|
The Legal Studies Forum
Volume 30, Number 1/2 (2006) reprinted by permission Legal Studies Forum Lawyers & Poets A World Ever So Mad DAVID KRIEGER _______________________ War is at best barbarism . . . . Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have never fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, more vengeance, more desolation. War is hell. - General William Tecumseh Sherman Strike against war, for without you no battles can be fought! Strike against manufacturing shrapnel and gas bombs and all other tools of murder! Strike against preparedness that means death and misery to millions of human beings! Be not dumb, obedient slaves in an army of destruction! Be heroes in an army of construction! - Helen Keller Here then, is the problem which we present to you, stark and dreadful and inescapable: Shall we put an end to the human race; or shall mankind renounce war? - Russell Einstein Manifesto, 1955 Spring Morning Last night dark clocks sprung ahead and now I lie in bed listening to the crow of cocks the clucking of hens the call of small birds the ring of shots from far off wars. Oak leaves stir. I watch the play of light in a prism. Women in dark shawls pray lava flows young men sink in sweet earth. [490]
Poet from Another Planet - for Robert Bly You came from another planet one that is bone dry with more energy than mere earthlings. Your imagination was primitive and boundless. You hung a long red serape with black designs over your shoulders. It swirled as you danced and chanted, danced and chanted. Your words made no sense but you uttered them with such conviction and danced with such awkward grace that we were enchanted by your truths, whatever they were, and were ready to follow you anywhere, even to distant stars- the ones that can barely be seen in the clear night sky, the ones whose light takes a million years to reach us, the ones that may have died long ago, scattering their remains throughout the universe. We were young but that does not explain it all. You gave us the gift of freshness and we embraced you like tired, thirsty wanderers, welcomed home at last. [491]
Looking Back on September 11th Each rising of the sun begins a day of awe, destined to bring shock to those who can be shocked. This day began in sunlight and, like other days, soon fell beneath death's shadow. The darkness crossed Manhattan and the globe, the crashing planes, tall towers bursting into flame. The hurtling steel into steel and glass endlessly played on the nightly news until imprinted on our brains. People lurching from the burning towers, plunging like shot geese to the startled earth beneath. But such death is not extraordinary in our world of grief, born anew each brief and sunlit day. White flowers grow from bloodstained streets and rain falls gently, gently in defiance, not defeat. [492]
All of This We have made words into dangerous weapons, lived in darkness and slowly emerged. We have found shadows where none were lost and hunted wisdom, always tracking upwind. We have sought beauty to fill empty spaces, seen our reflections in a thousand rivers. We have hinged the sky and swung it open. In a moment's dream we have done all this. [493]
July 16, 1945 The Nuclear Age was born on the broad plains of America, a land of civility and arrogance. Born of fire dream and childish exuberance. Its mother was fear; its father, genius. When the mushroom cloud rose in the sky Hitler was already dead, the war in Europe ended. Still, the scientists who watched cheered like schoolboys. The victory was theirs. They had exploded matter and imploded intellect. Soon Hiroshima, soon Nagasaki. Soon the Great Potlatch. [494]
Hiroshima, August 6, 1945 It was a clear sky. The air tingled with heat and promise, that morning in Hiroshima as men and women set off for work and children kissed their mothers goodbye. As the bomb drifted toward earth city people walked with small steps along narrow roads across graceful bridges not knowing they were on their way to oblivion. The shadow of the bomb slipped away from time, escaping the roar and blast and cruel heat that stopped the city. In the turmoil of the bomb the people-yes, the people- of Hiroshima were swirled as in a witch's cauldron. They sizzled and melted in that brew, the day this tragic era was born. [495]
What Shall We Call the Bomb Dropped on Hiroshima? Shall we call it Flash of White Light Maker or Mushroom Cloud in Sky Maker? Shall we call it Terminator of War Bomb or Incinerator of People Weapon? Shall we call it Secret Victory Weapon or Dark Shadow Revealing Bomb? Shall we call it Rescuer of Young Soldiers Weapon or Creator of Orphans Bomb? Shall we call it The Beginning of the End or The End of the Beginning? - August 6, 1995 [496]
Early Morning at the Epicenter Nagasaki, November 18, 2002 A chill is in the air this November morning. Orange and yellow leaves tumble across neatly laid red bricks. On nearby grass, groundskeepers, old men, rake the leaves into piles and gather them. It is a gray morning, quiet and cold. The epicenter of the crime is marked by a simple black monolith, pointing skyward. Five hundred meters above, the atomic bomb called “Fat Man” shuddered and awakened. At the base of the monolith are flowers, signs that the dead are not forgotten, their dreams still with the living, vibrant as the colorful folded cranes hanging nearby in tightly bunched clusters. [497]
Fifty One Reasons for Hope 01. Each new dawn. 02. The miracle of birth. 03. Our capacity to love. 04. The courage of nonviolence. 05. Gandhi, King and Mandela. 06. The night sky. 07. Spring. 08. Flowers and bees. 09. The arc of justice. 10. Whistleblowers. 11. Butterflies. 12. The full moon. 13. Teachers. 14. Simple wisdom. 15. Dogs and cats. 16. Friendship. 17. Our ability to reflect. 18. Our capacity for joy. 19. The Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu and Oscar Romero. 20. The gift of conscience. 21. Human rights and responsibilities. 22. Our capacity to nurture. 23. The ascendancy of women. 24. Innocence. 25. Our capacity to change. 26. Mozart, Beethoven and Chopin. 27. The internet. 28. War resisters. 29. Everyday heroes. 30. Lions, tigers, bears, elephants and giraffes. 31. Conscientious objectors. 32. Tolstoy, Twain and Vonnegut. 33. Wilderness. 34. Our water planet. 35. Solar energy. 36. Picasso, Matisse and Miro. 37. World citizens. 38. Life. 39. The survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. 40. The King of Hearts. 41. Rain. [498]
42. Sunshine. 43. Pablo Neruda. 44. Grandchildren. 45. Mountains. 46. Sunflowers. 47. The Principles of Nuremberg. 48. A child's smile. 49. Dolphins. 50. Wildflowers. 51. Our ability to choose hope. [499]
David Krieger is a founder of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation, and has served as President of the Foundation since 1982. Krieger has lectured throughout the United States, Europe and Asia on peace, security, nuclear weapons, and international law and has authored numerous books on peace and the nuclear age, and edited a collection of poetry, The Poetry of Peace (Capra Press, 2003). Krieger's first collection of poetry, Today Is Not a Good Day for War, was published by Capra Press in 2005. Krieger is a graduate of Occidental College, obtained an M.A. and Ph.D. in political science from the University of Hawaii, and his J.D. from the Santa Barbara College of Law. The poems here are drawn from David Krieger, Today is Not a Good Day for War (Capra Press, 2005). |
