Poets’ Corner
Ballad of the Village Vigilers
We hope to bring peace into our hearts for today and for tomorrow to carry us all forward deep into all of eternity.
To Love What Death Can Touch
‘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 Decade the Rainforest Died
The deer did not stop running, leopards climbed into trees that could not hide them, the douc langur and the white cheeked gibbon cursed.
At the Un-National Monument Along the Canadian Border
This is the field where the battle did not happen, where the unknown soldier did not die.
Future Generations, If There Are Future Generations
Tonika Todorova’s powerful video featuring Caitlin Johnstone’s haunting poem of desperation about our times and hope for the future.
Show Me an Old Rebel
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...
Poem (I lived in the first century of world wars)
I lived in the first century of world wars. Most mornings I would be more or less insane, The newspapers would arrive with...
Portrait of a Young G.I. as an Artist
Emerging from their war -- a time and a place where strangers wanted him dead and his elders preferred him dancing on a string...
The Ministry of Fear
Well, as Kavanagh said, we have lived In important places. The lonely scarp Of St Columb’s College, where I billeted For six...
Mother Earth: Her Whales
An owl winks in the shadows A lizard lifts on tiptoe, breathing hard Young male sparrow stretches up his neck, big head,...
The Source of America’s Wars
I am the source of Americas’ Wars. Before and beyond, The Great War all the way to Afghanistan … I am Raytheon, Boeing, Lockheed-Martin.
Incantation of the First Order
Listen, no one signed up for this lullaby. No bleeped sheep or rosebuds or twitching stars will diminish the fear or save you...
Poem for Fidel Castro (Song of Protest)
“To defend our beloved Cuba.” The closing line of this poem from the great Chilean communist and surrealist writer Pablo...
Mirrors
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...
Dover Beach
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...
The War After the War
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,...
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
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...
Hots, Pony, and Three F N G’s
for Phuc Luu Nobody could sleep.--Norman Mailer Among them we are the lucky...strangest word.--George Oppen Sleep is like...
A Moment of Silence
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...
Making Peace
A voice from the dark called out, ‘The poets must give us imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar imagination of...
In Celebration of Spring
Our Asian war is over; others have begun. Our elders, who tried to mortgage lies, are disgraced, or dead, and already the...
Cowboy Poetry
In D.C. to Recite Cowboy Poems for a Show Titled Poets, Politicians, & Other Storytellers, I Visit the Vietnam Veterans’...
History of the Button Factory
By the time the button factory depleted all the fresh water mussel shells from three rivers and was about to shut down, the...
Elementals
The fire is coming on red horses with gold manes, you can hear them eating the plain. The swollen rivers tumble burning houses...
The Man Who Saved the World
Last night I watched the 2013 documentary film "The Man Who Saved The World” The man’s name is Stanislav Petrov. The year...
The War Works Hard
How magnificent the war is! How eager and efficient! Early in the morning it wakes up the sirens and dispatches ambulances to...
Korean Lullaby
When at last the guns were silent, In the graves where children lay The crying passed away, And the dead had stopped their...
Nature Bats Last
“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...
Blind Boone’s Pianola Blues
They said I wasn’t smooth enough to beat their sharp machine. That my style was obsolete, that old rags had lost their gleam...
Pity the Nation
(After Khalil Gibran) 2007 Pity the nation whose people are sheepAnd whose shepherds mislead them Pity the nation whose...
Diablo Canyon
Native American poet John Trudell describes a 1981 protest against nuclear power plant construction in which 1,900 activists were arrested.
Eagle Poem
The eagle, rather than an imperious symbol of American exceptionalism, is actually a cleansing force that can lead us into peace and beauty.