I walk through my life
feet bare and callused
across a carpet of war
*
not metaphysical war
not philosophical war
*
homespun wars waged
in places that I do not live
and mostly have not visited
*
the carpet’s barbed pile
has been underfoot since
I was born
*
my mother was in labor with me
not an easy labor
like my older brother’s had been
during those few years of peace
between World War II
and the Korea War
that shadowed my birth
*
the war to end all wars
did nothing of the kind
*
the Vietnam War began
its twenty year trek across my path
me a toddler at its beginning
a college graduate at its end
*
I learned geography
in newspapers with maps
of the lands we bombed
Angola
Afghanistan (I turned 19 in Kabul before America bombed there)
Bolivia
Cambodia
El Salvador
Grenanda
Guatamala
Haiti
Iran (I drank black coffee thick with sugar in Tehran
before America bombed there)
Iraq
Korea (an airplane stopover before my Tokyo destination)
Nigeria
Panama
Somalia
Sudan
Venezuela (I shared my poetry in a celebration of world poets before America bombed there)
Yemen
again Korea
again Iraq
again Iran
*
in elementary school
a few times a year
we were gathered and sat
on metal folding chairs in neat rows
where we were not to talk
but to sing
*
after we pledged allegiance
there was the national anthem
the Battle Hymn of the Republic
America the Beautiful
My Country Tis of Thee
and finally my favorite
This Land is Your Land
*
this was our nation
the principal would proclaim
we were to honor
the privilege of being in it
*
but hidden inside the lyrics
of most of the songs
hung the truth
of exploding bombs
destroying hundreds of thousands
of lives and homes
in our nation’s name
wars of property
wars of dominion
wars of capitalism
wars of imperialism
*
wars with severed body parts
blistered skin
exploded hearts
flattened homes
*
not yet known by me
was the fact
that my timeline
was to be punctuated
by a very few years of relative peace
before the USA
would again invade and bomb
nations far from where I live
*
the years pass
the calluses thicken
the carpet deepens
and with each step I take
another bomb falls
*
devorah major
March 2026
If I have omitted any US wars waged from the 1950’s until now, please let me know in the comments.
Powerful but so sad. I feel powerless to stop any of these wars – I protest, boycott certain businesses, donate to candidates, vote,… Thank you for your lament, but what to do?
Protests are good in terms of them helping people to realize that millions believe as they do and want to create the kind of world a world of compassion, a world of sharing we do. I think that pointed economic boycotts are good because in the end money drives the train. I think that donating to organizations who are in their way, be its arts, social justice, media, etc., are working to create this better world is also of value. For me there is a rare politician that I want to give my money to, but that is a personal decision. I also think there is value in educating people who may not yet be going the same direction, who may be thinking “Oh it is just going to get better,” without any making moves in that direction. Education is of no use to a closed mind, but there are many who can be engaged to think more, to see more, so I also think that is a good thing. Do other people have suggestions? What to do, what to do…?Please put them in the comments. Thank you