Peace

There was a point we were drifting towards;

There was a place we were seeking.

We called it: The Home of Sublime Understanding,

The Quality of Differences Subtly Restored.

“After the War,” we assured one another:

The War to Make Living Safe for the Living;

The War we have been breathing since birth—and before.

But the War never ended.

Its sand filled our mouths with reproachable sorrows.

It was mother and father, sister and brother;

Priest and rabbi, preacher and imam.

The Causes lay under a quilt of stars.

And numerous corpses clawed the hard ground.

The politicians hallowed the ground.

The various preachers hallowed the ground.

Children placed wreaths on hallowed ground.

Great monuments were built on hallowed ground.

They gleamed in the sun.

Patterned, colored cloths, called flags, flapped

Over hallowed ground.

The band played anthems over hallowed ground.

And we forgot:

There was a point we were drifting towards;

There was a place we were seeking;

We called it: The Home of Sublime Understanding,

The Quality of Differences Subtly Restored.

Gary Corseri has published novels and poetry collections, edited the Manifestations anthology, had his dramas produced on Atlanta-PBS and elsewhere. He has taught in prisons and universities, performed his work at the Carter Presidential Library and Museum, and has published/posted his work at hundreds of venues, including DissidentVoice, CounterPunch, The New York Times and Village Voice. He can be contacted at: gary_corseri@comcast.net. Read other articles by Gary.

This article was posted on Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007 at 4:59 am and is filed under Anti-war.