MAP #92

II. Featured Poetry Theme: without war

1. Good Enough Mother by Jon Wojkowski

All good soldiers

Have good mothers

Who tuck them in at night

Sleep tight sweet prince

Some day soon

We'll call upon you

To roam the countryside

And perform the ethnic cleansing

So that the tribe may squat

Righteously, on the promised land.

If only human behaviour

And the mystery of personality

Could be explained

By the infantile sexuality of perversions

How has the fundamentalist organized

The data of 69¢ tuna

Into the anal retentive

Sublimation of gratification

And does the closing of hospitals;

Opening of casinos

Balance the books much better

In the absence of

Good enough mother

© 1998 Jon Wojkowski

2. War? By Sam Hurst

Why was war declared on the children?

"Kids must mate before 8!"

Male pedophiles scream

assiduously using high tech to spread self hate.

Scout Masters, teachers, coaches, preachers

some of them the worst of God's creatures.

Why was war declared on the children?

Grown women sexually insane

mating with junior high school boys.

Others sell Kindergartners as toys

for money to cover pain with cocaine

Why was war declared on the children?

Some adults smile kindly and nod with care

while involved in the vilest of incest.

The children thinking guilt is theirs to bear

Twist their minds into an awful mess.

Why was war declared on the children?

Latchkey kids roam free until six or so.

Parents are ambitious, always on the go.

Many kids are drunk and screwed by four.

Sometimes killing things ooze through the door.

Why was war declared on the children?

Now parents are afraid of the children

afraid of the night

afraid of the streets

afraid of the young warriors' bite.

When was war declared on the parents?

Parents are being killed, many in their prime

by children wearing smiles hatefully intended.

But, should these children be jailed as criminals

or interned as Prisoners of War when apprehended?

© s.a.hurst

3. Digging by Scott Wiggerman

We have always lived close to the land.

Day after day, and into the night,

digging through dirt in earnest

with sticks for implements or with fingers

caked and calloused, gnarly as trees.

We dig like our fathers have done;

we dig like our mothers have done;

like aunts and uncles and grandparents have done;

like everyone anyone could remember has done.

To dig has been our history.

We live today too close to the land.

Day after day, and into the night,

pawing through earth in despair

with limbs and tears and heavy hearts,

weathered and bruised, rotting like trees.

We dig for the bones of our fathers;

we dig for the bones of our mothers;

for brothers and sisters and long-lost neighbors;

for history buried in makeshift graves.

To dig has become our destiny.

© Scott Wiggerman

4. LET FREEDOM DAWN by Jan Houston Solari

Out of oppression's heavy night

thick as steel

forged into living lies

from the might of Truth's betrayals...

through eons traveled

hails a shining promise...

a once blind hope

that kindled the brave hearts

of wounded warriors

killed again

again, again

defending Right

At long, long last arrived

into this day

the age old cry of Freedom

let it dawn...


for this is the true new world

Mankind in harmony

a sea of life in vibrant unison...


the Golden Age

© 1998 Jan Houston