Warrior Writers

2012-01-29T01:28:00.000-08:00

Children...

Some children smile,

Some children throw(bottles).

Some throw bottles...

with explosives...

did they know that...

were ready.

did they know that we think its better them than us?

Sorry...

I already know I’m here to survive.

Why do I need to be here only to survive?

Now I’m back, why is this, all I needed to feel?

Feel...

Relief...

Relief that I breathe.

Relief I’m breathing.

Trauma that I rock.

Back...

and,

Fourth.

In bed,

Through the night,

Sheets thrown about.

I hope this doesn’t last me throughout the rest of my life.

Inner Voices: Occupy Space

2011-10-28T12:22:00.001-07:00

Hey everyone! I have created the second in a series of poetry shows in NYC. Check my FB page for details under Nicole Goodwin: Events (Inner Voices). Or hit me up for details at ngoodwin07@yahoo.com hope to see ya'll on Nov.19th! And remember "OCCUPY EVERYTHING!"

NEEDED: COPY EDITORS!

2011-10-03T09:28:00.000-07:00

Hello Friends,

As you know, the Warrior Writers' third anthology will be released in a few weeks, so we'll need volunteers for copy editors to edit the work of our veterans!

The third anthology features the work of about 60 veterans from all branches of the military and all pockets of the United States. With the platform provided by Warrior Writers, these veterans have reflected on years of service to share their experiences with us. Our goal is to have the book published by Veterans' Day, so volunteer your time for the veterans who had the courage to share their military experiences with not only Warrior Writers, but others around the country who will read the book.

If you are interested, please email info@warriorwriters.org!

Your time is appreciated,

Warrior Writers - Philadelphia

Indoctrination

2011-09-30T16:32:00.000-07:00

Warrior Writers Chicago is in week 3 of a 6-week residency at a local community art space called Mess Hall. The theme of this week's workshops is "indoctrination." During this workshop, facilitators ask veterans to reflect on their training in the military. What values did you learn to adopt? What changes did you undergo during training? What did you begin to believe that you hadn’t believed before training? How did your time away affect your life, family, community?

Here is mine:

Indoctrination

We did jumping jacks until we called them side-straddle hops.
We walked with ruck sacks on our backs until we called it humping.
We accepted punishment until we called it discipline.
We shouted cries for death until we called it singing.
We fired guns until we called them weapons.
We shot at plastic people until we called them “enemy.”
We studied myths until we called them realities.
We trained to oppress populations until we called it liberating them.
We said awful things about stomping babies until we called them jokes.
We did the wrong things until we called them right.
We instilled and lived in fear until we called it love.
We called it all something else until we believed it.

"Dirty Realism" in Granta

2011-09-29T18:51:00.000-07:00

Check out the new Granta, which includes Phil Klay's story "Redeployment"--reviewed in the Economist.
Also don't miss his web-only story "OIF."

X-posted from caribou (4 Sept 2011)

To Hell and Back Again

2011-09-29T18:34:00.000-07:00

X-posted from caribou (24 Sept 2011)

Last night I had the chance to see a screening of To Hell and Back Again here at Princeton, thanks to React to Film and Prof. Meredith Martin.

This documentary tells the story of Sergeant Nathan Harris, a Marine squad leader who gets wounded in an ambush in Afghanistan. Using footage from Afghanistan and after, director Danfung Dennis weaves an affecting, complex story about the effects and experience of war.

The film presents us with Nathan Harris's recovery and adjustment to life back in North Carolina, with his wife Ashley, after his redeployment from Afghanistan. Dennis interleaves the Afghanistan footage, as if these scenes were flashbacks, at once heightening the contrast between "over here" and "over there," and strengthening the connections between the two places, as they're simultaneously inhabited by Nathan Harris. Drawing these connections, between war and peace, between America and its wars, is the most important thing the film does. Showing how they live in Nathan Harris, and how he lives in them, is the most powerful.

To Hell and Back Again lacks the production values and range of Restrepo, even if it more than makes up for that lack by its intimate focus on Harris, but it does share two important things with that film, one good and one bad. Like Restrepo, it gives us a close, intense view, under fire. Also like Restrepo, we get too many scenes focusing on the miscommunication and misunderstanding endemic between Americans and Afghanis. Let me be clear: I'm not opposed to showing such scenes. I was glad to see these scenes in both movies, and understand their purpose, and doubt not the least that they reflect on-the-ground realities.

At the same time, both films hammer the point beyond observation: it's not enough to illustrate the miscommunication, they need to make sure you GET IT. The main effect of this political tendentiousness, beyond making the films a bit tedious in spots, is taking up time that could have been used for other things. More complexity gets left out in favor of beating home a message, which is too bad. This is a minor complaint, however.

On the whole, in fact, while Restrepo may have "better" combat footage, To Hell and Back again is a better documentary and a better movie. It needs to be seen. (I have qualms about combat footage in general, and the question of who has a right to see what, but that's too complicated a subject to go into here and now.)

To Hell and Back Again opens in New York and LA on October 5. See it.

Northumberland, PA (redux)

2011-09-29T06:28:00.001-07:00

Our troops are on bases in lands far away
I cant help but wonder what grandfather would say
He sailed from England for a better life
And here's where he lived and married his wife
There were children born and that led to me
I've followed the path on my family tree
The British Empire stretched far and wide
But he joined the militia on the American side
Today we're deployed in so many places
The Sun never sets on all of our bases
I'm wondering now like the man on the street
Is Empire really something we want to repeat?

Jim Hale
September 27 2011

Northumberland, PA

2011-09-27T11:15:00.000-07:00

Our troops are on bases in lands far away
And I cant help but wonder what grandfather would say
He sailed from England for a better life
And here he lived and met his wife
There were children born that led to me
I've followed the path of my family tree
The British Empire it stretched far and wide
But he joined the militia on the American side
I'm wondering now like the man on the street
Is Empire really something we want to repeat?

Jim Hale
September 27 2011

from Clerks

2011-09-22T21:12:00.001-07:00

We wrote the paperwork
We got the calls
We booked the flights
for the boys
getting the fuck outta dodge.
Boys with sunken cheeks
darkened by the sun
with sand still in their ears.
Boys with only a burden,
beer, and sex on their minds
to soften the edges of
the sins they carried.
Then there were the boys
that left their burdens
in the desert,
draped in flags
to soften the burdens
of the sins we carry.

Reflections on 10 Years of War (free write)

2011-09-12T08:36:00.001-07:00

How can I say what can't be spoken about rage and regret?

10 years later how does my country feel about all that's been lost?
What has been lost?
morality, love, acceptance, progress, deep thinking, questioning, connecting

Where is our military? What are the reasons for supporting the wars?
fear, hatred, vengeance, need for significance...where else can we find meaning?
family, love, nature, beauty, hope, believing, giving of ourselves

Why do we look to war for meaning?
History, lies, we want to be a part of something bigger

What is the problem?
sub-human, no connection, no love, no respect-for ourselves or others

We saw the smoke billowing up to the sky,
nervous energy about our own lives, what role would I play in this, how can I shine?

Then I saw the lives as valuable as mine
Then I saw the love much greater than mine
Then I saw the hate grow in my own kind
Then I asked the question, why am I here, with a M-16 and sand in my hair?
Where is my life, my love, and why?
Over lines across oceans I cry out to you or God or anyone.

But no one heard because my words wouldn't come, they just stayed in my heart like a beating drum.

Life in opposition

2011-08-31T17:48:00.001-07:00

Like other paths that I have found Not easy to see when they come around  A normal life was never mine Was traded for a new design

I looked and didn't see the reason You'd think that I committed treason  The road I took was marked taboo And I've never missed the social glue  Jim Hale August 31 2011

Bunnies vs Air Force

2011-08-26T13:01:00.000-07:00

Bunnies in the bush
Bunnies in the jungle
They took away our teeth
Upper echelon bungle

They took away our lights
That shone out on the wire
We hoped for the best
When we came under fire

But we kept our mortars
Which was a real good thing
We were bunnies in the woods
Hope your listening

Don't put bunnies in the jungle
And leave us out there
Unless you're busy in Saigon
Or you just didn't care

Jim Hale
August 26 2011

Foreign Medals

2011-08-21T19:42:00.000-07:00

Campaign medal and Gallantry Cross
Reminders of the war we lost
A memory kept in a dusty drawer
From a made up country and a long ago war

Jim Hale
August 21 2011

Winter Soldiers

2011-07-30T15:34:00.000-07:00

Evil wicked mean and nasty
A little pissed off, but mostly happy

An angry vet can leave a mark
The FBI did hear me bark

They sent a narc to be my friend
I was young and failed to comprehend

We were never guilty of any crime
But they dropped the hammer big time

For trying to stop the war we fought
They wanted to stop our freedom of thought

Nixon went down and we were acquitted
If the truth was known, it was them we outwitted

Jim Hale
July 30 2011

I Can't Believe I Avoided Time for So Long

2011-07-24T19:48:00.000-07:00

I think it was already a month ago that I noticed a new Warrior Writers book was in the works and had a call out for submissions. I meant to get back on right away after I saw that e-mail, but I think that "right away" slipped away a month ago already and I think after I write this posting I'm going to look for my last posting on this blog and think about how long it has been.

I have been writing a whole lot more, and also conspicuously less in some areas. I wanted to enter a creative non-fiction scholarship essay contest in Spring of this year (deadline April 2011) and I decided some kind of account of my deployment would be good to write. After all, I wanted to win the money ($10,000 prize sounds very fine to a struggling single mother) and the climate is ripe for war stories, so I figured I would try.

The problem is I can't remember anything the way it should be told.

