A headless man is running down the street
He is carrying his head in his hands
A woman runs after him
She has his heart in her hands
The bombs keep falling sowing hate
And they keep running down the streets
Not the same two people but thousands of others & brothers
All running from the bombs that keep falling sowing pure hate
And for every bomb that’s dropped up spring a thousand Bin Ladens a thousand new terrorists
Like dragon’s teeth sown
From which armed warriors sprang up
Crying for blood
As the smart bombs sowing hate
Keep falling and falling and falling
Tag: poetry
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Dragon’s Teeth
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Worse than the War
Worse than the war, the endless, senseless war,
Worse than the lies leading to the war,
Worse than the countless deaths and injuries,
Worse than hiding the coffins and not attending funerals,
Worse than the flouting of international law,
Worse than the torture at Abu Ghraib prison,
Worse than the corruption of young soldiers,
Worse than undermining our collective sense of decency,
Worse than the arrogance, smugness and swagger,
Worse than our loss of credibility in the world,
Worse than the loss of our liberties,
Worse than learning nothing from the past,
Worse than destroying the future,
Worse than the incredible stupidity of it all,
Worse than all of these,
As if they were not enough for one war or country or lifetime,
Is the silence, the resounding silence, of good Americans. -
Yet Another Farewell
On the death of the 500th American soldier in Iraq
Let us lay the heavy black bag at your feet
While the tired buglers sound their dirge.Let us lay the heavy black bag at your feet
Like a terrible wreath.If you nudge the sturdy bag with your right foot
Nothing will happen.If you kick the formless bag with your left foot
Nothing will happen.It will not respond, nor speak nor cry.
Will you circle the black bag cautiously
Like a coyote?Will you howl, break down in tears
Or simply smirk?David Krieger
January 2004 -
Today is Not a Good Day for War
Today is not a good day for war,
Not when the sun is shining,
And leaves are trembling in the breeze.Today is not a good day for bombs to fall,
Not when clouds hang on the horizon
And drift above the sea.Today is not a good day for young men to die,
Not when they have so many dreams
And so much still to do.Today is not a good day to send missiles flying,
Not when the fog rolls in
And the rain is falling hard.Today is not a good day for launching attacks,
Not when families gather
And hold on to one another.Today is not a good day for collateral damage,
Not when children are restless
Daydreaming of frogs and creeks.Today is not a good day for war,
Not when birds are soaring,
Filling the sky with grace.No matter what they tell us about the other,
Nor how bold their patriotic calls,
Today is not a good day for war. -
Firing Squad
Saddam Hussein is a bad man
So let’s line up the children of Iraq
And shoot them.Saddam is a very bad man
So let’s line up the mothers of Iraq
And shoot them.We know that Saddam is a bad man
So let’s line up all the old people of Iraq
And shoot them.Saddam is a very bad man
And firing squads are old fashioned
So let’s just bomb Baghdad.After we’ve bombed the Iraqis
With our “shock and awe” two-day plan
Surely they will welcome us as liberators.Surely the Iraqis will thank Allah
That they have been so fortunate
To have been bombed with such precision.Surely they will recognize
That Saddam is a very bad man
And their oil is better in our hands.Saddam Hussein is a very bad man
So let’s line up the children of Iraq
And shoot them. -
A Dangerous Face
It is a weak and fleshy face,
A face with furtive eyes
That snake along the ground, refusing
To rise and face forward.He chews his words well,
Mixing them with venom,
Words that dart like missiles
From the side of his malformed mouth.It is a dangerous, deceitful face,
The face of a man with too many secrets.
It is the face of one who quietly orders
Torturers to torture and Assassins to kill.It is the face not of a sniper,
But of one who orders snipers into action.
It is the face of a Klansman behind his mask,
The face of one who savors lynchings.It is the face of one who hides in dark bunkers
And shuns the brightness of the sun.
It is a frightened face, dull and without color,
The face of one consumed by power.It is a weak and fleshy face,
A face with furtive eyes,
A face that falls hard and fast
Like the blade of a guillotine.
Responses to a Dangerous FaceThank you for your responses, which came from all over the world. The most popular responses to who the poem was describing were Saddam Hussein, George W. Bush and Osama bin Laden. Other responses were more general: “an enemy,” “hate,” “people who are threatening the fragile world,” “people who are fighting the modern war,” “the epitome of American fears,” “an evil human being.”
