100 Thousand Poets Against the War-Pasadena, CA September 29, 2012

Organizer: Teresa Chuc

Contact: teresameichuc@gmail.com

Poets, especially veterans, are encouraged to post poems, letters, photos, videos of poems being read, etc. on this blog about the current wars and/or past wars. After September 29, 2012, all poems, letters, photos, videos, etc. will be archived by Stanford University Library LOCKSS. The purpose of this blog is to intimately show war and its consequences.

 

 

 


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4 Responses to 100 Thousand Poets Against the War-Pasadena, CA September 29, 2012

  1. James Cole says:

    HAIL TO GREAT BRITAIN

    Hail to Great Britain,
    Remorseless is her story.
    History leaves no proudness,
    In the land of hope and glory.

    Hail to her army,
    The blame goes through the ranks.
    Victors of the Boer War,
    Inventing Hitler’s camps.

    Hail to the warlords,
    They sit back and give applause.
    When duping brave, young soldiers,
    Into fighting unjust wars.

    Hail to Brittainia,
    She’ll make sure war’s resolved.
    Unless it would be fruitless,
    No gold or oil involved.

    Hail to great britain?
    When we see what’s beneath?
    They say that they are honourable,
    They’re lying through their teeth.

    By James Cole 2012

  2. James Cole says:

    THE TIPPING POINT

    No one knew it happened,
    When the turning point began.
    Humans finally realised,
    The gift of fellow man.

    These lands were once all war torn,
    There was no constant peace.
    Love had tipped the scales,
    To make habitual fighting cease.

    There was no final battle,
    No horsemen had appeared.
    But a change in our vibration,
    From those that volunteered.

    Ego took a backseat,
    True values been restored.
    We went beyond our boundries,
    Man’s pure spirit soared.

    In this blessed era,
    No soul seeks the power.
    Strongholds now relinquished,
    The meek no longer cower.

    New light illumes our planet,
    Lifting corrupted haze.
    Rectifying, healing,
    The scars of bygone days.

    By James Cole 2012

  3. James Cole says:

    A new dawn is approaching
    Pioneers have given proof.
    Finally I have woken,
    To reality of truth.

    I see what you are doing,
    Your murder, lies and rape.
    I see that there’s salvation,
    Beyond your blood red tape.

    You live on Earth as locusts,
    Spreading your disease.
    Fuelled with greed and hunger,
    Impossible to appease.

    You say you fight for justice,
    You promise liberation.
    I used to follow blindly,
    We’re in a hiber-nation.

    No longer can I stand aside,
    No longer be a sheep.
    Once you are awoken,
    You can’t go back to sleep.

    So expect us, we are legion.
    Never do we forget.
    Never will the people,
    Forgive your unpaid debt.

    By James Cole 2012

  4. Nicolette says:

    WELCOME HOME

    The helicopter blades
    like razors slashing veins
    break the stillness of the night,
    a young boy huddles in cold
    caught within the stars……..
    that one’s mom,
    over there, my first kiss,
    oh, and that one……
    summers on Coney Island
    Friday night keggers
    the guys on the team
    Sally’s blowjobs
    the tits on Jane
    my lettermen’s jacket,
    and that one…..
    the first time I…..

    Slowly tears fall
    like soft summer rain
    footsteps from the past.
    but the symphony plays on
    ringing in his ears.
    cries of terror…
    sounds of gunfire….
    the explosion of bombs….
    maybe it’s the fireworks
    on the fourth of July,
    or a bad dream,
    or a……….do something, anything,
    just make it stop….
    cries the child of war
    in the jungles of Vietnam.

    Can he climb a star?
    will it carry him home?
    no, the only way home
    is to shut up his feelings
    stuff’em in a body bag
    lock’em in a steel vault,
    keep them quiet with a forty five
    and destroy the fucking key.
    suddenly his tears stop
    the nightmarish sounds of war
    play like Brahms Lullaby
    cradling him to sleep. so hush little baby
    good night, sleep tight,
    make someone richer,
    get out there and fight.

    The young boy came home
    having grown into a man.
    but somewhere in the jungles
    he left behind the key
    to unlock the emotions,
    he couldn’t bare to see.
    as the years marched by
    the symphony of Nams fury
    played with all her might
    lashing out in anger
    screaming through his dreams
    he cried in desperation
    to escape the cold steel vault
    but no one cared to listen
    blaming him for losing
    a war, that wasn’t his fault.

    One day on a lone beach
    he happened upon a woman
    dancing through the waves
    a girl naked in the sun
    a poet with wings to fly
    just a lover, just a child.
    something stirred inside,
    was it the boy he was?
    who went to fight for freedom,
    not to fight for war?
    suddenly their eyes connected
    shocking him to see
    eyes that had known pain
    yet choosing to be free
    maybe therein lay the key.
    she reached her hand towards his
    slowly he reached out
    silently their tears fell
    like soft summer rain,
    gently she took his hand
    softly she whispered
    I’m sorry, you’re not guilty
    that’s the key, you’re not guilty
    the war’s over, come home
    welcome home, you’re free.

    Nicolette

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