My memory is fragmented, my internal timeline is off, and the journal I kept while I was in Iraq? I didn't even MENTION that I was in Iraq one single time.

I was thinking I'd post some fragments on here every few days, and hope for some words of encouragement, workshop advice, or...

Oh, who knows.
I absolutely have to keep writing,
is all.

Where Am I?

2011-07-08T14:25:00.000-07:00

Where am I?
Swinging to and fro
through the hoops
you have conditioned
me to adapt;
to the changes
you desire most.

Where am I?
On the short train
to hell
fire blazing on my trail
as I consider your
final destiny.

Where am I?
Holding on to nothing
in the air
that suffocates me
and stifles my very words;
words you don't
want to hear.

Where am I?
Inside a tiny jar
struggling to climb
up to the brim
just to be shoved
back to the base
once again.

Where am I?
Somewhere I never
hoped to be
deep inside your head
yet colored
and painted red for hate
you hate me
and that's okay.

Where am I?
Facing such confusion
anger and pain
time for seclusion to take
up camp and stalk
my brain.

Where am I?
Leaving comforts
and joy in the
wind as I step
out to be new again.

Where am I?
I am here
going down the hill
of hope faster
than a bullet
can make one choke.

I am everywhere
you look with those vacant eyes
try, try, try
to move on with
this opportunity
to be simply
just
me.
I am here.

JUNE 2011 NEWSLETTER

2011-06-29T17:08:00.000-07:00

Do
Support the publication of our next book! Donate today to help get the voices of our veterans in print and in the hands of those who need it! Click here to donate.

If you haven’t bought one of our previous anthologies in awhile, consider gifting one to yourself or a friend. Check out our new online store!!

Warrior Writers is partnering with Outward Bound to take veterans on a canoeing and rock-climbing expedition! The course is from July 15-20 in the Delaware Water gap. All expenses paid, including travel to Philly. Paperwork is due Friday, July 1! Don’t let this chance pass you by! You will be glad you went! Click here for more info.

Join us for our next Veterans and Community Conference in Chicago this September. Details will be available on the website next month. Click here to see photos from our Philly conference.

Give thanks for all the new veterans who joined the Warrior Writers community in Boston this past week at the William Joiner Center. We are very grateful for the openness and amazing writing that the Boston vets contributed, and for the allies who helped make it possible. WW Boston be gathering in the next couple weeks to start preparing their submissions for the book. Contact Ian at Boston@warriorwriters.org for more info.

Share
Featured Artist: Hart Viges

War feeds my soul
It gives me purpose
Fire coursing through my veins
Water through my eyes
Gunpowder through my fingers
Heart beats with adrenaline
Mother slaps my face with a kiss
Everything is upside down
Right side up
I hide
I forget
I pray
Home is gone
Sleep in sweat
Drink piss
Hurt people
Hurt myself
War feeds my soul
It gives me purpose
Phoenix rise
Flip the coin
Wear black in Summer
Family safety brief
Found the struggle
The new war
A new way to fight
Fire coursing through my throat
Water through my eyes
Music moves my fingers and feet
Love feeds my soul
It gives me purpose

Writing Exercise - Hart’s piece speaks of purpose. For many the feeling of contributing to something was lost when they left the service. How have you found purpose in new places? Was there a struggle to find it or are you still searching?

Please share your work at any stage with the Warrior Writers community at http://warriorwriters.blogspot.com/ If you need a login, contact members@warriorwriters.org

Be
Be in the loop! We’re in the process of building our database and need your addresses so we can send you postcards about our upcoming events and what not. Please click here http://www.warriorwriters.org/join_form.php to submit your info via our website.

BE OUR MURALIST! If you or someone you know is a muralist or can collaborate with one (apply as a collective) is interested in powerful, innovative work with veterans, download the application now. We’ve extended the deadline and will post the new date on May 10th.

Be in the next Warrior Writers book, be a peer editor! We’ve sent out the call for submissions for our third anthology of work by veterans. Download the complete submission guidelines here. Submissions are due by August 1st, so use the summer time to get your creative juices flowing! Remember, you can post your work on the blog or Facebook to get feedback from others. Warrior Writers artists who are interested in helping to provide in-depth feedback to your peers about their writing should email us by July 6 at info@warriorwriters.org to let us know. Start deciding which four pieces you want to submit.

Be on the website! Warrior Writers artists, what are you up to? Send details on the events you’re organizing or involved in and we’ll post it on the web. Send to webmaster@warriorwriters.org.

Become our friends/supporters/fan on Facebook (Warrior Writers) and invite your friends to spread the word to their network.

June 29, The Eyes of Babylon - Artist talk/discussion

2011-06-27T11:37:00.000-07:00

Warrior Writers hosts an artist talk-back and discussion immediately following the play, The Eyes of Babylon, showing Off-Broadway this Wednesday June 29. We’re offering 20 comp tickets to our network, so if you’re able to attend, send us your name asap.

In this commanding solo performance, Jeff Key describes how his Southern upbringing and determined patriotism lead him to enlist in the Marine Corps as a 34 year-old gay man. When the U.S. is attacked less than a year later on September 11th, Key finds himself unexpectedly preparing for war.

Details:

Wednesday June 29, 7pm

59 East 59th Street, NY, NY 10022

Free, first come, first served tickets – Send your name to info@warriorwriters.org

Lincoln's Speech

2011-06-24T12:14:00.000-07:00

"With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow, and his orphan -- to do all which may achieve a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations."

From Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, given November 19, 1863 on the battlefield near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

***

Lincolns speech

The Gettysburg speech did pave the way
For all the benefits we enjoy from the VA

Like hospitalization, and primary care
Our GI Bill, didn't fall from the air

Like travel pay to get to my appointments
Full dental, mental health and antidepressants

If your damaged from service and your life is affected
In theory your automatically service connected

But a bureaucrat will fight you each step of the way
The process is tedious with years of delay

And once you granted the attention you needed
You wake up to the fact of how much we've been cheated

Who would have guessed all these perks of today
Came from a president now rumored to have been gay

Jim Hale
June 24 2011

Christmas 1914 & 1968

2011-06-18T15:32:00.000-07:00

It was fifty years and four more ago
Since World War I was being fought in the snow

Christmas 1914 the soldiers endured
In the darkness, no mans land was obscured

But then a holiday tree could be seen in the wire
In the hearts of the soldiers, dreams of peace were inspired

The soldiers from Germany, France, and the UK
Played soccer together on Christmas day

The truce was not sanctioned, they were breaking the rules
To keep fighting on Christmas, they'd have to be fools

There was peace in some places till New Years Day
But higher up officers made them again square away

Now its Christmas 1968
Up all night for the Sun we await

Our lights are all gone and our vision impaired
It's so dark at night, except for the parachute flares

Our mortars are thumping, the tracers are flying
My heart double pumping, there's somebody dying

Bullets reach a target, may not be what you think
Its war for Christmas, we went over the brink

A hundred yards past the airstrip that night
The Viet Cong were trying, to get in close for a fight

Back in the world, Silent Night they were singing
When our mortars took out, the gifts they were bringing

Than came the sound of secondary explosions
I just put it away, and forgot those emotions

But now its all finished with, over and done
In spite of the dying, no peace has been won

World War I happened a long time ago
The reasons for fighting I never did know

In 2014 it will be 100 years
Since the war that was stopped by those brave mutineers

Is peace on Earth just some words in a speech?
Or could it be something war veterans might teach?

Jim Hale
June 18 2011

Combat loss

2011-06-15T08:37:00.000-07:00

They said there'd be no shooting I believed it of course
When I turned 18 and joined the US Air Force

Fifteen left behind on a forward air control post
On this island 5 miles off the Cambodian coast

The duty was hard but I did my time
But why did they take out the claymore mines?

I guess we were just a combat loss
It was down to us to pay the cost

I didn't know what all went down
It was just a bad place to hang around

Forty years past and my heads still a mess
The VA's calling it combat stress

If you serve your country just like me
You too may qualify for the VA extended warranty

Jim Hale
June 15 2011

2011-06-13T09:54:00.000-07:00

Hey you guys! I am working on a proposal to submit for Split This Rock Poetry Festival 2012. I want to do a group reading with other Vets to show the healing power of writing poetry. If any of you guys would be interested in performing, please email me for more info. My email is ngoodwin07@yahoo.com or hit me up on Facebook under Nicole Goodwin.

What war, what other news?

2011-06-10T11:33:00.000-07:00

I wrote this a couple months ago, before I was a member here. Allot of this holds true now........

On the TV news they keep on preachin
To go 24/7 their really reachin

Politicians under the gun
Must be day ninety one

Ice in the south and snow in the east
Tuscon mass shooting 6 deceased

Never a word on the two wars were fighting
Funeral protesters must be delighting

If we cant see the war we're waging
How are we to be a gaging

The cost of war is all but hidden
The VA system is overridden

There must be a way that we can see
The real news, and that’s bugging me

Jim Hale
January 12 2011

Out of here

2011-06-07T16:37:00.000-07:00

Democrats hate republicans
But they have no guts
Republicans hate democrats
They all drive me nuts

No other nation can take our crown
The lies they're tellin will bring us down

The war goes on its in the overtime frame
Vietnam Iraq different names but the same game

Open up your eyes and lend me your ear
Declare victory and get us out of here

Jim Hale
June 7 2011

INNER VOICES: An Afternoon of Poetry

2011-06-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

Come one, come all! This free event features some of the most ecclectic array of poets in New York City. What a way to start the summer!!!! Location: 125th Street Branch Library, East 125th Street and 3rd Avenue. From 2pm-4pm!

