anti-war poems

Grades, Keeping 2-S - A Poem by J.K. Durick - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Grades, Keeping 2-S – A Poem by J.K. Durick

I remember when grades were posted
on the wall outside the dean’s office

sometimes typed up, others filled in ink
a bit hard to read, always hard to take

just a letter up by our initials or number
alphabetical order was easy to figure out

we knew how we all did, comparison was
built into it, an easy way to measure us

nothing inflated, nothing debated, roll of
the dice, had to roll with the punches

too often we’d limp away, some shaken, in
the late sixties, we still had ‘Nam going on

grades kept us safe or shook us lose, kept us
around, watching a war, fighting off boredom

grades waited outside the dean’s office, land mines
firefights, we learned the words, fearing our turn.

New Departure | Stan Morrison - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

New Departure | Stan Morrison

children fighting get adult interventions
you really hurt him, so say you’re sorry
give him back his toy, never do that again
take turns, be kind, share with everyone
time out to reflect on your behavior

nations fighting seek out new alliances
time out and reflection signs of weakness
might makes right the eternal anthem
kindness, sharing, saying you’re sorry
the antitheses of getting one re-elected

before this war, there were wars
before this lie, there were lies
history’s full of unfamiliar faces
telling us lies, sending us to wars
killing youths for old men’s failures

humans are the only ones
who can say we’re sorry
who can reflect in time out
who can change behaviors
be sure of what you stand for

Surma- Surma | Mantri Pragada Markandeyulu - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Surma- Surma | Mantri Pragada Markandeyulu

Yeh! Surma, Yeh! Surma
Look at East, Suffer from Tsunami
North-West, Suffer from Earth Quake
West, Suffer Infighting, South-West from bombarding

Dangers of war like scenario are hovering clouds
Gun fires and bombings are disturbing peace
World is worried, all people are helpless
To maintain peace and harmony, to open a dialogue

Humanity, mankind and peace are the priorities
One has no authority to pollute the environment
Peace and harmony are the priorities of 21st century
Can’t afford to lose, lives and property damages

Where is the point, and what for emanating of war
Peace and tranquility are need of the hour
The whole world lauds and needs discussion on table
People are worried a lot; try avoiding war crime situations

Green Tracks Blazing Away
Glazing Ball Rolling Away
Liking Runs Flowing Home
World is shouting in Laughing Way

Respect and Honor Flowing-in
Money and Awards, Coming-in
Felicitations are Pouring-in
They’re Richey Rich, Ohǃ Surma Surma

Service to Villages is beautiful way
Villages’ look-alike polished way
Business preferring cashless way
Paytm, Atm, Oh! Payment way

More at https://markumantri.wordpress.com/.

Ceasefire | G. Louis Heath - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Ceasefire | G. Louis Heath

Ghosts of the past descend upon
today, machicolating glowing fury

upon the diurnal cavalcade. Beneath
serried corbels in the Jerusalem stone

parapet, humanity in camo queues at
the burning road, makes ready to dance

with fire. Of a sudden, a sanguine bugle
throbs the air: Stand down, ceasefire!

Out of thin air, that is not really so thin,
but is beckoned by the better angels of

our nature, mankind has gathered dire
strength to face down what haunts us.

This Year’s History of the 20th Century | Benjamin Nardolilli - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

This Year’s History of the 20th Century | Benjamin Nardolilli

Maybe it’s 1939 all over again, maybe
it’s 1913, or 1914, just look at the Spratly Islands
or the Balkans, or any old strait,
in today’s world, sea is the new landmass

Maybe it’s 1929, I’m refreshing my page
waiting for the next big dipper in the Dow Jones,
the UK wants to leave the EU and Capital
has to collapse over that, that’s what they tell me

Maybe it’s 1992, if Scotland leaves and Wales
insurrects while Belfast self-destructs,
hell, London might pop itself off the body
politic and leave the United Kingdom for New York

Somebody thinks it’s going to be 1917,
or 1989 with shades of memory for 1789,
people rising up and putting chains aside to smash,
with gulags and guillotines for those with cash

The popular theory is it’s going to be 1933,
those who oppose, are arming to make it 1945
but if we really want to stop it all from repeating,
we need to march like it’s 1964 for jobs and freedom

More at http://mirrorsponge.blogspot.com/.

