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Debunk War

Endless war

Seventeen hundred years

Of rationalization

Because of

Just War Theories

It means escalation

That the other side

Is always a greater evil

And proportionality

Is never enough decimation

So war becomes endless.

And where are we?

With the mayhem

The revenge

The violence

The slashing of our souls

Sad gutting of our civilization

And fraudulent abuse of power

Leaves us vacuous

With a reverse set of values

And a lack of forward motion

Fighters rather than lovers

Time to debunk war

And guns and violence

And learn to be better human

Beings more authentic

More honest opening to

Non-violent peace.

(On occasion of realizing that Just War Theories do not work when one side thinks they are the good guys that can find excuses to justify war) 10/17/14

Visualizing Where

Disciples dream of a world where every person is

Perceived as a child of God—dignified, respected—

Where no person is seen as better than another,

Sharing strategies to overcome violence,

Gathering around the open table of Sabbath rest,

To connect with other persons caring about the earth,

Not taking from but creating a better place,

Where courageous persons speak out for peace,

Embracing pluralism, transcending nationalism,

Where persons work for justice,

Where all kind of work is valued and compensated fairly,

Where the poor and oppressed get a fair shake,

Where all rise to become more kind, gentle

and loving, transforming our neighbors.

(On occasion of a Disciples Peace Fellowship meeting on April 20, 2009

to make a statement on “What would a world of justice and peace look like?”)

Bullets Fail – Let PeacePrevail

How strange the fascination with bullets,

Hard, brassy, classy, shiny in their cases,

Poised, coiled in the chambers of weapons,

Until triggered, flying through fleshy places.

How foolish are the grabbers who rein in others,

Powerful, like pro-wrestlers, except with a gun,

Strutting, cajoling, suppressing, acting big,

Passing on a macho mask from father to son.

People may work, picking up a paycheck,

Never once having to ask who’s to blame,

When a sixteen year old boy finds a gun,

Targets his school as if on a video game.

Nobody knows where goes those bullets,

Maiming a soldier, trying not to die in vain,

But killing another, nobody really cares,

How the violence makes us all go insane.

And so the bullets travel through Iraq,

Fighting a wretched war built on a lie,

Or into the scary scenes of street gangs

Fighting for recognition before they die.

So many bully bullets roam around the world,

Tearing apart the beauty of innocent’s delight,

To crumble the walls that keep them out

And steal the scarce little that is their right.

When will we ever learn that bullets hurt

Our chances to make life our ultimate goal,

Because, before the flame of love flickers out,

We must nurture peace or rip apart our soul.

(On the occasion of the 4^th Anniversary of theIraq war, 3/18/07)

Call 911

Unspeakable strangulated silence

Lingers in the echo chambers

Of our hollow hearts, congested

By the layered cholesterol

Of fatty white lies,

That it was Sadaam or Osama

Who were the cause of all our problems,

After two airliners collide

With two titan towers

Bringing the financial goliaths

To their knees, collapsing

The impenetrable veneer

That any one nation has a right

To lord it over many other nations.

911 was a call for help,

but arrogant and deaf leaders missed the call,

too proud to admit that nations need help,

more prone to blame anyone else

and name calling them “terrorist,”

a perfect substitute for old enemies,

the communists – a worthy monster,

in which to spread high alert fear

and divert the money making machine

behind secret doors – to sell bullets

and steal oil and build empire,

looking more and more

like we become the actual terrorists

to the rest of a desperate world.

If only we had listened

Instead of starting Bush’s war.

Maybe we would not have caused

Our own heart attack

As a nation, collapsing

Into an evil vortex of tornadic destruction,

Call 911 for emergency rescue and

Help us to learn from Viet Nam,

That more war causes more pain,

That only a confession of wrong

Will heal our soul, finding “We” instead of me,

That national pride gets in the way

Of rest and exercise,

For finding our soul through peace and justice,

Most assuredly, we could die or get better,

We don’t know yet – since it is in the balance,

Needing surgery on the obstructions, maybe impeachment,

Maybe to hear leisurely poems rather than war drums,

To see if we will recover from this national heart attack.

(On occasionwhen DPF commemorated Sept. 11, 2001)

Counter Recruiting

The war making machine sneakily

Spreadsits tentacles into the schools

When a friendly recruiter leeringly

Latchesonto an innocent teenager.

