Poets Against War continues the tradition of socially engaged poetry by creating venues for poetry as a voice against war, tyranny and oppression.

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49 years old
Chiloquin, Oregon, North America

I am a published poet who has written and not written in odd strings of time. This is a time of writing again and stopping the war is a focus in my life. It is only natural that it would find voice.

War Dreams

I awoke to the sounds of drums today
I awoke to the scenes of war.
Surprised how far I had gone astray
I had thought they were no more.

Amazed I stumbled to the sink,
Ashamed, I splashed my face.
Anger next at this lizard link,
Having lost what was my place.

I cried at the sky, I kicked at the wall.
I fell from the room, too shaken to stand,
Felt anger at falling so short of my goals,
Felt hatred at being only a man.

I punched at the walls and my anger subsided,
I knocked down a picture and smiled.
I never imagined how far I'd been chided,
My path was still haunted by miles.

And as I lay crying, too stubborn to pray,
I discovered I didn't know why or what for.
I awoke to the sounds of drums today,
I awoke to the scenes of war.

Morning Shot to Mourning Peace

Snapping to an upright posture,
Sweat and fear and pain abide.
Sleep, where sanctuary once lay,
Is no more a place to hide.

Plaster Angels gently settle,
Glass with metal swirl the calm.
Such a small thing, 50 cal.,
Such a large rent in the wall.

Word and deed begin to enter,
Peace before and peace again.
No more money, no more access,
Weapons silent, protests win.

Not in time to save my brother,
Not in time to save my wife.
May be grace in time for Sasha,
Could be peace to start his life.

Thankful are my friends and neighbors,
Seeking peace and seeking God.
Wanting not but life’s full measure,
Wanting to make peace, alone.

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