2011-06-07T13:18:00.000-07:00

June 20-July 1 Warrior Writers joins the William Joiner Center for the Study of War and Social Consequences at their annual summer Writers' Workshop. The Joiner Center offers a two-week writers workshop led by a remarkable list of current writers and poets. Warrior Writers founder Lovella Calica will lead veterans' writing workshops and civilian ally training as part of the two week schedule. The Joiner Center graciously offers free tuition to Afghanistan and Iraq veteran applicants, so any Warrior Writers interested are encouraged to apply! The workshop is one or two weeks. More info here: http://www.joinercenter.umb.edu/writers_workshop/2011_workshop.html

who's the enemy?

2011-06-07T10:26:00.000-07:00

this is for my battle buddy, Cooper, who in basic training

lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood

teeth missing, eyes swollen shut

I could see the boot prints on his face

beat for bein black, beat for his race

this is for G-force

the brick house jumpmaster, paratroopin disaster

Maaan, he could sing!

and make everyone laugh

but they called him names when he turned his back

see, G took care of me and I trusted him for that

he taught me how to fly, how to pull the trigger

and no afghani ever called him nigger

this is for the Vietnam Vet

who told me he didn't fear the death he might meet

because of his skin color,

he already worried about bein strung up

just for walkin down his own street

we were told the military would teach us

how to share our freedom

but what we learned was a new level of hate.

when we weren't training to kill people with turbans

we were conditioned to hate our sisters and brothers

foreign, domestic, and urban

this institution thrives on hate:

there was a swastika brand on the chest

of my first army roommate.

he told me uncle Sam don't care

but I couldn’t help but stare

at the absurdity of a man

wearing an arrowhead patch

representing the spirit of the Native Americans

crowned with a U.S. flag, on a blouse

encasing a chest

branded with a symbol of hate

this uniform supposedly defeated?

I’ve got news for you America

the enemy isn't in the Middle East

or Africa or Asia or Central and South America

It’s within you

and it’s within me

It’s the institution of hate

that keeps people from bein free.

VFW

2011-06-05T21:14:00.000-07:00

This is not about any organization but a weird connection

I was a teenager speaking to my principal

A Vietnam Vet

At the time I was impressionable

gun ho for the invasions and slaying of evil doer muslim blood

He reached out to me and we never agreed

Except of our two minds that thought differently

At a young age I embraced music

Flavored in foreign worldly delights

I burned a CD of music that contained

Southeast asian 60s/70s infused acid rock

I gave this gift to my principal

I gift soon to become nothing but a gift but a prophecy delivered to me

He played it in his office and it came clear instantly

That he was no longer the head of the school that I was enrolled in

He broke out in tears

I didn't understand it fully until I became what he once was

A veteran

I wonder some nights

How foolish I was not to see what a grown mans tears can warn me of what I was about to be apart of

Now I live a life of pain trying to not forget but accept peacefully that I was once apart of something larger

Something not to be proud of but something large nonetheless

Apart of American Imperialism

Apart of something I fought for and made it clear in my mind that it was right

Recently I tried to reach out to him and I still wait for an e-mail or call for all I got was a old teacher I use to have from that very school

She told me that she'd pass the message along

I told her weather or not I would ever speak to him that to leave my forwarded message with my quoted words

"You were right!"

He was a veteran of foreign wars

Wise in his age

Sending a message louder then any bomb

To a soon to be good ol boy

In Uncle Sam's fan club.

The Grind

2011-06-02T17:44:00.001-07:00

Guilt
and the burning coffee.
The elixir of the night shift
stripped of its essence:
decaffeinated, over-extracted
and burnt.
Sporadic sleep under artificial darkness,
Shaded
and challenging the insistent sun.
Running to embrace the comfort
of night
only to find that all things had been raped.
Stripped of all fragrance and beauty,
to a bitter sludge
of shapeless grinds.

The Boy I've Ever Been

2011-05-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

She says to me "You're still far and away
the boy you've ever been,"and I want to
stand and flip the table over.
The boy I've ever been was never so
angry to want to flip a table over.

Thanks to everyone who came to the VCC in Philadelphia. Love to you all!
(This poem uses a line from "Dear Avery" by The Decemberists)

Courage

2011-05-20T10:57:00.000-07:00

A woman's courage is often mistaken for insanity
A man's insanity can be mistaken for courage
Making sense of any of this escapes me

For now

Jim Hale
February 9 2011

Studio 84 Vets' Art Exhibition

2011-05-13T15:02:00.000-07:00

Veteran’s Art Exhibit Call for Artists

Studio 84

121 W. Center St.

Whitewater, WI 53190

262-812-7560

info@studio84inc.org

www.studio84inc.org

Dates of exhibit:

July 1-28 2011

Deadlines:

Entries due: June 17

Delivery of art due: June 24

Reception: Friday, July 1 6-7:30 pm

We will be open on July 4 for Whitewater’s parade and festival activities.

Any subject, any medium, submit up to 4 pieces.

Artists must be a veteran.

No entry fee, but donations are always welcome; we are a 501c3 non profit community art studio and gallery.

Donations are tax deductible.

Find out more at studio84inc.org

A War I Brought Back Home.

2011-05-11T08:09:00.000-07:00

War, war is what I get Inside the mind of this Troubled young Vet. when I came home there was fuzzy tone everything seemed to change and Inside I felt alone. Bombs and death were still vey clear, The ringing never stops inside of my ear. The only friend that I could keep was a friend in the form of a drink, Day or night he'd help to kill the fright to numb the pain inside my brain, This war inside is driving me insane. Money and pills are the answer from THEM but all I want is to be ME again.

Jerzzzy

2011-05-09T00:19:00.000-07:00

9/11

Police state new york city

Invasion Of afghanistan

A new american war

Another front on the war on drugs begins

A drug epidemic not of south american origin

But a new trade route explosion of heroin to the east coast

Under the noses of Americans that the TV never televises

For New york may be secure but Jersey was not ready and was never ready for the influx of poppy poison

They call it dirty jersey

and MTV portrays it with their brawling violent show to exploit the notorious state

I got something to say about those fake privileged fools chillin in Seaside

There full of shit of what Jersey really is

No fan of the two of them but Trump your a joke

Obama your a lier but I know your an American

For the jersey shore crew your suspect as new yorkers

I wanna see your Jersey birth certificate of authenticity

Our license plate states say the garden state but for many its the garbage state

Its not the attitude or the women with hair spray and teased up hair

It comes in cellophane bags

75% of blissful street grade purity

The spread of this painkiller has know boundaries

and flat liners hit the hospitals stretctors in regularity

I ain't know hypocrite for when I came home from Iraq a needled dangled in my arm

Theres no escape

I don't know a friend who has not tried it, flat lined, or died from it

I'm hear at this mic for vengeance

To the war in Afghanistan and the government who let the flow of kilos sail the atlantic to the delaware river docks

Those fools turned a blind eye

This is personal

Fuck the war

Fuck the drug war

It never worked in South America and it won't work in this desert barren battle land

This is the trash

This is the dirt

This is the ugly truth

Of a true story

The real reality show of Sleazy Jersey

Hookers, Drugs, STDs, Needles, gambling, poverty, and Job cuts to the poor that are now poorer.

Oh yah and fuck that mother fucker Chris Christie

No better than Scott Walker sitting in his throne in Wisconsin with people under him suffering.

There is always a cause an effect to everything

This is just another secret to the overall reality of war without boundaries.

My event

2011-05-08T07:12:00.001-07:00

Hey I'm having an event on June 11th, 2pm-4pm. Follow the link for details: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=177342772318143

Thanks hope to see ya'll there.

P.S.- I'm still looking for poets to read their work. Email me at ngoodwin07@yahoo.com

My Thoughts on Evil

2011-05-08T07:09:00.000-07:00

As we celebrate in the streets,
A man is dead.
Not a good man, but a man
Nonetheless.
But what is the difference between
Man and monster?
Only history I suppose.
The victor's story is the only one
remembered.
So why not celebrate?
Why not call for more blood
In the streets?
Because the idea is not dead.
Bloodthirsty ideals never seem to die
in human hands.
Wars are big business.
And we are all bathed in the remnants
of blood.
I see my daughter's future painted black
Never to be clean again.
As the chaos sings its chorus of
"Good job!" and "Well done!"
I know of many who have thrown
themselves around the barrel of a gun
Ending it all in the name of liberty.
Was it worth it? All of this celebration
and "anniversaries of remembrance"
Is it worth it to carry ten years a heavy
burden all for the sake of vengeance?
Remember the Nazis celebrated the death
of the Jews, the Romans the Christians,
and now the Christians the Muslims and
I am in the mist of it all, walking a thin line
still living on the fringe.
How's that for remembrances?
We have shown we forget in the blink of an
blind eye. And in this way people more, often
than not, evil has won.

What we've seen

2011-05-04T12:18:00.000-07:00

What we've seen, we'll never forget. What we've done, we'll always regret.
The mind will wander for hours and hours. Unrelenting thoughts from Kabul to Baghdad.
All the while, tossing soccer balls to kids. Then laugh when they fight--
fight to the death over one single ball.
Houses made of shit, tea full of sugar.
Decaying cow carcasses lining the roads.
A surreal moment as you check your soul.

Pleasure

2011-05-04T12:13:00.000-07:00

Some show with a crooked smile--others go for walks that last a mile.
Flowers and babies, puppies and butterflies;
all of these things only last a while.
Images dancing in our dreams, making every person beam.
Smiles or walks--it doesn't matter, just enjoy the small things--and lots of laughter!

Geronimo

2011-05-04T09:40:00.000-07:00

A corpse, shrouded in white and
Resting on a plank, is upended and
Slides away into the eternal dark of
The Arabian Sea,
Falling.