Spieling out the schmaltz sales talk,

“Youwill want the best life possible,

And we can start you on that today,”

Therecruiter feeds blind propaganda.

Rescuing youth from militarism

Requiresa dialogue at the railroad,

“To stop, look and listen” for the options,

And refuse to support the killing machine.

(On occasionwhen recruiting is 2 billion too much; I’m wondering how to save our youth)

Crying

The world has lost

its sense of humor,

by its sick sick addiction

to the instruments of war.

And no matter how many peace marches

Try to intervene and say, ‘Insanity.’

The addiction drives itself to the bottom,

Beforeit will listen to a voice of reason.

War’s gone wrong,

No more song,

No one is laughing,

And people keep dying,

We need change

Before we give up

Crying.

(On occasion when it’s hard to endure the anguish of war)

Final Regrets

Poised to build a Bombplex,

When we might peer over the nuclear abyss,

And ask ourselves if it is worth the potential

For destruction and finality, for someone at least,

We would probably come to the edge later, with regrets.

We would ask if we could learn anything

About heeding Eisenhower’s warning that

Everygun that is made signifies

atheft from the poor,

and hisconclusion that this is not

a healthy way of life –

this military industrial complex --

that drains our soul

of joy and life.

Our future on this planet

Could easily be destroyed

Byirresponsible decisions,

Shortsighted by economic interests,

And moral bankruptcy,

And fear of the phantom enemy.

That today many of us are motivated,

Not by force, but rather by courage of convictions,

That weare placed here to unite

rather than divide,

to make things better than

to spend a lot of money to keep

nations fearful.

The “Build up of arms” used to be called M.A.D.,

-Mutually Assured Destruction -

Which on the face of it is an insane idea,

That could destroy the whole world,

And so what we are asking is a moral turn-around,

That could reverse a pro-war mentality,

Which of course is the easy way out–

And know that the real,genuine work

Requires peacemaking, not by force,

but by nurturing communities

and communicating through conflicts

and not coming to the nuclear edge

with final regrets.

(On the occasion of Bendix public hearing, 5/23/07)

Imagine One Day of Peace

Imagine a day when the Department of Defense

No longer vacuums up all the money

That could be traded to care for people,

…When corporations like the Military Industrial Complex

No longer sneak behind the right to privacy

And will examine the unethical practice of building weapons

That lead to death and destruction of civilians,

…When workers are concerned about building up

Rather than tearing down the new creation,

Preventing global warming rather than scorching the earth,

…When policy makers begin to listen to peacemakers

Rather than trying to use force to outmaneuver them.

Imagine such a day! When we Imagine! Peace!

(On occasion in 08 when peacemakers were trying to stop plans

for a nuclear facility and we were appealing

to the US General Service Administrator)

Live Meditation

Sometimes resolving the tensions

Of peacemaking takes me into

The present moment

Which nurtures the inner being,

And gives a quiet energy of peace,

But changing the injustices

Means standing in the present

And getting in the way

Of the money and the controllers

Of fear and the future,

And so we have to let go

And be true to our own self,

No matter the threats,

And how hard we beat up ourselves,

If we will be true to ourselves,

We will have a chance to live.

(On an occasion when a Sabbath moment brings a peaceperspective)

Meanwhile, a War

A war is going on,

And we pretend.

Maybe our trivialities

Makelives end.

The aggression needs to stop

Assuming we have the only right

To do whatever we want, whenever,

While others shudder with fright.

A war is going on,

And wepretend.

While powerless victims

Justwish it would end.

(On occasion of reflecting what is normal, war or peace)

Obsession with Violence

How would we begin to transform a culture

That is tantalized by guns, spies, and war games?

When the downward spiral toward death is provocative

And we avoid a more humane treatment of others.

How do you address the fascination with war?

And stop stealing other resources like oil and land.

Or how about eliminating unfair capital punishment,

Maybe finding alternatives in the way we raise children.

Violence everywhere! Too bad it becomes the standard,

When what we need is to make non-violence normal,

Discovering that we not only hurt less people,

But we find peacemaking healthy to all living things.

