Uncle Sam is the nameless, faceless plutocrats who rule the world/They are never held accountable/They don’t lobby/They don’t campaign

No one leaves home unless/home is the mouth of a shark/you only run for the border/when you see the whole city running as well

Those at the top say: / Peace and War Are of different substance. / But their peace and their war / Are like wind and storm.

The empire wants to be God on Earth with dominion over all, except–its scriptures were written in hell by the Devil himself.

I say this to the peacemakers. … To those who’ve shone the light of truth upon the blood-spattered face of the empire.

All nature wear one angry frown/To crush you out – still know, my soul/You are Divine. March on and on/Nor right nor left but to the goal.

We hope to bring peace into our hearts for today and for tomorrow to carry us all forward deep into all of eternity.

‘Tis a fearful thing to love what death can touch. A fearful thing to love, to hope, to dream, to be –to be, And oh, to lose.

The deer did not stop running, leopards climbed into trees that could not hide them, the douc langur and the white cheeked gibbon cursed.

This is the field where the battle did not happen, where the unknown soldier did not die.

Do not show me a young rebel, whose eyes are bright and whose tail is bushy. Young rebels are fine and good, but they are...

I lived in the first century of world wars. Most mornings I would be more or less insane, The newspapers would arrive with...

Emerging from their war -- a time and a place where strangers wanted him dead and his elders preferred him dancing on a string...

Well, as Kavanagh said, we have lived In important places. The lonely scarp Of St Columb’s College, where I billeted For six...

An owl winks in the shadows A lizard lifts on tiptoe, breathing hard Young male sparrow stretches up his neck, big head,...

I am the source of Americas’ Wars. Before and beyond, The Great War all the way to Afghanistan …  I am Raytheon, Boeing, Lockheed-Martin.

Listen, no one signed up for this lullaby. No bleeped sheep or rosebuds or twitching stars will diminish the fear or save you...

“To defend our beloved Cuba.” The closing line of this poem from the great Chilean communist and surrealist writer Pablo...

I have decided (I think) that my mind has become a series of walk-in closets. You know, the kind with a full length mirror on...

The sea is calm to-night, The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the French coast the light Gleams and is...

for Greg Greger I Where were the neighbors? Out of town? In my pajamas, I sat at my father's feet in front of their squat,...

I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do...

for Phuc Luu Nobody could sleep.--Norman Mailer Among them we are the lucky...strangest word.--George Oppen Sleep is like...

Before I begin this poem, I’d like to ask you to join me in a moment of silence in honor of those who died in the World Trade...

A voice from the dark called out, ‘The poets must give us imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar imagination of...

Our Asian war is over; others have begun. Our elders, who tried to mortgage lies, are disgraced, or dead, and already the...

In D.C. to Recite Cowboy Poems for a Show Titled Poets, Politicians, & Other Storytellers, I Visit the Vietnam Veterans’...

By the time the button factory depleted all the fresh water mussel shells from three rivers and was about to shut down, the...

The fire is coming on red horses with gold manes, you can hear them eating the plain. The swollen rivers tumble burning houses...

Last night I watched the 2013 documentary film "The Man Who Saved The World” The man’s name is Stanislav Petrov. The year...

How magnificent the war is! How eager and efficient! Early in the morning it wakes up the sirens and dispatches ambulances to...

When at last the guns were silent, In the graves where children lay The crying passed away, And the dead had stopped their...

A woman’s going to send the drones So ready the covers of your Vogues The food bank lines are now miles long But a woman’s the...

“I’m two with nature”—Woody Allen We fled Woody and the cities in the tie-dyed seventies headed back to the land, man, and fed...

They said I wasn’t smooth enough to beat their sharp machine. That my style was obsolete, that old rags had lost their gleam...

(After Khalil Gibran) 2007 Pity the nation whose people are sheepAnd whose shepherds mislead them Pity the nation whose...

Native American poet John Trudell describes a 1981 protest against nuclear power plant construction in which 1,900 activists were arrested.

The eagle, rather than an imperious symbol of American exceptionalism, is actually a cleansing force that can lead us into peace and beauty.

Poet Carolyn Forche provides a scintillating portrait of one of the many tin-hat despots, products of U.S. militarism and weapons exports.

2017 Heroes’ Voices National Veterans Poetry Contest prize-winning poem about veteran suicide by World War II veteran Jay Wenk.

In this poem, Vietnamese poet Teresa Mei Chuc brings us a voice often muted in America—the young refugee’s.

Poem by Vietnam War veteran W. D. Ehrhart, reprinted from his book Thank You For Your Service: Collected Poems.