Crowds gather in plazas to
Cheer and wave banners and cry for
More, more, more. They traipse and
Trip and tumble about each other,
Falling.

In the glory of our recent victory
Another young American snaps one
final salute before taking one
Final step from a rooftop,
Falling.

Geronimo.

Osama Dead!?

2011-05-02T07:06:00.000-07:00

This is a big day in history and if you are like me you have a lot of strange and mixed feelings about this. The beauty of poetry is finding a way to express a whole lot of complicated emotions in a succinct way. Write about today, what is your reaction? How do you feel?

Do it, share it!

Joiner Center Summer Workshop

2011-04-29T10:13:00.001-07:00

Warrior Writers once again joins the William Joiner Center for the Study of War and Social Consequences at their annual summer Writers' Workshop. The Joiner Center offers a two-week writers workshop led by a remarkable list of current writers and poets. Warrior Writers founder Lovella Calica will lead veterans' writing workshops and civilian ally training as part of the two week schedule. The Joiner Center graciously offers free tuition to Afghanistan and Iraq veteran applicants, so any Warrior Writers interested are encouraged to apply! The workshop is one or two weeks. Get the schedule and more information here: http://www.joinercenter.umb.edu/writers_workshop/2011_workshop.html.

Video-poem

2011-04-23T10:56:00.000-07:00

I wrote trigger finger last week, and images came to me, so I recited it to a file, and created this 29 sec videopoem.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m86n0L0UTxQ

The door

2011-04-22T08:31:00.000-07:00

The door

My verse and rhyme did start to flowing
With metaphor and thoughts I'm knowing
And yet I knew.. there was something more
What lies beyond the unopened door?
If I look behind it I just might pass
Through the other side of the looking glass
For there are things I might yet find
Release a logjam still confined
I may find visions so sublime
And see the music dance in time
The time was right so I dropped some spores
Quote the raven, grow some more

Warrior Writers Visioning Call

2011-04-21T15:21:00.000-07:00

Everyone check their e-mail for a phone meeting next week. If you want to be on the call and I somehow missed you-just let me know either on here or at amberkaye44@yahoo.com
Hope to hear a lot of voices this next meeting!!

"Thank you for your service"

2011-04-21T10:03:00.000-07:00

When someone thanks me for my service
It leaves me cold and feeling nervous

I'm glad they took the time to speak
But there’s no glory or thanks I seek

I was in the war so long ago
But it was the lies they told that made me go

There's only one thing of you I'd like to ask
Just please make this war be our last

Jim Hale
April 21 2011

Trigger finger

2011-04-18T20:22:00.000-07:00

It followed me throughout my life
A product of the war and strife

My right arm for so long it carried
Long before my wife I married

The force inside my lizard brain
Controls my fist oh please explain

Just who I'm kicking in my sleep
I cant see its in too deep

I made it stop no more to linger
It started with my trigger finger

Jim Hale
April 16 2011

Spice

2011-04-18T12:17:00.000-07:00

Theres a drug thats prescribed in a form that is green and smokeable

And is now being given to those with PTSD

Though on the streets in killeen its out of reach for those in need

So, people go to the local convientence stores to smoke an alternative

An Alternative that works similarly to the miracle drug that became more widely accepted and has been used for centuries.

The fake product is labeled as popery and its in bags that are labeled in deception that say differently.

I can't be ashamed for those who manufacture it for they know its cheaper then genuine therapy.

Douce those pills down with a bottle of whiskey and amplify it ten fold and crawl into a blanket and be so annihilated that the nightmares might haunt you but not wake you.

The effects of these gas station chemists' drug give the uniformed is not fully understood

Its better then the numerous poisons prescribed to those who where the uniform.

Spice up your night solider instead of taking a cocktail of prescriptions that can't be any healthier then what a man behind a gas station counter can give you.

This town, and its ironic signs like, "Beer is cheaper than therapy".

A silent protest to a healthcare system thats failed us all.

Soldiers of Killeen

2011-04-18T12:07:00.000-07:00

First off I'm not saying that I'm some wise man cause I'm not but I've got something to say about this town and waste.

Like many in the town of killeen, I'm a young soldier and I've gone to Iraq for good reason that I can't even think of.

I risked my ass for money that wasn't worth the weight in my own personal suffering.

Did I come back only to see others over-drafted bank accounts.

I wonder whether or not any other GIs realized the worth of the money they've spent.

I'm talking about the four wheeled deployments that they strut down the streets of killeen.

Were they thinking about the custom colored paint job scheme as bullets flew by just shy of them.

My hope for my fellow uniformed individual that the repo-man never comes by to take away their ride.

Call me cheap but I know the worth of money in which I risked my life.

I hope you enjoy showing off your rims in the parking lot while your tanks on E and I drive by.

I love the picture on a nice 1080 hp flat screen TV.

If you ever need a new television I know where to steal one

I'm thinking about getting one myself but I've been waiting a few months for you can always expect a bargain from a soldier back from sand box who never made certain that they could afford it in the first place.

Killeen can be such a big garage sale of greed and shame.

People don't know the worth of their own money unless they've put the hours in

The Army makes an uncanny exception to this old golden rule.

You never have anything to spend while in Iraq

For some of us young ones the paychecks collect and collect.

When you finally got the chance to spend the money it almost feels as though you won the lottery

Its more money then most people have all at once.

My heart goes out to those who lose it all to the simple expensive materialistic desires of the idea of where they see themselves in the future.

As if the tour is over and the job is done

Now they can begin a new life full of Perceived success and total fulfillment.

I am what they call a soldier of killeen and for what its worth I realize that the compensation I've received is not nearly worth my own life.

So, soldiers out their make good of your money and save a little. Be aware that the money you've got was at one point what you earned while you tried to survive.

I'll live with it for the rest of my life

2011-04-18T12:03:00.000-07:00

sluggish, sloppy, and drunkenly numb

The next day i'll put on the uniform...go to work

Its almost over but I'll never let go once I can put my work clothes to rest

For they will live as an aurora around me

My medals will be pinned, dangling from me as if for the world to see but for only me to know I've received

They haunt with anxiety that can't be released

I'll live with them for the rest of my life

My rebirth has just begun with a paper colorfully honoring my departure

Service complete

I'll go home to my wife

I'll pick up a bottle of choice that will contain my remedy hoping to bring back a life lost

Then, fall asleep on the couch with my wife snuggled in the bed we share no longer

For the nightmares will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Why do I breathe when my friends left me, bled out in a bag that I put in a humvee.

This is dedicated to a buddy of mine

My Tool Box

2011-04-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

I carried it, it carried thirty pounds. It was a keeper of lifesaving tools. Gauze, tape, sodium chloride, and tubing for the infussion of such. Needles and band-aids, even a little morphine. Lots of tabs, you know-- the ibuprofen type. The army considers it a cure-all. "Hand it out like candy" every day is Halloween. Don't worry about a thing, especially your liver being worth a damn by age thirty. Tons of gloves-- my one pet peeve, I would go without on certain scenes, but that; that's just me. I always wanted to be a helper of those too scared to be free. I was a medic and it was my tool box. *What did you carry that left a stain on your brain? What did you do with it, and what were and are your feelings about it?

support the troops

2011-04-15T18:26:00.000-07:00

"we just Need to support the troops"
is what they tell me

well, this is from a troop
so listen carefully

what we Need are teachers who understand the history of this country
what we Need is a decent living wage, so people aint cold and hungry
what we Need is bicycle infrastructure spanning this beauteous nation
what we Need are more trees and less playstations
what we Need is a justice system that seeks the truth
what we Need are more books and less boots

what
we
Need

is love

for every woman and man
from southern Louisiana
to the mountains of Afghanistan

Now, it's true
The troops need support

-the support to come home

they need treatment and jobs and love for the soul

see,
war ain't no good
for the human condition
I lost a piece of who I was
on every single mission
and I'm tellin you,
don't thank me for what I've done

give me a big hug
and let me know

we're not gonna let this happen again

because we support the troops
and we're gonna bring these wars to an end

Ash and Bone

2011-04-02T13:22:00.000-07:00

Your deeds swim in my head
So much so the taste lingers
In my mouth

I close my eyes and see
the sight, the horror
I smell the brisk fire
And inhale the dried sand

And,
And,
And,
I wonder how much of me
is truly left.

Being MIA--benefits and downsides

2011-04-01T08:11:00.000-07:00

We all go mia from time to time--either we need to isolate to deal with hard times, or we just get busy and forget to take time for ourselves. When I go mia, I tend to write more. It's usually about what I'm dealing with in my life at the moment. The problem with isolating is that you feel even more alone and don't allow anyone to help you through. It also makes it harder to get back into the groove of things. This is a poem from my latest mia mission--something I've been coping with for a long time. Feel free to post anything you create during your "alone" time! I see your blood from time to time. Cement walkways stained with it... Walls painted red-- I knew you would die judging by the hole in your chest. I see your blood from time to time. It's in my dreams, lights flickering, a girl screams. The walls are stained. She chases me, down the stairs-- never-ending ending stairs Look in the mirror, what do you see? That girl, she could be me... Covered in blood, your blood hands and feet-- uniform, and just me. I feel dirty, wearing his blood for days. I see your blood, from time to time.

Occupation

2011-03-20T12:19:00.000-07:00

I revised a poem I wrote on here a month or so ago, let me know what you think.

We bring the occupation home with us;
Inside our heads the tour
never ends, does it?
We just sit , breathing, and try and fight and feel like
Strangers within our own skin,
Not thinking about what we are doing
we drink, lonely, craving others to
join the occupation of our souls,
as if company could pacify the wounds,
could make the occupation less harsh -
We require “battle buddies” to drink with and watch movies with and
play video games with
inside our occupied
hearts.

