voices for peace/

There are a few versions of this verse. Which do you prefer?

This first one, rendered in calligraphy by John Stevens, is about 28 inches long and 5 inches high. Quite stunning. It hangs on the wall (of my living room), over doorways; even as part of Christmas decoration and has been used by counselors for conflict resolution and for marriage counselling. I have them in stock and they are only available directly from me. Send queries through the Contact page or by email to poetkevinjtaylor@gmail.com

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When I am done with being right
And you are done with being wronged

Perhaps then we can speak of something small and bright
That we can both agree upon.

This lovely piece of calligraphy is from the hand of Catharine Hoffmaster. Its full size is about 20 inches by 8 inches. It hangs in my kitchen.

…………………………………………

When I am (or you are or we are) done with being right
And you are (or we are or I am) done with being wronged

Perhaps then we can speak of something small and bright
That we can both agree upon.

 

First version published in: “Letter to the White Imbongi” 2013 as “Two Beats of Silence” : “Poems for Relationships” 2017: “3201 e’s” 2018.
The following calligraphy was done by curry72501 at fiverr.com

Do not the mothers and the fathers of Gaza love their daughters,
love their sons, love the children as ye love?

Do not the mothers and the fathers of Israel love their daughters,
love their sons, love the children as ye love?

Do not all children love their mothers, love their fathers, love their sisters,
love their brothers, love their homes if they still have them—

Love them just as ye have loved?

:

“The lone and level sands stretch far away.” Ozymandias, Shelley.

.

Ah… And there it is, my friend— “A disembodied thought,”
Found, we’re told, under a soldier’s boot,
Though some have said it is not a thinkingness
But a yearning for the life that held it.

And there, just there, a bit of quartz
As white as cataracts.
As final rays of sunlight, caught and held:
Black clouds boil across the afternoon sky
Eclipse the sun and day falls into night.

Or so a lone survivor told.
But she was blind, it’s said.
She lived another day or two
The legend goes, to say who won.

Though who would care, I wonder?
Surely not the dead.

But we, yet living, release the past to where
All pasts must dwell, recover hope, however faint,
Rekindle life, wherever present, harken to the desert
winds, their voices—those of Allah, HaShem, Jesus,
L. Ron Hubbard, and others.

And having listened, having formed our own thoughts,
Consulted with prayer and vision,
Rejoice, rejoin, reclaim our own lives.
Today, we are returned.
Today we are alive— and come and go in peace.

.

For clarity, the expression, HaShem, meaning “the Name”, is used in Judaism to refer to God when not in prayer.

Let me rest among these giant souls that stand
where trees once stood.

Here, greens break into blacky-blues and dragonflies
and dusts of beetle dung grow old withal.

Let me rest among the salmonberry and the tumblewood
of cotton, ash and hemlock, fir and cedar.

And let the wind stir of pine above the fall reawaken me
in early greens and sapling dress, anon.

 

This poem is an allegory. Published in: “souls arriving” 2006 as title “Tumblewood”: “Between Music and Dance” 2013: “Letter to the White Imbongi” 2013: “The Footprint Press” 2014: “3201 e’s” 2018.

If a man whispers peace in a field for the dead
will he be heard or will it be said
that the voice of one man is a lie?

If a man calls out peace from a box in a park
will he be heard or as one in the dark
with the ravings of lost minds and lives?

If a man cries for peace and names Allah or Christ
will he be heard or were they sacrificed
under flag? under bomb? under fire?

If a man offers peace with peace in his heart
will he be heard? Is that how it starts?
Voices joined and rejoined and with peace in each heart—

If we fail, my dear friends, who will live?
      The War-Men have no peace to give.

 

Published in: “souls arriving” 2006: as version “If…”

Take away the sun above
      Take away the sun above
And burn the air we breathe
      Burn the air we breathe
Take away the moon and stars
      The moon, the stars
And everything believed
      Everything believed
Take away the green of life—
      Take, take, take
The blue-green seas below
      The blue-green seas below
And take the glow that lives in them
      Take the glow that lives in them
And everything unknown
      Everything unknown
Take the candle. Take the verse
      Take the candle. Take the verse
Take art. And take the artist’s words
      The artist’s touch. The artist’s words
Take each thing— its form, its name
     Destroy its form, mock its name
Take everything. What’s left to say?
      Everything. Everything again.
One thing’s for sure— We have survived
      And here we are. We carry on
One thing’s for sure— We will survive!
      We have gone on and left this song behind (us)

 

Original version published in: “souls arriving” 2006.

WAR is NOT a spiritual preference (except to the insane)
WAR is NOT a spiritual orientation (except to the Merchant of Chaos)
WAR is NOT a spiritual experience (except to those who die)

open our eyes together and we will dream
open our fists today and we will build
open our doors tonight and we will sing
open our eyes/fists/doors

or (close our eyes and never mind
(close our fists and build collateral damage
(close our doors and scream

oh no
open our eyes/fists/doors

send our prayers to the front lines
send our light to the front lines
send our truth to the front lines
send us

and we will build for beauty
and for freedom
and for love

send us  

Published in: “souls arriving” 2006: “3201 e’s” 2018

I remember. I remember
The flying leaves and floating leaves
Blazing yellow-orange-red

Until, wind-felled, their final embers
I remember to this day
This wet-wool gray, this end of day

Paris that November  

Paris attacks, 13 November 2015.
Published in: “3201 e’s” 2018

Let us say that we have loved
and though good women,
though good men,
admit the hatreds too.

And looking, just by looking,
find that love may be
the greater of the pair
and love, the bed upon which
hate must heal.

Let us say then, let us pray, that we shall love and love again.

 

Published in: “Poems for Relationships” 2017 (earlier version): “3201 e’s” 2018

Yes, segregate.
Create a slum for me.
Build walls.
Render us apart.
Hide.

 

The New Apartheid appears in full in Walling In and Walling Out: Why Are We Building New Barriers to Divide Us? by Laura McAtackney (Editor), Randall H. McGuire (Editor), as the epigraph for Chapter 11, Conclusion. Available on Amazon. The Introduction’s epigraph is a quote from Mending Wall (from which a line provides the book title), a poem by Robert Frost. Randall McGuire wrote, “I want to thank you for capturing in 13 words what we struggled to say in 100s of pages of academic prose.”

Also published in: “souls arriving” 2006 as Apartheid: “3201 e’s” 2018

Begin with faith
Beyond belief
Faith is

Begin with hope
Hope is the point
Rekindle hope

Begin with love
With love alone
And love for all 

Peace
Is not withdrawal
Peace is the surge
The urge
Peace is arising
Swelling
It’s an overflowing
Swing of
Upturning
Turned-up rhythm
Peace is resurgence
Peace is expression
In and of
Common Purpose
Cresting waves
Of purpose
Aligned
Upon a new dynamic line
Peace is
Not withdrawal from life
Peace is not placid
Not flaccid
Peace is active
Busy
Peace is believed
Conceived
Crafted
Peace is for
And not against
Peace just is
See?
And you are its source
And I am its source
And we are its source
Reaching
Reaching from and for and to
Every searching soul
Peace is strength
Of integrity
Peace is faith
In living

Peace is yours
Mine
Ours

Peace is ready now