An Offering

Policeman’s helmet shining

in the presence of sun’s light.

Peaceful people walking

for peace their only fight.

His son born today,

their first day on the move,

he couldn’t stand alone,

somehow had to join the son’s future.

Slowly the inspiration

a white feather given.

One marcher accepted

in the son’s name, for living.

Across the country to be carried

across the vast spectrum of hope.

It will drift on, enliven, and inspire

because the dream for world peace

is man’s soulful prairie fire.

BR 41

Love is the Answer

Love is the Answer

Love is the Key

Love is the Reason

Love sets us Free

Love is the Way

Love is the Path

Love clears the Mind

And lets troubles pass

BB 33

I’m on the Boat of Loneliness

I’m on the boat of loneliness

floating down the river of life

hoping to run into the sandbar of love.

Jay

 

The Cosmic Sound of Love

(dedicated to Marchers and Supporters)

The universe is singing

A cosmic melody

It’s heralding a brand new age

Of pure divinity

It’s recruiting all the soloists

That came to chant its song

To harmonize in unison

A tune yearned for so long

Some may join the rhythm

Or refuse to hum a note

This chorus is most special

It’s “The Sound of Love” God wrote

When you feel the music

And your voice is heard

You’ll know that you’ve been chosen

To carry forth the word

And you’ll radiate perfection

With service to humankind

You’ll be your soul’s reflection

By the power of your mind.

Freda Amsel

I’m Never Alone

I’m never alone now

I can face every day

You’re walking beside me

And lighting the way

You’re with me each moment

In my thought and my prayer

I’m learning to love, discovering faith,

Becoming aware

I’m never alone now

I have you by my side

To comfort and listen

To the secrets I hide

You taught me forgiveness

And you washed away pain

I’ve opened my heart, exploring my mind,

I’m living again.

You filled me with love

And showed me the way

You guided each step

Like a lamb gone astray

 

You helped me believe

To trust and let go

The peace that I found

Is within, now I know…

 

I can face all tomorrows

With its joys and its tears

I can meet all its sorrows

Without any fears

For I have you beside me

To lighten the way

I’m never alone, my heart and my soul

Are yours every day.

Freda Amsel

Dark Colors

Dark colors

Blacks, blues,

Murky night

Clear wind without color

Blows through

My hair and

My mind.

Air, smelling

Sweet with

Warmth

Silhouettes of

Trees

Against the sky

Two, three, four shades

Lighter

Unsubstantial

Emotions touch me,

As life returns

After snow.

An Unknown Marcher

 

Insects

i’d forgotten about

ants (that don’t bite)

and

ladybugs

and gnats and mosquitos …

has it been just the

winter blocking my

memory

or

was it many years ago

I last was so aware.

 

Horseflies and bees instead

of cockroaches, and

the sun

and the earth and

the water

and the thorns

    --not thumbtacks—

in the grass

(so much cooler than

carpet).

Julie Brogan   Note:  Several of Julie’s poems from the original anthology got lost along the way.  We’re very sorry

Once the grass young in the grain

Shooting an arrow of sun

Into that cave

Spring comes again

Fresh green in fields of vision

The insatiable spirit of life

Bright as the phoenix rise –

Twice.

Catherine BY35

Walk – March 22 ’86

I lie upon the ground, digging the goods of this earth.  Were I as the sparrow that hunts the limburger, my thoughts now would be worms after the rain.  For packs of bloodthirsty wild desert dogs will not terrorize me to a desire for carrying knives and guns.

I am a member of a new society, bonded by accident but united by the same ancient dreams.  For long I have slept under the drunken weeping willow, staggering past artificial light in the belligerent noon rays of the emerging American night. 

Here, we are all creators with varied skills, making the outhouses clean, the vans and trucks oiled, and the salads dressed for the Big Travelling Shoe. 

Ed Sullivan’s ghost haunts us in the megaphone morning, while rainbows of tents float, ballooning our happy happy world.  These are my patriotic flags that represent all creatures.

I am awakening here among mushy crowds of kind huggers.  Why?  Because the American people love us as I’ve never seen before, as though the poor Prince of Peace were among us. We are blessed with gifts of great home cooking, cheers, smiles, joyous songs, buses, vans, and elbow grease. 

Andrew Mayer


St. George, Utah, and the Dragon

Through the land of the latter-day saints

Blows a latter-day stigmata

The blood on the lintel post

Speaks strontium—

Job curses God, and dies.

The mote in your own eye

Is metaphor no more.

It blossoms forth in swollen flesh

And lies.

 

Cassandra voices in the mind

From twenty years ago

Re-echoing the new Cassandra voices:

The answer is not blowing in the wind—

The question is.

 

The answer is walking in the wind.

Tom Benner

The Ice Cream Man Carries a Bugle

Come over children,

hear the call.

Line up your strength

given from Mom.

More and more

war after war,

comforts we receive

for their battles of greed.

The final song we hear

a lone bugler’s tape

instead of peaceful chimes

for all brothers dear.

A sad price to pay

for false just-desserts. 

Isn’t it time, children,

for the dream to be real?

Aren’t children worth

the last possible hope

to gain one whole earth?

Here he comes again,

laden with power-filled vanities

and all sorts of misconstrued sanities.

So, hide and seek, hide and seek

maybe this one around

our procession will end,

and the kingdom of life

shall be inherited for love and peace. 