We bring the occupation home with us;
Setting up enemy camp inside our rib cage,
within our skulls,
Dwelling in ourselves like aliens, hostile
to our own cause.
Hostile to my cause and
hostile to your cause;
when will we withdraw?
And let our souls live free again?
And let our hearts breathe again?
And let our minds speak again?

If we bring the occupation home with us,
then we never really came home.

I want to be home.

I know you don't mean it

2011-02-28T12:48:00.000-08:00

If you saw the smiles
could you say
the things you do?

Quote, "Nuke the country
make it a parkin lot
we can show'em
Democracy
by buildin
wal-marts!"

Well, I love to break it to you

they have
their own
stores too

sometimes it rains
sometimes it snows
sometimes the skys
are blue

They even have farmers
working their fields
I've been there
I know it's true

One time,
I approached
the mountains
to wash off
in a snowy spring

it reminded me
of Arkansas:

mountains - without the green

I know you speak
from ignorance
your words
you can't understand

The beauty of life is everywhere

even in
Afghanistan

Can't Sleep Much...

2011-02-18T08:34:00.001-08:00

Can't sleep much these days,
My brain seems to have made up its mind to keep the midnight oil burnin'
Regardless of how much I wish I could just put it out.

There is this tension on my soul you see,
It pulls and holds me fast,
Because I am so intrinsically connected
Affected,
By the horrible travesty that humankind tends to be to itself.

I've seen the ascension,
I've seen the ascension,
And for my part, is there any redemption?

Can't sleep much these days,
I keep seeing the faces of those who will never awake again,
How could I have ever taken part in such a thing?

I've seen the ascension,
I've seen the ascension,
And as for my mistaken allegiance, is there any redemption?

I've seen the blood of innocent men run red,
I've seen the blood of innocent men run red,
My god it's just like mine,
My god it's just like mine…

Muralists In Philly, And A New Contest!

2011-02-17T12:21:00.000-08:00

First off, any Warrior Writers who consider themselves muralists, step right up. We're finally putting out our Request For Proposals for the Philadelphia mural project. If you, or someone you know, could tackle this, please drop a line to warriorwriters@gmail.com. I don't have the RFP posted on the website yet, but we're working on it (and will post a link as soon as I do). It's a great opportunity, both for us and the muralist, to work in a city known for the quality and quantity of its mural artwork.

Also, Jan Barry has brought the Nimrod Literary Contest to our attention. They're a (comparatively) prestigious literary journal, and they're looking for submissions for their annual prose and poetry contest. See their site (http://www.utulsa.edu/nimrod/awards.html) for details. This is a great opportunity to spread your voice beyond yourself and make yourself heard.

2011-02-14T15:35:00.000-08:00

For NJ-area Warrior Writers, this powerful exhibition looks like something well worth attending, and maybe even reading or exhibiting some of your work. Check it out!

The Costs of War

A Call for Poetry and Works of Art Depicting the Human and Financial Costs of War

The mounting costs of war over the past decade are staggering. More than 4,436 US troops and over 1 million civilians have been killed in Iraq and over 32,009 US troops have been wounded (www.icasualties.org). Casualties in Afghanistan and Pakistan have also been horrendous. The US has spent over $1 trillion on these wars since 2001. Bergen County, NJ’s portion of that cost to taxpayers is an estimated $6.5 billion (www.costofwar.com). Across America, local and state governments hit by cuts in federal grants are laying off teachers and police officers, cutting funding for schools and colleges. High unemployment in an economy drained by wars and domestic fiscal crises continues to be disastrous for millions of Americans families—and is higher still for young military veterans.

To address this tragic state of our nation, a grassroots presentation on the human and financial costs of war will be held at the Puffin Cultural Forum in Teaneck. The public art exhibit by people in the Northern New Jersey-New York area will be from March 15-April 8, 2011. The exhibit will feature art and poetry by adults and children, war veterans and military family members, about the human and financial costs of war.

On Sunday, March 20, the 8^th anniversary of the invasion of Iraq, there will be a cultural event at the Puffin: Looking at the Costs of War Through the Arts. This event will feature local poets, rap and spoken word artists, singers and musicians.

Here are ways you can participate or help with the exhibit and cultural event:

· Submit your own works of art or poetry. Send an e-mail describing the content and size of your work. Attach a copy or photo if possible.

· Contact math teachers (re the financial costs of war), writing and art teachers to encourage them to have interested students submit work.

· Contact community, veteran, labor, and religious groups to encourage members to submit work.

· Encourage your organization to co-sponsor this event.

· Help with installation of the exhibit or help with publicity.

All works of art should be focused specifically on the human and/or the financial costs of war. There will be a screening of all submissions because of space concerns. For more information, inquiries, or to submit work, write to

Thecostsofwar@gmail.com.

Philadelphia Lit Magazine

2011-02-10T08:57:00.000-08:00

Philadelphia-area Warrior Writers, take a look at this: a perfect opportunity for you to submit some pieces you might have been thinking of or working on. Particularly note the last paragraph: APIARY likes performances of the submitted pieces, so those who are as eager to speak their truths as to write them, grab your pen or your keyboard.

"APIARY is a literary magazine released twice a year in summer and winter. We publish poetry, short stories, creative non-fiction, two-dimensional art, song lyrics, reviews, manifestos, and more.

In order to get published by APIARY, your work must be original. Simultaneous submissions and previously published pieces are fine, as long as you notify us which of your work has been/will be published elsewhere. We will consider submissions for both print and online journals.

Submission Guidelines

Electronic submissions only, sent in .doc format to submissions@theapiarycorp.com. The file name should include your last name. All submissions should be 12-point font and double-spaced. In the top left corner of the title page include a header with your name phone number and email, along with the word count. Multiple submissions are not accepted per reading period except for poetry and artwork. You may submit work in multiple genres, however.

Poetry

We will accept 3 – 5 poems for review. If you are submitting multiple poems, please include them all in one document rather than multiple files.

Short Stories/Novel Excerpts

We accept short stories in varying lengths up to 5,000 words. Shorter works are more likely to find spot in print. If you have a longer piece that you’re dying to have published, send it and we’ll consider serializing it either in print or on our website.

Essays/Non-Fiction

We accept personal essays and non-fiction up to 3,000 words. We’re looking for pieces that focus on positive or thought-provoking experiences, but will consider any well-written essay.

Artwork

You may submit up to 5 pieces of visual art. All artwork must be submitted electronically in JPEG or GIF format with a minimum resolution of 300 dpi. Our print publication is in black and white, except for cover artwork. Minimum uncompressed file size of: 48MB. Maximum compressed file size of: 25MB. Please send files exceeding 25MB via Yousendit, a free large-file sending program.

Youth Submissions

Writers under 18 must download, print, and send in the permission form found here. All signed permission forms should be sent to APIARY, 801 Greenwich St, Philadelphia, PA 19148.

Compensation

We’re a non-profit, self-funded publication. Your compensation will come in the form of a copy of APIARY, a bio in the print magazine and a link to your portfolio, website, or blog on www.theapiarycorp.com. All rights revert to the writers once published. Additional print copies are $5 each. We believe in literature out loud. If your work is chosen for publication, you’ll be asked to participate in a live reading. For this reason we’d prefer writers from the Philadelphia area."

Occupation

2011-02-03T04:44:00.001-08:00

We bring the occupation home with us.
Occupation inside my head,
Occupation inside your head;
The tour never ends, does it?
We just sit and live and try and fight and feel like
Strangers inside of our bodies,
Not thinking about what we are doing
Holistically, in entirety.
We drink and feel alone and crave others to
Join our occupation of our souls,
Like company can desensitize the wounds,
Can make the occupation less harsh -
We need battle buddies to drink with and watch movies with and
Play x-box or playstation inside our
Occupied hearts.

We bring the occupation home with us.
Setting up enemy camp inside our rib cage,
Within our skulls,
Occupying ourselves like strangers, hostile
To our own cause.
Hostile to my cause,
And hostile to your cause,
When will we withdraw?
And let our souls live free again?
And let our hearts breathe again?
And let our minds speak again?

If we bring the occupation home with us,
Then we never really come home.

I want to go home.

Warrior Writers Chicago Workshop

2011-01-20T08:27:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone,

There wil be a Warrior Writers workshop this Friday January 21st at 7pm at the Chicago IVAW office at 3411 W. Diversey.

This will be the first of two workshops before we take up residency at the Mess Hall in Chicago's Rogers Park neighborhood) in February for a few weeks. We'll be kicking that off with an art opening/reading event on February 19th. If you would like to get involved with Warrior Writers Chicago, come to the workshop or contact Pete, Iris, or Jim.

To Cpt. Jason Ambrosino, Jeff Hanks is not alone.

2011-01-09T10:02:00.000-08:00

Leadership: the act or instance of leading; providing direction, purpose, and motivation; selfless sacrifice.

The people do not serve the leader; the leader is a servant to the people.

Late last night I received an email stating Jeff Hanks will be deployed today, against his will at the command of Captain Jason Ambrosino, at 2100 hours.

Jeff Hanks is a 30 year-old, multi-deployment, infantryman struggling with PTSD/TBI and has not only had to fight the enemy over there, but battle his own chain of command for the medical treatment our veterans deserve at home. Captain Jason Ambrosino has not only played a crucial roll in denying him much needed medical care, but is now sending Jeff back to combat with complete disregard to his wellbeing and his family.

To catch up on Jeff Hanks situation go to:

http://www.cbsnews.com/8300-31727_162-10391695.html?keyword=jeff+hanks

This news lit a fire inside of me that brought with it memories of deployments and piss-poor leadership during my enlistment.