(On occasion in 09 when AFSC wonders how the peacemakingmovement

breaks through the longevity of war)

Of War and Peace

Whenever I hear the word “fascism”

Icringe, because it represents

Such a black mark on public decency,

Squelching the right to be free.

You say that you are already free,

That is,until you try to be different

And raise questions that go against

Theprevailing point of view.

Most people hear the word “peace”

And they cringe over its softness,

Because it would ask us to be opposite

Ofour brutish, football mentality.

(On occasion of facing the peace dilemma when football andfascism present a contradiction)

Quest of Peace

This quest for peace, fragile and illusive,

Fights bombastic, strident voices, craving

To get there by force, brutally abusive,

Completely dominating and enslaving.

War shows up in the gaps of life,

Basically because of pressures

When we seek energy from strife

And try to steal other treasures.

Peace comes to our sister and brother,

After resolving the gaps of violence,

Not subjugating but respecting the other

Even walking away from any offense.

Peace calls us onto the other side,

To learn something about the quest,

Not violence and killing and pride,

But finding ourselves in Sabbath rest.

(On occasion of seeking the best peace)

Sabbatizing Peace

Shalom, Salaam, Peace,

Sabbatize us in your vision of peace,

Where we no longer justify our conflicts,

Torture, or any meanness to our enemies --

Instead,

Let us turn from violence, fear,

And resolve war with the energy of love,

By courage within to work for justice,

And building up a new and humane creation.

(On occasion of making a good statement on peace)

Sacred COW

We are holding up these signs

About the “Cost Of War,” asserting

That, one day of the Iraq war

Equals 720 million dollars,

Or 95,364 head start places for children

Or 84 new elementary schools

Or 6,482 families with homes,

When someone went by, shunning the flyer

Saying, “That is the price of freedom.”

Really! lost lives, lost dollars, lost morality,

When we could end the Iraq war,

Bring the troops home, unoccupy Iraq,

And redirect tax dollars to meet human need,

Money, Defense Contractors, Blackwater –

Forced freedom has a hollow ring to it.

Isn’t it about time to kill the sacred cow?

(On occasion of questioning how patriotism gets in the wayof clear thinking)

Souled Out

A nation that is comfortable

With huge missiles and big guns

And power and money and force

As a means of protection

While calling for patriotism

Will soon find that it has sold out

To values that cheapen

the human spirit

And seduced some into the macho military

To quicken a day of destruction

When we can no longer put out

the global oily fire

Because we have lost the opportunity

To do something about our demise,

As we go the way of the dinosaur,

Or become like trance-like dopes

Monkeying around

With sticks of dynamite?

Perhaps, we can search for illusive hope

By hiding the matches

Or go one more day to pray for peace

Or do some constructive act for the poor

Or expose the government’s deceit

Or take time to transform our soul.

(On occasion of asking what we sell our soul for)

Frozen

Glazed crystals fell from his frozen fists

And his face looked up from the fixed stare

As a passer-by offered him help to a better place,

But he was not choosing well, addicted to drink.

One has to wonder, though, what structures

Contribute to some becoming poor

And others rich from the sale of weapons

While we roll around in the snow of our moral dilemma.

Meanwhile…

City leaders huddle to keep warm

In details to build weapons of homelessness,

Addicted to systems of short-term solutions,

Stuporous

Merciless

Tragic!

If they choose a frozen death wish over life.

(On occasion during a public hearing about the KC Plant bombplex after a guy almost froze to death … raising questions about the conditions that keep us poor and throws too much money at the wrong things)

A Faithful Life

And what does the Lord require

But to do justice,

To offer love in a society,

To level the playing field,

To stand with the poor,

To work to bring the ups and downs

Closer together, more equal,

But something else,

To love kindness,

To take a softer approach,

To avoid the posturing of war,

To be equally sensitive to enemies,

To shun the trappings of nationalism,

To have the courage to be peacemakers,

To embrace diversity,

And become more tender, gentler,

Yet it is even more than this,

To walk humbly with your God,

To journey quietly on earth,

To live a life of integrity,

To be faithful to one’s deep values,

To honor one’s commitments,

To be as authentic as possible,

To this end, you have lived life fully

And served life faithfully,

(On occasion of thinking about Micah 6:8 and Micah ministries) Ron Faust on 4/25/10

Secret Languishing

Languishing, mostly that,

After staring stupid

Through prison bars,

Until the gates abruptly open

And jolt you to attention

With a slammer sound

That vibrates up and down

The spinal column, like a

Switching of trains

Screaming, and squirming

Pulling and jerking

Silence, and then

A prisoner cautiously enters

Bracing stiffly for the

Sound of the slammer,

Returning to languish

Before the gods of power

Unable to squelch

The secrets of protest,

Which knows the freedom

From injustice.