BR 41

The Heart of a City

Hiroshima screams

A nation falls

Eighty-thousand dreams

Freedom crawls

 

Weak, diluted spots of sun

struggle to pierce

the thick morning haze

which clings to the mountain’s jagged crest

and moves slowly, snake-like

along its face

Castles are razed,

Gardens reek of the dead—

The urgent mother’s hell;

A bell tolls twice

For those who bled—

The living await their knell.

OG69

Peace Is A Wave

(A pre-march song)

The nuclear bombs are waiting, to make our whole world dead

It could happen any day, it could happen any day

All our lives are dangling, by such a slender thread

It could happen any day, it could happen any day

Nothing can protect us, there’s nowhere to hide

They can’t be used for defense, but only genocide

We can’t comprehend it, no matter what we’ve read

It could happen any day, it could happen any day

But there’s a way to change it

We’re marching for peace

Five thousand people

We’re marching for peace

Across the USA, shouting

Take those missiles down

Take those missiles down

Peace is a wave, my brothers

Throw yourself into the surf

Peace is a wave, my sisters

Ask yourself what life is worth

Plunge right in and the ripples spread, out across the world

The great Peace March is coming

Don’t let Peace be just a word

Peace is a wave that’s gentle

Calming fears and soothing nerves

Peace is a wave that’s pounding

No one on earth can stop the surge

Let it wash you clean and lift you up, and drive it on with your heart

The Great Peace March is coming

Don’t let peace be just a word

A nuclear war could start from one faulty radar screen

It could happen any day, it could happen any day

Or one or many conflicts, where great powers intervene

It could happen any day, it could happen any day

We sacrifice our freedom, and our economy

Health and education, to worship towers of steel

Greedy people getting rich by building death machines

It is happening every day, It is happening every day

But we’re not gonna take it

We’re marching for peace

Five thousand people

We’re marching for peace

Across the USA, shouting

Take those missiles down

Take those missiles down

Peace is a wave, my brothers

Throw yourself into the surf

Peace is a wave, my sisters

Ask yourself what life is worth

Plunge right in and the ripples spread, out across the world

The great Peace March is coming

Don’t let Peace be just a word

Peace is a wave across America

Jump upon your walking shoes

Peace is a wave of people

launch yourself, it’s time to choose

Paddle hard and we’ll ride far, make the dream come true

The great peace march is coming

Peace begins with me and you

Dennis Heinrich ã 1986

Dreams

It was the grey dream again.  Everything in the world was grey and gritty, bleak and hopeless.  Huddled in a tattered grey blanket, she crouched in a cellar. Outside she could hear rustlings and scutterings, scraps and flaps of cardboard tossed like victims by the howling wind.

She felt tears on her cheek.  Useless tears.  Except, they could wake her.  Help her climb the layers of dreams into reality.  She could stop living this nightmare of bleak greyness and howling cold.  Wake up, turn on the light, and go out to the kitchen for a glass of milk.

She could almost taste the milk.  Cool and fresh.  Sweetness sliding down her throat.  And while she was at the refrigerator, take out the tub of butter.  Carry it over to the cupboard. In the wooden rollup breadbox, find a crusty roll.  Favorite blue plate, the blue of lakes and asters, and the neat little butter knife.

Perch on a stool at the white-painted kitchen table, hugging her knees and rocking herself awake. Sip the cool milk.  Bite the crusty bread.  Feel the sweet slipperiness of the butter on her teeth. Picnic food.  She could plan a picnic for tomorrow.

They’d go out to the lake, take cold chicken in a basket; fruit—all the wonderful fresh fruits of summer—peaches, grapes, and melon.  Maybe the berries would be ripe.  Take picking baskets.

The best berries they wouldn’t even put in the baskets.  The perfectly ripe ones, dark and sweet, would fall apart in their fingers. So cram them sweetly, stickily, into their mouths and laugh at the dark red stains.

Who would she invite on her picnic?  It was late.  Too late to call anyone. 

Tears.  Tears again.  So climb the layers of sleep into reality, and turn on the light….

But there is no light. Only this tattered grey blanket. Scraps of cardboard rustling, tossed on the gritty wind.  And tears.

She tastes them, salty on her cheek. 

Sue Guist

September 15, 1985

Yesterday, the Egret

Standing in her reflection

Took one measured step,

Paused,

Considered the effect,

Took another step.

Ripples widened,

Reflection stilled.

She waited,

Watched,

Teaching me

The Journey.

Sue Guist

Soldiers Without Guns

oh look down upon us

we’re in our final

days

we can hardly see the

danger through all

the smoke and haze.

we’re knee deep in the

sorrow of those who

lost their friends.

it’s gone on for so many

years but now it’s gonna end.

 

Chorus:

 we’re soldiers without guns

we’re marching to make our

peace in the rising sun.

Throw your hatred

down, to save the fertile

ground

cause when the first one hits

there’s nowhere we can run.

we’re soldiers without guns

we’re marching to the beat

of a different drum

so give us another

song and the strength to

carry on and we may

save this world for your

father and your son.

 

five years ago I

roamed the shore of

a timeless beach   the

endless blue water

seemed barely out of reach

I sat down in the sands

of that crystal shore

I said mother how

could we lose all this

to some old pointless war?

 

Chorus

 

now you know just

why we try to reach

the leaders so numb

we’re not gonna let them

drag us down to

where they’re coming

from.

 

there’s a girl by a Nam

memorial

weeping for her friend

I’d like to be the one

to tell her you’re

never gonna cry

again.

 

Chorus

Brian Orvik