I wanted to respond to the war in Iraq with something creative and life-affirming, not meeting force with more anger. I started writing more haiku, but wasn’t sure how to use them until I read a poem by Daphne Gottlieb called “Notes from the SF Resistance.” In it, she mentions protesters handing out flowers to people stuck in traffic at demonstrations, thanking them for their patience. So I put these poems on business-card-sized slips of paper to hand out to protesters and passersby alike.

Rubble, ruin, loss – Afghanistan forgotten In Iraq’s shadow.	I will never see The color of Baghdad’s sky, Hot wind on my face.
The true costs of war: Devastation, hopelessness, Land weeping with blood.	Madmen are locked up When danger to self, others... George Bush qualifies.
Whatever you do May seem most small, Gandhi said, But you must do it.	Where do I find hope? Language is a miracle, Love can’t be explained.
History records The art as well as the war – These lines, my small peace.	Three years under Bush Undid decades of progress – No conscience, no soul.
I mourn my country – It holds out hope to the world, Then strikes when they reach.	I can’t “struggle,” “fight” To create peace anymore – Old language, old ways.
Money for healthcare, Schools, clean water, elections: Export to Iraq.	Imminent threat from Weapons of mass destruction? Remember the truth.
George W. Bush, Threat to truth, democracy: Rogue nation of one.	A radical thought: Voters actually elect Our next president.
Arab men languish Without due process or rights – Guess what? We’re all next.	There’s no joy in death, Whatever the corpses’ names – I name them Human.
Lies, lies, and more lies – Have you no shame, Mr. Bush? At long last, no shame?	My Patriot Act is standing up and saying, “No more. This is wrong.”
Supporting the troops Means bringing them back alive, Not in body bags.	Bush attacked Iraq To teach Saddam a lesson: “Obey the UN!”
Dispersal order? There was none. Welcome to your Hometown police state.	You will now enjoy Freedom from democracy – Cheers, America!
The incessant drone, Helicopters overhead – SF or Iraq?	Iraqi children, Incinerated by bombs – The rest is silence.
Bruised hand bears witness To plastic handcuffs, too tight – Blood seeps below skin.	George has deadly toys. The UN asked him to nap – His sulking costs lives.
Hoses and bullets – Selma in ’63? No. Thoughts from here at home.	“Disrupt” on web site Translates to a bill for cops – The costs of free speech.
Bombs fall in Iraq While on the homefront, our rights Fall even faster.	“To Serve and Protest” – My motto in times of war, My voice raised for peace.

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