I was hesitant to volunteer for my third deployment in OEF (operation enduring freedom) because I was still shook up from the second one - PTSD wasn't talked about much in 2003 and I didn't yet realize I was traumatized from my second deployment.

My command gave it to me like this, "your going to Iraq or Afghanistan, your choice". I already knew the war in Afghanistan and had old battle buddies there. On top of that, I whole heartedly disagreed with the invasion of Iraq, so this was an easy decision for me at the time.

There were also new factors involved in this tour: I had recently been promoted to Sergeant and this time I had a squad to watch out for. I took this duty very seriously because serving was no longer about my personal convictions, it was about providing leadership and protecting those who followed me.

I had been assigned a few men and among them was a young latino private named Garcia, who had recently married. It was days before we were set to deploy and his family came to see him off.

Garcia told me his family would like to meet me, so I went over to his apartment one night for dinner. We ate and talked and as I was leaving his mother grabbed my arms with the ferocity of a mother bear protecting her cub and forced me to look into her tear-filled eyes saying, "you bring my mijo home alive Sergaent George". That was the only order I consciously followed during my third tour. I was 21.

I had marched myself into this personal and emotional hell twice already and felt a great deal of anxiety doing this to others. Every decision I made on the third tour revolved around creating the least amount of impact on those under me as possible. This involved volunteering us for every shit detail I could possibly find in-order to keep us inside the wire. I'd been out there and knew it was full of promises I couldn't keep.

That anxiety is what has me calling into question the competency of Captain Jason Ambrosino and the reason behind the small portion of the letter I have written, which can be read below:

To the attention of Captain Jason Ambrosino,

As an NCO, I gotta tell ya sir, this is not stellar leadership - it's borderline cruel and inhumane. Because of this, I, as a US citizen and veteran, feel you are unfit for duty and should be relieved of your command...

From one soldier to another,
Sgt. Jacob D. George (Airborne)

I will be sending this to Captain Jason Ambrosino and a handful of politicians. The reason for this action is as a citizen I feel we need to call for the removal of Jason Ambrosinos' commission. Our tax dollars pay for his appointed level of responsibility and this act is clearly irresponsible. We have a right to demand his removal and it's our duty as citizens to exercise this right.

If any of you out there feel compelled to join in on this action, below is the contact info for the unit and commander of Jeff Hanks.

Please take the time on this fateful Sunday to use your power as a citizen to support those brave enough to stand up and say Enough.

Contact for the Captain and unit:

CPT Jason Ambrosino
jason.ambrosino@us.army.mil
(270) 798-6517 or 7545 staff duty @ 1-32 CAV
(270) 798-6019 1st BDE, 101st ABN

Help WW gain supporters

2010-12-28T12:11:00.000-08:00

Hey all passing this on from Lynn, please vote for WW to get some love from moveon.org Thanks,

Maggie

http://pol.moveon.org/giving2010/vote/index.html?id=25613-501327-NhQw5Cx&t=3

letters in December

2010-11-28T18:21:00.000-08:00

in December
write me a letter
and I’ll be writing letters to you
write a friend
write someone in Warrior Writers
write a letter
write a letter every week
put a piece of paper in the mail

I’ll miss you but we’ll be staying connected through words
building bridges with words

i'm off to the PI, be in touch in 2011. take care of yourselves, and each other
happy hibernating...

Voices of Veterans Month

2010-11-15T13:49:00.000-08:00

Thursday, November 18th, 2010
Doors open at 6 pm
The National Liberty Museum
321 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, PA.

Free Screening!

Stories from those who have served and the challenges they face when they come home. Following the screening, Mind TV will present a discussion with Marsha Four, Vietnam Vet.

Light refreshments will be served. Please RSVP to Eric efielder@mindtv.org

Warrior Writers is a partner in this event!!!

Do-Over

2010-11-12T17:43:00.000-08:00

How do I not be a veteran?

Can I go back and unwaste

the years spent trying

to win a schoolyard

game of king of the hill?

All that time we

thought we were men,

but couldn’t see we’d never

left the playground and

were still trying to win

the wrong game.

Can I have a do-over

now that I know

what game to play?

I cannot, so with

my identity defined by

my immaturity

I graduate from

soldier to veteran and finally

see how blindly blindingly

mean we were.

I feel like a child

who understands too late

what it means

to hurt someone.

I am better than that now.

Robocop: the Desensitizer

2010-11-11T10:51:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it takes a small set back to personally illustrate how much one changes. Mental back tracking can be a very positive thing when viewed this way. It reveals the slow transformations that often go unnoticed.

I must have watched Robocop over twenty times as a kid and the memories were nothing but cool. Well, we finished up a lively event the other night and were wide awake when we got back to the house, so we decided to watch a movie - one of less than five movies I've watched recreationally since the ride started.

Everything was fine and 80's, just as I remembered it, until the huge crime fighting robot showed up. Then I felt this deep fear bubble up to my chest, a fear I haven't felt in a while.

I knew what was going to happen next, I'd seen it many times. The robot mutilates the demonstrator with a fully automatic machine gun because of faulty programing; it was just following orders.

What I didn't anticipate was a spike in my heart rate and the overwhelming desire to leave the room. It took a lot of focus to sit there and force myself through what seemed like 10-15 seconds of someone being blown apart.

My heart was racing afterwards and eventually slowed. The ultra-violence continued throughout the movie and eventually we all started laughing at it; it was absurd.

The movie finally ended at three in the morning and I instantly fell asleep. The next day I constantly replayed Robocop and my reactions over and over in my head, trying to unravel the situation. I was amazed that as a child I watched this repeatedly without fully understanding the events. This reminded me of a young man that went to war repeatedly, just as ignorant as the child.

The most alarming thing to surface was the laughing. Once I made it past the first violent scene, everything was a little easier to watch - I had been desensitized.

My heart didn't race and I didn't feel the urge to leave. It turned into an absurd, borderline prophetic vision of the modern day - without the robotic technology, yet the robots are present. There was a commercial in the movie for a futuristic game of battleship, but played with nukes and the kid playing the game with his family spoke of fighting on the Pakistan border. This movie was made in 1987.

I often observed and participated in this behavior while serving in the military. We would laugh at terrible things to hide our pain, so we could call each other men.

As I reflected on my actions and feelings from the movie, I initially felt unmanly because of my visceral reaction to violence. I was almost in tears thinking about the boy inside of me watching this repeatedly, knowing what I know now.

That shame is the old cultural programing and it didn't take long for this to surface. I was reminded of the training that lead me to join the military, the cultural training that began before I volunteered for it.

Although it feels like Robocop has been haunting me, it's a very important reminder to myself: I have changed. I love the fact that this movie has effected me so deeply. On a personal level, it illustrates how real the healing process is, even though it usually goes unnoticed by the individual.

This is a solid reminder of how life isn't about constantly moving forward. Sometimes we have to take a couple of steps back to understand where we stand.

Cowboys and Indians

2010-11-09T14:28:00.000-08:00

One of the first things that hit me when I arrived on the Pakistan border was, "as a nation, we've been here before". Now, I'm not referring to the Soviet conflict where we helped train and arm the mujahideen with the help of the Pakistani ISI. I'm referring to the initial invasion of the North American continent, what we now call the United States.

It took many years for me to go back and confront some of the deeper realizations of my experiences in Afghanistan. It took going to college so I could articulate my experiences and living in a very supportive community that listens.

Ultimately, I had to go back and face the facts: we, as a nation, are still erasing indigenous peoples and cultures to this day, in the name of freedom - and I had played a roll in this history of culture assassination. There is no difference between the erasing of the Lakota nation through framing them as 'terrorist' and the erasing of the simple society constructs in Afghanistan, in an attempt to transplant democracy.

I spoke with many afghans there and here in the states, and the general consensus is the tribe never asked for democracy; the tribe has it's own system of government.

Some people say that this is what I get for trying to rationalize an irrational situation, but to me it's much more. I now view my past warmongering as a mental health issue and think we as a nation are mentally ill.

It's not all doom and gloom though, behavioral disorders can be corrected if we'll just acknowledge our behavior. I did it on a personal level and I think as a nation, we can do the same.

As a child I was taught war games and I've played those games for most of my 28 year life. This is why I deeply value my 3 tours in Operation Enduring Freedom. As Sgt. George, I gained an understanding of life outside the box I was raised in.

Until recently, I was always the cowboy - but now, I will forever be the Indian.

poem I wrote today and Veteran's Day assignment

2010-11-05T14:45:00.000-07:00

the red bullets
couldn't get the red bullets to go away

No, I'm not talking about the ones he had that were covered in his best friend's blood
which were given to him
they were to be used
they were to be used to kill those two men
Iraqi men
in Najaf
who were sitting next to each other
on the ground
along the side of a building

At least, that's how I remember picturing it in my mind
when he told me about it
I'm trying to remember if he told me in the sun of the day-time
or if this was a night-time story, told in the dark

Yes, I think it was
and now I'm wondering if it happened in the daylight or nightdark

did he aim his sights
on these men
in daylight
or moonlight

See, these are things you get hung up on when you consider giant crazy things like this
because the rest is so overwhelming

I wonder, what it feels like to carry that
how often he remembers it
where does he remember it in his body

his trigger finger
his shoulder

maybe at the smell of
or at the sight of

his triggers I can only imagine

I wonder, if any of ours are the same
Likely not since mine include strange things like bathroom doors, quarters and orange slices

while his may include
loud sounds like fire-crackers or trash on the side of the road

try to imagine fearing that trash on the side of the road could blow up on you and kill you
and your friend

I can’t necessarily feel that in my bones like they do, but one thing I can do is listen

----------
Writing Exercise

If you could get someone to listen to you, what would you say today, on "Veteran's Day?" That someone can be a certain someone or a kind of someone, the president or your mother, a soul you never met or a liar you wish you hadn't. So, imagine they're ears are ready, to listen...

