"Myth is the public dream, and dream is the private myth." Joseph Campbell
Make War No More
When Nations Went to War . . .
Closeness they felt and none could flee.
These times they knew Camaraderie.
The State declared they’d all come of age.
Battle’s intimacy was like getting engaged.
Fighting with buddies, ever present companions,
Friend and Foe raged across War’s deep canyons.
Two faces stared ahead in disbelief.
One was a volunteer, one a draftee.
Fought, held the land, those feelings assuaged.
One named Terror, and one named Rage,
They stood together though the hold was tenuous.
Reason warned, “Death would be instantaneous.”
Men justified it with, "We fought to be free."
And they may or may not have hated the enemy.
Hell bent, they found new wars to wage.
The men’s motivations were hard to gauge.
Causes got lost. Caught in mass egomania,
Un-Self-Aware Reason went subterranean.
Crazy Wars . . .
The War on Drugs was the effort to make us see
Illegal Drugs as the Enemy. Unable to decree
No cross border traffic, punishment was how to manage.
Now prison cells are filled. Few are paroled, disengaged.
Needed treatment denied no life skills were the convicts given.
From Minimum Mandatory Sentences to a life of crime driven.
Twin Towers Destroyed. A shower of bodies and debris
Cascade down on the streets. Terrorists on a killing spree
Destroyed themselves and others, ushering in a new age.
Ghostly dust covered pilgrims march across the front page.
The War on Terror was born. Without sanction, not to be reined in,
We attacked Iraq. But we ignored the true villain, Osama Bin Ladin.
Lone leaders in isolation we can surely foresee
Run the risk of drowning in their own hubris.
Overwhelmed, paranoid, they can’t disengage
From their obsessions to get on the front page.
Making war on peace, caught in megalomania,
The Assassins destroy, taking leave of their sanity.
The War between the Sexes . . .
Men and women could stand toe to toe and contradict
Each other. Child bearing, creating or destroying all constrict.
Trying to choose the right path, both genders strive to feel whole.
Make war, babies, or finish a life work? What is the purposeful role?
It is an unanswerable question. But we know that pain underlies
Playing out these three life and death dramas. Completion satisfies.
Is man’s destiny always to be drawn into conflict?
Could we ever be different? Can we predict?
Is the name of the game only Power and Control?
Or find the enemy. Kill him. Let’s go out on patrol.
Is the only glory in war, and looking death in the eye?
United by humanness, we could find Purpose otherwise.
Some women, might be drawn to biology’s edict
To be fruitful and multiply, to fill society’s strict
Role definition. Existential questions plague all souls.
Wisdom dictates that we should be aware of real goals.
Creativity, conflict or closeness? To which side will we ally?
Real peace is achieved when open hearts more softened, unify.
Ain’t Gonna Teach War No More . . .
The middle way is the preferred mode of connectivity.
It is not passively letting our rights be taken into captivity,
Nor aggressively running over others’ rights by the carload.
The assertiveness way brings peace in the end. It is the middle road
Of balancing one’s own rights and power with another’s. How unexpected!
For if we do it the old way, Frog-brain-in-charge remains unaffected.
If warfare is learned behavior, not an inherent primitive proclivity,
Then how do we make the peaceful path safe, get more adaptivity?
Doing what the nation declares is Manly must become outmoded.
Injunctions about what is truly Manly or Masculine must be eroded.
History over emphasizes power. Such fame is thin and misdirected.
Our journey as sane human beings is what ought to be recollected.
Humans must learn to make peace with each other through creativity.
If faced with a difference of opinion, we must resist our subjectivity.
When conflicted, challenged or attacked, we stand at the crossroads
Named Aggression, Passivity or Assertiveness. Will we take the rutted
Road Of War? Or will we just spin to retreat, or flee, terrified and other-directed?
No. The Justice Scale weighs our rights and others’ . . . Assertiveness perfected!
Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche? . . .
In 2003 Iraq, a wise combat leader connected to his best trait of humanity.
He ordered U.S soldiers, faced with threat, to act with true sensitivity.
Rather than hunker down, aim and fire, soldiers made peaceful inroads
With Iraqi civilians, by doffing their sunglasses. Eyes meeting, they strode
Amongst the people, without presuming the citizens were terrorist suspects.
Their leader, a tough Marine, built on the higher goal of giving due respect.
Instincts hard wired deep in our brains spur reactivity
When we are faced with perceived threats or opportunities.
When seeing dreaded strangers, frog-brain’s automatic mode
Directs us to fight or flee if they scare us. And Primitives explode.
Cowards turn tail and run. Heroes, though scared, get respect.
Because they battle to save others, their brave stand is correct.
What is inherent masculinity or born feminity?
Are we male or female from the moment of nativity?
Society presumes to judge us, and respect is bestowed
Upon those who stick slavishly to roles set by The Code.
Theory asserts that inherently women nurture and men protect.
Is it masculine to kill your own species, or Instinct misdirected?
Finding Meaning in Suffering . . .
Addicts, and convicts, and derelicts afflicted,
Are not the only ones suffering, lives restricted.
Territorial men or nations in dispute exact high tolls.
Women, children, men and nations fall into sinkholes.
We wear blinders and earplugs; we refuse to analyze.
The Existential question, “Finding Meaning” is disguised.
In ignorance of our flawed human nature, war is depicted
As inevitable, glorious, waged for good reason, not inflicted.
Until we are willing to peer through Death’s dark keyhole,
We will learn nothing about from whence the pain unrolls.
Failing to manage anger and aggression, people are brutalized
When all that really needs to happen is for leaders to be wise.
Time goes not backwards. Over the ages the clock has ticked.
If there were only a way to see that peace over war is picked.
When we strive to learn why we were born, how to be whole,
When we feel angry or scared, we could then ourselves console.
No more unhinged, wild-eyed demons could be exorcised.
The central question is key, "How can we compromise?"
Copyright By Carol Gee - January 27, 2004
My topical post today at
South by Southwest and
The Reaction is about politics.
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