Poets’ Corner

This is what passes for foreign policy. This is what our taxes are buying. This is what the world sees of us.

Rob Mulford is a 73-year-old poet, Air Force veteran and former underground coal miner known for his anti-war activism for peace and justice.

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...