(of course utilizing video, photography, drawing, music, etc. is exciting and encouraged. post in whatever forms and in as many as you want)

LC

Cinquain for Fear

2010-10-28T23:26:00.000-07:00

Fearful

Alert, Unsure

Fighting, Fleeing, Freezing

Loopy stomach, Rising panic

Phobic

Intrusive Thoughts exhibit in Chicago, Veterans Day - pls send submissions

2010-10-19T11:40:00.000-07:00

Hey all,
I was/am gonna submit works from the website but I figured I would put a call out to see if anyone wanted to submit anything and I can add it to the mix. It can be writing or visual arts. Please send it to me directly (and post it on the blog).
So yeah, the title is self explanatory...I think a lot of things could fit into this...

Also, these are the questions we'll need to answer to put with our collection of works. If anyone wants to answer them and post them here or send them to me, feel free. I would love to have this stuff by tomorrow, Wednesday if possible. Sorry such late notice. I'm working on trying to ask for help/assistance/participation more often...but also not sure how/when/what people are able to give.

Artist statement in relation to the theme "Intrusive Thoughts"

"Why does our generation of veteran art need to be shown?"

much love,
LC

Exercise your form

2010-09-29T18:05:00.002-07:00

So, Lovella and I made an agreement while we met up in this beautiful and ugly place we both came from. We agrees to keep working to be here for each other and for all of you and to help this community grow. From now on if we can keep our heads above water and if you all can help us feel like it's worth it we will post exercises every Wednesday. Lovella is posting creative exercises and I am posting different forms. Use the form for the exercises, or do the exercises any way you want, or say whatever you want practicing the form. Whatever you want just make the time, take the time and write. This community is important and we need to care for it and for ourselves. Here's an simple form for starters and remember you always have freedom to color outside the lines:

Cinquain: 5 line poetry

Syllabic verse form. Gradually increasing number of syllables in each line until the last line, which returns to two syllables

Line 1: 2 syllables, one word giving the title

Line 2: 4 syllables, two words that describe the title

Line 3: 6 syllables, three words that express action

Line 4: 8 syllables, four words that express feeling

Line 5: 2 syllables, one word that gives the title a different name

Afraid

queazy, stinging

question, wonder, worry

feeling failure creeping closer

frozen

fear and loathing

2010-09-29T10:37:00.000-07:00

We all live with fear, some more than others, and some times and places more than others. I recently went home to Michigan where I'm from, and where I left. One of the many reasons I don't live there is because the old man that abused me when I was young lives there. I haven't seen him since I moved to Philly, over six years ago. This is what I wrote on the airplane the day that I left town. After you read it, write about something (or someone) that you fear. I think that this honesty about our fears makes them easier to bear, at least then, we're not also hiding. Much Love.

The day I arrived to Cadillac, I got a scare that stuck with me, slithering under my skin till I left town. I was at Meijer with my brother, we had just gotten in the door and for a second, it looked like he saw someone he recognized. But he did not say anything or walk over to anyone, we kept moving. The Meijer in Cadillac is like many small town stores and if you go there, there's no question that you'll see someone you know, if not a few people. The question lingers...who will it be? Oftentimes the conundrum is whether or not you stop and talk, and for how long. Or, do you avoid them altogether?

When I thought my brother saw someone and went the other way, my skin turned to sand and I was filled with fear, anger and grief. It occurred to me that it could happen. That it was possible that I would see him. I might run into the disaster that shattered me. He could be standing in that store and I would have to look at him.

What would I do?

Thank the goddesses he was not there, or at least that I did not see him. But now I'm wondering how I've gotten by these past few years not running into him and it makes me scared about going back. I'm taking a risk every time I go home, every time I go to the store, every time I walk down the street. And I'm also standing up for my life. I am determined to make the choices I want and to spend time with the rest of my family. He will not take any more from me than he already has. I will continue to battle my fears and face them with courage and strength.

LC

What are your comfort items???

2010-09-16T07:05:00.000-07:00

When living such an up and down and all over the place life due to the effects of Iraq, one must find comfort items that help them get through the rough patches, or even just every day comforts to continue your healing process.

My comfort items are first and foremost: a comfortable environment. Without this, it's hard for me to function. I also look for comfort in coffee and the sweet lovins from all my pooches. A hair cut can be comforting, counseling is comforting, and reading is when I'm at my calmest. I love to read, then get inspired to write as well. The love and support of my family and friends is definitely comforting for myself. And sometimes, good ol fashioned outreach to other members can make me feel awesome!!! It's nice to know I have a second family in a sense, to help me and for us to be there for each other just the same. Thank you Lovella for creating safe spaces for us and allowing us to just get some things off our chest when a comforting workshop rolls around.

For this weeks writing prompt, we would like to know what comforts you????

America: You Gotta Have Our Back

2010-09-13T10:45:00.001-07:00

Reposted from The Huffington Post:

As veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, we have watched with increasing alarm the rise of anti-Islamic rhetoric within the U.S. We've seen attacks on Muslim citizens, intolerance toward religious expression, and even threats of book burning. All this goes against the values we risked our lives to protect.
Story continues below

We have served beside Muslim soldiers, Marines, sailors, and airmen, as well Muslim translators, who risked their own lives and the lives of their families to help us. For the servicemembers currently deployed, the success of their mission and the safety of their lives depends on a basic respect for, and interaction with, Islamic culture.

Those who would vilify and target Muslims on grounds of their religious belief not only show a deep disrespect for American values, but put American lives at risk. It's easy to burn a Koran when you won't feel the heat.

We speak as infantrymen, truck drivers, medics, artillerymen, supply sergeants, and civil and public affairs officers, professions whose success depends on good relations with a deeply religious Muslim population. That population sees the American flag we wear on our uniform and judges us, not only by our actions but on the values our citizens uphold. We must be able to point back home to the values we represent. Chief among those values is our courage as a nation to peacefully and openly engage with differences of culture and religion.

What is a squad leader in Kandahar supposed to say to an Afghan woman who asks him why we want to burn her holy book?

When citizens here participate in hateful rhetoric and intolerance toward Muslims, it leaves soldiers over there exposed.

America, you gotta have our back.

Roy Scranton, US Army Artillery, Iraq
Philip Klay, USMC Public Affairs Officer, Iraq
Perry O'Brien, US Army Medic (Airborne), Afghanistan
James Redden Jr., USAR Journalist, Iraq
Joshua Casteel, US Army Linguist, Iraq
Logan Mehl-Laituri, US Army Forward Observer, Iraq
Hart Viges, Army, Infantry (Airborne), Iraq
Jason M Wallace, US Air Force Maintenance, Kuwait
Chantelle Bateman, USMC Supply, Iraq
Geoffrey Millard, US Army Infantry, Iraq
Nicholas Przybyla, US Navy Cameraman, Pakistan Coast
John McClelland, US Army Medic (Ranger), Afghanistan and Iraq
Andrew Johnson, US Army Radar Technician, Iraq
Daniel Paulsen, US Army Medic (Airborne), Afghanistan
Fernando Braga, US Army Supply, Iraq
Maggie Martin, US Army Signal, Iraq
Adam Kokesh, USMC Civil Affairs, Iraq
Lisa Zepeda, US Army Lab Technician, Iraq
Brian Turner, US Army Infantry, Iraq
Matt Gallagher, US Army Cavalry Officer, Iraq
Michael Anthony Ruehrwein, US Army OR Tech, Iraq
Erika Sjolander, US Army Supply, Iraq
Bryan Reinholdt, US Army Apache Maintenance, Iraq
Jason Chambers, US Air Force Air Freight Specialist, Iraq
Joe Wheeler, US Army Surgical Assistant, Iraq
Ash Woolson, US Army Combat Engineer, Iraq
Chris Hellie, US Army Cavalry Officer, Iraq
Sara Beining, US Army Intelligence Analyst, Iraq
Helen Gerhardt, US Army Transport, Iraq
Garett Reppenhagen, US Army Cavalry Scout, Iraq

this is the sound of a dropping bomb

2010-09-09T21:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the world resonates in my ears and I get tired and I get headaches. I get incredibly depressed for brief periods of time, usually less than a day, and my head pounds, and I really just can't move. I'm glad my daughter is two and not an infant anymore, honestly. I don't know what comes over me, and today my explanation is that I'm newly divorced (finally) and totally crushed and pissed off. Just, devestated at the betrayal in my marriage. Then, I'm also in a relationship right now with a really wonderful guy, and I sometimes wonder if i'm just treading water until it all blows to shit. So,
today I'm cynical. Here we go.

love is a something darkly khaki

this sounds like the tv on in the background

love smells like leftover pizza and dish soap

this tastes like kamikazes and pbr coming up my throat

looking like smeared make up the morning after i can't remember

feeling like shit

on the other hand

love can be purple

an indie band

a baby fresh from the bath

fruit smoothies

and mountain-scapes in the distance

feeling like its worth it

More War and the City

2010-09-09T07:43:00.000-07:00

Here are parts two and three of my essay, "War and the City," currently running in the NY Times.

Also, though I've been blissfully ignorant of the news the last two weeks, thanks to being off the grid, I couldn't miss "US soldiers 'killed Afghan civilians for sport and collected fingers as trophies'" and "Obama Declares an End to Combat Mission in Iraq."

Time to celebrate, I guess.

