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GENESIS
Every time I see a doveI look twice to seeif by chance it has an olive branch,actually any branch, claspedin its claws, for that would meanthe storm of the last years,the wars, the abject poverty,the amassing of wealthfor its own sake at the neverending expense of others,was coming to an end,that the peace we all…
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A BRAVE NEW WORLD
It is now easy to imagine a worldwhere dystopia lies in waitingaround every corner, always outof sight, always ready to pounce.Now imagine a world, this worldif in 1492 it was a woman whodiscovered this land, and womenwho made all of the decisions.Men could still go to war, but onlyif women decided the war was warranted.It…
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WHENCE
When you ask me from wheremy family comes, do notlook surprised when I answerthat it depends on the directionof the wind, but with natureas no more than a passive observer.In my case it is the fickle windsof war and diplomacy that markmy origins, my maternal rootsdeeply planted in soil Lithuanian orperhaps Russian or briefly Polish.And…
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AND EVERYWHERE
Where was my family from?Russia and Poland, mostlyby way of England and Austria,within nervous stop at Ellis Islandjust before the great warchanged everything for all time.Actually not. Not mostly Polandor Russia, the war not a changeof anything really, at mosta precursor of a greater war.You, too, questioner, may be dead nowspeaking from a plot in…
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AND TO YOU WE LEAVE . . .
Of course we did not heedthe warnings, what did they know,and anyway we were sure we had won. History is a poor teacher, thatmuch we have demonstrated againand yet again, lessons never learned. It is how we got here, how wehave no clear path to leave here,things assumed lying in ruin around us. We are…
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VICTOR
In our timeof never-ending war,punctured by the briefestlulls we now call peace,someone, someonesmore likely, will talkabout whom will bethe victor, to whomshall go the spoils.Bierce, that perpetualcynic, reminded usthat peace was a periodof cheating betweentwo periods of fighting.But no one pausesto consider thatin any war there areno true victorsonly the victimsunwillingly offered upin sacrifice to…
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WE FIND OURSELVES
We are wholly innocentwe are wracked with guilt.There is nothing we did,but what is there that wedid not do, that we should have done, that wemight have said so it wouldnever have happened, orhappened less, or happeneddespite everything we did? We carry our innocenceas a badge, we wear our guiltas an albatross around our neck,dragging…
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AND PEACE?
Santayana said, “Only the deadhave seen the end of the war.”We have grown adept at wars,no longer global in scope, butubiquitous in frequency. Mine was fought in the ricepaddies of Vietnam, and on thecampus where we struggledvaliantly and vainly to protest,and when that failed, in the heatof Texas, marching about, goingthankfully nowhere, shippedto Niagara Falls…
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LACKLAND
They marched us to the middleof nowhere, sweat running downour backs, our olive drab uniformsnow three shades darker. They handed us a rifle, an M-16they told us in class, with a 5.56round, it would tumble afterit hit its target, good for killing. We lay on the ground, shoulderedthe weapon, aimed it at thetarget, a bottomless…
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APPROACHING NIGHT
Arising into nightthe departing suntangos away with its cloud,memories soon forgotten. Other dancers take the stage,now a romance, nowa war dance, feathers raisedin prayer to unseen gods. Night will soon bringits curtain across this stage,the avian casts’ final bows takenthe theater will darken, awaitinganother performance,a new script tomorrow,but for this solitary momentof frozen grace, it…
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an old writer and his words 