(On occasion of an arrest of Ron Faust and 52 others at the KC Plant making nuclear weapons on May 2, 2011)

Nuclear Voices

Voices of nuclear weapons

Always insist on safe levels

And like to tease the risks

And will even blame the victims

Who would have the audacity

To reveal radioactive cancers

While the public turns its head in denial

And goes along with well paid jobs

That never asks what it produces,

And before you know it, we have created

These weapons of mass destruction

That can blow everybody up,

So where is the sanity in all this,

When we listen to the voices that

Tell us that everything is all right,

When we should have our heads examined

And quit allowing the authorities

To silence the sanctity of survival.

(On occasion of listening to those who insist that there are acceptable levels of radiation in exchange for jobs in the nuclear industry) 6/15/11

TRIFECTA RESISTA

The bullies try to gag whistleblowers,

The CIA sneak drones into our private lives

And KC builds a nuclear weapons plant

All in the sacred name of National Defense,

As if middle America will never notice

And ask what these jobs are producing

And who is profiting from this industry,

Business as usual while flirting with disaster.

From Bradley Manning who exposed the truth

To Col. Wright and the deadly work of drones,

And Kathy Kelly who led us in civil resistance,

We go from Ft. Leavenworth, to KC, to Whiteman,

As others promote an evil industry of destruction.

So many follow blindly down the road, saluting

The Military Industrial Complex

And naively dabble in the trifecta evils of

racism, capitalism and militarism,

Yet we would be free to ban weapons of death

and save the human race for life,

not only sparing ourselves from a quick death

but also from living a slow death. Free us from both,

Knowing that we belong to the peace community.

(On occasion of an event in KC on April 13-15, 2012 called the Trifesta Resista, with demonstrations for Bradley Manning, against drones at Whiteman AFB and nuclear weapons at KC) 4/15/12

The Seasons of Disruption

What an awesome autumn day

With its summertime holdover

Of breezy greenly waving leaves

Saying Tata to the feisty summer.

Yet a certain sadness comes to creep

On my shoreline like a breaking wave

For no reason except for a distant loss

Of a friendship broken, disgruntled.

Nor can I explain the tears of humanity

For the wails of mourning by the wall

Built to make the other side disappear

As the haunting Drones buzz over.

And so I must face my winter of disruption

When I have railed against the injustices

And endured the vengeful violence,

I want to sow a forgiving springtime.

(On occasion of the first day of autumn and the end of trials by being reminded of the loss of innocent lives by Drones.) Ron Faust 9/22/12

A Day of Vindication in PeaceWorks

“Not Guilty” was far more auspicious

than a technicality about trespassing

for it represented peacemaker after

peacemaker following their conscience

to question the morality of nuclear weapons

when we have actually built dangerous killers

and assumed that this is a rational way to live,

but finally it took one beacon of light

to claim his right to stand against darkness,

a lawyer who had a good lawyer – himself,

and who vindicated the ignored peace movement.

(On occasion when Henry Stoever dared to defend himself in court before Judge Franco and showed the validity of his right to cross the line for sanity in the nuclear weapons buildup – finally a turn-about for hundreds of guilty sentences.) 1/16/15

The Piety of War

War persists

in the patriotism

in the God Bless America

in the justification of freedom

War lingers

in the dark recesses of torment

in the nightmares of images

in the memory of ghostly pals

War rages

in the broken promises

in the wounded heart

in the injury to moral integrity

War exaggerates

how much good it does but only

for those who take the money

War struts its stuff in pious parades

where we call the warriors heroes

even though they don’t feel like it

I say, I don’t like piety in religion

Neither do I like it in glorified war.

So leave the costumes to Halloween.

(On occasion when we dress up for both war and religion we become less than authentic; the result is a piety that doesn’t work) RLF 10/30/15