Patriotism - A Poem by Stan Morrison - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Patriotism – A Poem by Stan Morrison

Herringbone Harry never wanted to carry a gun, not even a toy one, not even for fun. Harry thought these things could hurt. Better run for cover, run home and tell my mother. Forget about “A Soldier’s Story,” and “Paths to Glory.” “Johnny Got His Gun” is the tale for everyone to learn.

The sergeant said, “Take this gun and fire it on anyone on the MGM lot for practice. Here are our orders, read’em. You’re headed for “Iraqi Freedom.” Rumsfeld anointing oil. Let the tanks run over the cradle of civilization, down by the Euphrates. Fighting terrrrrzm, making the world safe for Hell Burton.

Harry’s gig was a total drag. Harry’s gone home in a body bag. The West Point choir sang a poignant hymn, everyone’s spouting tears or opinions. The television crew is grateful for their safe jobs. Oxymorons invade the senses: holy crusade anti-terrorist offensives mission accomplished.

Not responsible for vehicles parked overnight. Not responsible for damage during shipping. Not responsible for items lost or stolen. Not responsible for clothes left over 30 days. Not responsible for what happened to Harry. Not responsible for anything we ever do or say. Amen.

The Selective Service System | R U Outavit - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

The Selective Service System | R U Outavit

The Selective Service System
is a rather curious invention
of noble, but dubious intention.
It is designed, don’t you see,
to protect the citizenry (you and me),
and to safeguard our country’s liberty.
But, I am resigned to wonder, quite naturally,
how sound is the national policy
of depending on anyone who, involuntarily,
is expected to fight and die courageously
for principles of freedom and democracy
which he was forced to surrender unwillingly!
Now, who can understand that,
or agree with the wisdom of a draft –
when people become just numbers in a hat?

Pity Pity Pity | Mantri Pragada Markandeyulu - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Pity Pity Pity | Mantri Pragada Markandeyulu

Pity, Pity, We Feel Sorry

I see East, Each Time Tsunami
View at West, Every Time Quake
I Am Against War and Bomb

Pity, Pity, Pity, We Are Worried

I Appeal Rulers, To Get People Peace
Don’t Go For War, People Loose Life

Pity, Pity, Pity, No War, No War

No, No, No, War Crimes No
Yes, Yes, Yes, Peace Accord Best

Pity, Pity, Pity, We are Afraid

I and You Feel, Need of the Hour
Food and Shelter, Foremost Talk

Pity, Pity, Pity, Children are Pretty

Adopt, Adopt, We will Adopt Village
Develop and Develop, Village People Develop.

Pity, Pity, Pity, Villages Are Pretty

Each is Great, Who Work for Peace
Great and Great, Mankind is Great.

Pity, Pity, Pity, We are all Pretty

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,
Ku, Ku, Koo

Happy and Happy, Everybody be Happy
Pity, Pity, Pity, We be Pretty

More at https://markumantri.wordpress.com/.

Omaha Beach June 2006 - A Poem by Roy Pullam - Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Omaha Beach June 2006 – A Poem by Roy Pullam

The tides have taken the beaches back
Lonely pillboxes on the hill
Crosses and memorials
Beyond the rise
Bear witness
To that Omaha beach day
The silence of the morning
The whisper of the tide
The bark of the gulls
Interrupting the reverence
Of the June morning
In the distance
Children wade the surf
Their eyes directed down
To catch the sight
Of aquatic life
How somehow I expected
A freeze frame
The gravity of the carnage
Too strong for change
But life goes on
The old man
Bent on his cane
Looking across the horizon
As if to see once again
Comrades at arms
The boys following
The ebb of the water
With the events
So far back in history
That it has no meaning
Life goes on
With the old man
Stranded on an island
Of sad memories

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