Anti-War Poems

by James W. Harris

In Control
 
Smart bombs
Stupid citizens.
The government 
Creates them both
And guides them
Carefully
To its chosen
Targets.

____________________________

Hardly My Responsibility At All
 
Today I paid
my income taxes,
a portion of which
will go for
war.

Not much, really,
just a few bucks,
barely enough to buy
a single bullet
for a 
pregnant 
peasant’s
belly. 

____________________________

After September 11, 2001
 
Those who would give up
essential liberty
for temporary security
are
almost
everybody. 

(Published at Poets Against War:
http://www.poetsagainstthewar.org )

____________________________

We Came to Free Them

We bombed them
to bits
and now 
they are
free,
free,
as 
free
as
dust
and 
ashes. 

(Published at Poets Against War:
http://www.poetsagainstthewar.org )

____________________________

Norman Morrison Was His Name
 
Remember that guy
who set himself on fire
in 1965 
in front of
the Pentagon
to protest the
Vietnam War?
 
He was a Quaker,
he had three children,
and he gave 
one-year-old 
Emily
a final hug 
before
dousing himself
with gasoline
and lighting 
a match.
 
He screamed as he
burned
and most everyone figured 
he was crazy
because, after all,
sane people
burn other people –
as the relentlessly sane Pentagon
was doing day after day –
not themselves.
And especially not where other
good decent American citizens and taxpayers
can see you
and thus have to face
the painful and disturbing
chore of 
thinking. 
 
Norman Morrison
was criminally impolite. 
He burst into flame
in the orderly living rooms
of middle America
  
and told the plain truth
about what their
husbands
boyfriends
sons
tax dollars
were doing
away from
home. 
 
Norman Morrison 
said the unspeakable
with
gasoline.

(Published at Poets Against War:
http://www.poetsagainstthewar.org )

____________________________

Suddenly This Great Insight

They think they are 
Safe
Secure
Free
As they rest
So warm,
Well-fed,
So comfortable,
Anaesthetized
In the womb of 
The State.

Until one day
They 
Or their lover
Or their children
are plucked up
And dropped into 
War.

And suddenly
Some have
This great 
Insight
About the 
True relationship
Between them
And
The State.

But then,
Of course,
It is 
Far
Far
Too 
Late

More poems by James W. Harris