Three people named Dick Cheney, who was the actual model for the poem. Although Cheney was the model, I believe the poem describes a certain kind of person who is lacking in compassion and committed to violence and militarism.
I particularly liked the response of Laurel from Pierce: “This poem is describing terrorist leaders. Terrorist leaders do not care who they kill, maim and frighten. These people hide behind their followers. They delight in power over the minds of their victims and the men and women they draw into their plans. They spread hatred through lies and acts of hate. These people do not commit the acts of terror themselves; instead they command their minions to perform them, sometimes at the cost of these poor followers own lives. This poem describes all of these characteristics.” Of course, this description of “terrorist leaders” could also include leaders of countries.
Surprisingly, no one named Henry Kissinger, who qualifies as one of the leading war criminals of the 20th century and who, despite his history of misleading Congress and the American people, was recently appointed by President Bush to head of the investigation of the September 11th terrorist attacks.
*David Krieger is a founder and president of The Nuclear Age Peace Foundation. -
Election Day in America
Most Americans chose not to vote.
By their absence they voted against the system.
They thumbed their nose at democracy
And democracy thumbed its nose back at them.By staying away from the polls
They assured the continuation of corporate power,
Privilege for the few, and obscene military might
To defend this power and privilege.Most Americans who did vote
Cast their votes for one of our two military parties,
The Democrats and Republicans, assuring
The continuation of our country’s war machine.By our absence and by our votes
We again ratified power over reason,
Privilege over justice, and corporate greed over
Fundamental human rights and dignity.Surely, if only we had thought more about our world,
So weighted down by weaponry, war and poverty,
We could have done better by our democracy
Than we did this election day in America -
The Children of Iraq Have Names
The children of Iraq have names.
They are not the nameless ones.The children of Iraq have faces.
They are not the faceless ones.The children of Iraq do not wear Saddam’s face.
They each have their own face.The children of Iraq have names.
They are not all called Saddam Hussein.The children of Iraq have hearts.
They are not the heartless ones.The children of Iraq have dreams.
They are not the dreamless ones.The children of Iraq have hearts that pound.
They are not meant to be statistics of war.The children of Iraq have smiles.
They are not the sullen ones.The children of Iraq have twinkling eyes.
They are quick and lively with their laughter.The children of Iraq have hopes.
They are not the hopeless ones.The children of Iraq have fears.
They are not the fearless ones.The children of Iraq have names.
Their names are not collateral damage.What do you call the children of Iraq?
Call them Omar, Mohamed, Fahad.Call them Marwa and Tiba.
Call them by their names.But never call them statistics of war.
Never call them collateral damage.
*David Krieger is a founder and president of The Nuclear Age Peace Foundation. -
To a Child of Baghdad
Our bombs may blast you
to a better life. You and your vivid parrot
may even change places. We give you
a chance, at least, to better yourself.Who knows, you may be born beneath
a lucky star next time, maybe live
in our land of milk and honey,
and do some bombing yourself.They say you’ll die this year,
that our bombs did it–the power outage,
polluted water, that sort of thing–
but they’d be stretching a point.If you knew these bombs you would love them.
We draw faces on them. We keep them spit-
shined and give them pet names.
And they are smart–that’s how they found you.
“To A Child of Baghdad” is in KANGAROO PAWS: poems written in Australia
For more information please visit http://www.davidraypoet.com -
Wage Peace
Wage Peace with your breath.
Breathe in firemen and rubble,
breathe out whole buildings and flocks of red wing blackbirds.Breathe in terrorists
and breathe out sleeping children and fresh mown fields.Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.
Breathe in the fallen and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.
Wage peace with your listening: hearing sirens, pray loud.
Remember your tools: flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers.
Make soup.
Play music, memorize the words for thank you in 3 languages.
Learn to knit, and make a hat.
Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,
imagine grief
as the outbreath of beauty
or the gesture of fish.Swim for the other side.
Wage peace.
Never has the word seemed so fresh and precious:
Have a cup of tea and rejoice.
Act as if armistice has already arrived.
Celebrate today.
*Judyth Hill is a stand-up poet and teacher of poetry, living in amazing beauty, where the Rockies meet the Plains, in Northern New Mexico. Her six published books of poetry include Presence of Angels, Men Need Space, and her collection of poems of her land, Black Hollyhock, First Light, from La Alameda Press.