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Seattle Participants

Nancy Peacock

DIALOGUE AMONG CIVILIZATIONS THROUGH POETRY WEEK

in Seattle, WA.      
Monday 18 March 2002
Seattle Public Library, University Branch
hosted by
In conjuction with:




DIALOGUE AMONG CIVILIZATIONS THROUGH POETRY
BACK IN HUE CITY

We fought along the Perfume River.
Now sit across a meeting room in Hue.
The air is tinged with darkness.
We see each others¹ tell-tale signs.

Now sit across a meeting room in Hue.
Our weary memories feel lighter.
We see each others¹ tell-tale signs.
We know each others¹ story.

Our weary memories feel lighter.
The air seems warm and heartfelt
We know each others¹ story.
We were once young and blinded.

The air seems warm and heartfelt.
Our connection feels strong and natural.
We were once young and blinded.
After years of smokey darkness,

our connection feels strong and natural.
We are the same as brothers.
After years of smokey darkness,
we want to stand closer.

We are the same as brothers.
We know we¹re just suvivors.
We want to stand closer.
We hug and weep and smile.

We know we¹re just survivors         
who know each others¹ story            
We hug and weep and smile,                 
and sweep away the darkness.   
             - John Immel Akins


DIALOGUE AMONG CIVILIZATIONS THROUGH POETRY WEEK

in Seattle, WA.      
Monday 18 March 2002
Seattle Public Library, University Branch
hosted by
In conjuction with:




THE CAR WINDOWS ARE DRIVING


Trees pass in a blur.
I press my face upward
tasting the wind,
inhaling the golden cells of leaves.

The car follows the road
and I follow my instructions to roam
the folded fields, the shaken, green,
and graven places disappearing,

to watch the stalks of dry grass,
steady as the grain of weathered crosses.
I touch my body, green and alive.
The car, the sky, the wind and I are driving.
                                          -Darby Ringer

Seattle Participants

Nancy Peacock

NO MAS
                                   
I will not fight anymore
No more hand to hand, bayonet thrusts or rifle smashes
I've wiped the blood out of those young eyes, again and again.
No more armored cavalry, personnel carriers or parachute drops
I've wasted gooks, unknowns and friends, again and again.
No more missiles, launched grenades or machine guns.
I'm wounded, inside, tears fall like dew off of wildflowers on a spring morning.
No mas.
I walk onto the field of battle, naked, blinded by crushed dreams, arms empty
Raised in surrender, raised in hope, raised in peace, raised in victory
Kill me if you think you can, you can break my body, my woman's heart but
My spirit is now in the hands of love, where I am truly safe.
I will not fight anymore.
                                                                    - Garylee Johnson