncoiled core may cry in surprise
to be free; awakened realigned -- speak friend and enter
We have much to discuss
 
 
 
peaceful moment
 
Like a warm day on the beach, softly woozy from the sunshine
Feel the tingle of sea breeze; breathe ocean scent of the wild
As the sun diminishes, cooling, refreshing, yet still a lazy summer eve
Oh that luscious feeling, that overflow of quiet emotion
Seeping out of sleepy reverie, washing so gently through pores and follicles
sweet warm breath caressing
 
We give what we can; we take what we need
Marching, in orderly fashion
Or beatifically walking to a sacred drum.
The horizon shifts through daily duties and nightly prayers.
We take what we can. We give.
Without notice, without rational equation
We give each outward breath, and take in what is given.
 
Like a happy, inspiring song springs from memory to lip
Moving the fortunate mind into momentary ecstasy of dance
Moments meant to linger, to haunt as a loving ghostly guardian
Wrapped in grace's ethereal glow of perfection
Summoning iridescent spirits to play joyful ubiquitous harmonies
Like the words we tell ourselves to bring us peace.
May/27/2012, 5:04 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 


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