(x-posted to caribou)

Meditation and War and the City

2010-09-09T07:42:00.000-07:00

I returned Sunday to Brooklyn from a 10-day Vipassana meditation course in Massachusetts. I wanted to take the course because it had been spoken highly of by friends, and also because I felt the need to set aside some time to think through and process the changes and chaos of the last four years since getting out of the Army. It's difficult to know what to say about the course except that it was a lot more work than I expected, and also much more intense and amazing than I could have ever imagined. I'm glad I did it, and I'm going to do it again--even though it's a Buddhist practice and there's a lot about Buddhism that I find troublesome or disagreeable (its essential nihilism, the idea of dissolving the self, the moral hair-splitting that accepts eating plants and animal products but not animals themselves, and the metaphysics of kalapas, reincarnation, and karma, for example), the practice is good and has given me a powerful tool to live better, acheive my goals, and stop being so fucking crazy. Recommended.

Also, when I came back to the city, I found that the first part of my piece "War and the City" had been published in the New York Times vets blog. Very exciting. Check it out.

(x-posted at caribou)

Drowned

2010-09-08T15:06:00.000-07:00

Guilt, like slate
mumbling and gurgling between a clash of blue and grey
carrying with it the stench of dead fish
in a wave of salty sea water
that is as transparent as it is deep.
Guilt, like the weight of a thousand oceans.

This emotion/sensory poem is in response to the following exercise:
1st line: Name a feeling/emotion, finish the line with a color word
2nd: Tell what it sounds like
3rd: Tell what it smells like
4th: Tell what it tastes like
5th: Tell what it looks like
6th: Tell what it feels like

Writing Exercise: emotions/sensory poem

2010-09-08T11:36:00.000-07:00

We did this at the women's retreat...

1st line: Name a feeling/emotion, finish the line with a color word
2nd: Tell what it sounds like
3rd: Tell what it smells like
4th: Tell what it tastes like
5th: Tell what it looks like
6th: Tell what it feels like

Here is the one I wrote as an example
grief is black
it sounds like tears, hysteria
smells like hospitals
it tastes like the stinging blood on a bitten tongue
it looks like a room full of caskets
and it feels, like suffocation

Much Love,
LC

P.S. I didn't make this one up, and I don't know who did.

Something new I'm toying with

2010-09-08T07:59:00.000-07:00

I carried it,
it carried 30 pounds.

It was a keeper of lifesaving tools.

Gauze, tape, sodium chloride
and tubing for the infusion of such.

Needles and band-aids,
even some tabs.

You know--
the ibuprofen type.
The Army considers it a cure-all.

Hand it out like candy.
Every day is like Halloween!
Don't worry about a thing, especially not your liver
being worth a damn by the time you're forty.

Tons of gloves,
my one pet peeve.
I would go without on certain scenes,

but that's just me...

I always wanted to be
a helper of those,
too scared to be free.

War News Radio

2010-08-25T05:39:00.000-07:00

Go visit this site and click on Jessie Arian reports to hear our interview!!!!

http://www.warnewsradio.org/2008/08/19/warrior-writers/

October Jamboree Workshop

2010-08-25T05:37:00.000-07:00

Keep this in mind--no dates yet but they are soon to follow!!! This will be great and probably in Philly :D

Morning Ramblings...work in progress

2010-08-19T05:28:00.000-07:00

When did I lose the capacity to cry?
When did my tears dry up like wells in the desert heat,
Like sleeping volcanos afraid of the destruction they would spew forth on their countrymen should they choose to live,
Like the desert cough that comes from an angry night only wanting the rains to fall and make earth give fruit.
When did I lost the capacity to cry?
When did my strength become a wall over which you could only wave a flag to indicate your love,
Where a mother's hug is shielded in a layer of kevlar and grit
Where a brother's send-off is masked in a feast of gluttony and fear
When sleep is only a rock and a pill away
near the rusted metal and debris that serves as blankets for my shadow.
When did I lose the capacity to be?
Like a sculpture asked only to resemble
to endure,
to represent.
When did I lose?

Something I just found in my notebook from a retreat

2010-08-11T08:36:00.000-07:00

All mixed up,
nothing cohesive.

You are strong!

my life
unraveling.

Couldn't lose it-
their lives depended on me-only me
if they wanted to live.

Countless wounds...
some big, some fleshy, gaping holes--
some where they looked like we
were trying to kill

his soul...

Comments/suggestions always welcome!!

Publishing Opp

2010-08-09T10:05:00.001-07:00

Don't forget the deadline for this is 15 August!!! Would be great to have some WW work included. Also, if you have a workshop--let us all know how it went. I know the Brooklyn workshop recently added a new member to our org!! That's great!

Writing Workshop in Brooklyn

2010-07-30T06:29:00.000-07:00

Tonight from 4-630p there will be a writing workshop and pizza for all interested. Maurice will be leading this workshop so go and have an amazing time!!! It's at the Brooklyn Vet Center....

Awesome opportunity to be published!!!

2010-07-27T05:43:00.000-07:00

Thanks!

Roy Scranton

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

Do you write fiction? Did you serve in Iraq or Afghanistan?

We are Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans looking for short stories
(1500-7000 words) by other military veterans who served in Iraq and/or
Afghanistan. We seek high quality, literary fiction that touches in
some way on military or wartime experience, either downrange or back
home, for an anthology of veterans’ writing. National Book
Award-winner Colum McCann will be editing. Please send your story as a
word document or pdf to gwotstories@gmail.com, along with a brief bio
specifying your publishing credits and military service, by August 15,
2010. We seek original stories or reprints (if you own rights).

gwotstories@gmail.com

American Soldier

2010-07-19T20:45:00.000-07:00

A poem about what it means to be an American Soldier.

American Soldier

When I say... "I am an American Soldier"

I'm not shouting I'm better than you,

I'm whispering, I was a boy, and now

find myself a man.

When I say... "I am an American Soldier"

I don't speak only of this with pride

I'm also confessing that I stumble,

make mistakes,

And need competent leadership to

help guide me,

So I in turn,

can be a competent leader

When I say... "I am an American Soldier"

I'm not trying to be strong,

I'm professing that I am weak, and

need the strength of my peers and

country,

to help carry me on.

When I say... "I am an American Soldier"

I'm not bragging of past successes,

I'm admitting I have failed in the past,

admitted the mistakes,

and tried to right the wrongs.

When I say... "I am an American Soldier"

I'm not claiming to be perfect,

My flaws are far too visible,

But my country needs me,

and I soldier on.

When I say... "I am an American Soldier"

I can still feel the sting of pain,

from seeing those that I care about die,

While we fight for those that we love.

I have my share of heartaches,

So I call upon the American People

To help guide our soldiers, when home.

When I say... "I am an American Soldier"

I'm not saying anything,

I'm just a simple man,

Who was called upon by his country,

to fight.

By: Michael Anthony, Author of: Mass Casualties: A Young Medic's True Story of Death, Deception, and Dishonor in Iraq. Available at your local bookstores, or online at: www.MassCasualties.com

(Originally inspired by a Carol Wimmer poem. )

REhumanization

2010-07-17T20:06:00.000-07:00

First, this piece would not have been made without the inspiration of a brilliant artist named Annie Vought (sorry for the rip-off). Please check out her work at her site: www.annievought.com

I am also indebted to Drew Cameron, Drew Matott, and Chris Arendt at the Combat Paper Project: www.combatpaper.org

I created this piece using what I prefer to call Service Paper since I am not a combat veteran. I used one of my old military uniforms to make the paper, then I hand-cut it using an Xacto knife.

I spent 12 years wearing a military uniform and feel that most of that time was spent learning how to kill and hate other people for reasons I am still struggling to understand. Throughout this process of dehumanization of the "enemy," I think I also learned to dehumanize myself. This piece is an attempt to begin the process of returning, not only from the place in myself that said it was OK to view others as less than human, but from the place in myself that said I was OK with doing that. Having dehumanized myself and others, I am now trying to rehumanize myself and others.

With that in mind, I chose to use the simplest expression of love I could think of and repeat it, in my own handwriting, across 12 lines on a sheet of paper. Each line represents one year of military service. I want people who view the piece to see themselves reflected in the mirror, so they will know that I am speaking directly to them, and also to have an image of themselves in front of them as they read the words, "I love you" over and over and realize that they are worthy of their own love.

Part 2 of "So much to say"

2010-07-16T07:25:00.000-07:00

Musters of color
dark deep colors
no smiles to be seen.

It was scary,
at least to me.

Things have to get better...

from black to grey--
green
is next.

This is like a mini-series of well, love poems actually. But not happy, sappy poems--truth in writing from within...hope you all can pull from an experience and write a small collection of the type--chap book could be an awesome project for any writer!!!

So much to say........

2010-07-14T10:04:00.000-07:00

To you right now.
One of these days, we shave--
an evil fat clown watches...
and hearts are sad.

Walking, walking, questioning how
people seem so interested,
bound.

By what this place has to
offer. Laughter has a lot of heavy
footed that, brings a whole new hour
will allow for nothing correct--fun and free.

Never knowing just how much on the nights
you always get the most sleep.
Freedom, justice for all.

Thought coming here might need to borrow
time to just sit...
and one to say it all.

ARV Proposed Title

2010-07-12T07:57:00.000-07:00

The Chicago Warrior Writers are participating at a local 2-day conference in early fall: Art in Response to Violence. The proposal for the conference is completed except for a title. The proposed title will be the "theme" of the collection and all the work (written word, photos, paintings, and any other installation) will be focused on this theme/title.

So far, Pete has proposed "Coming Home".

We'd like to get a few more suggestions and then choose one. If you don't have a suggestion but would like to second Pete's, respond with that too. We will be finalizing this by midnight tonight and I will submit the proposal first thing tomorrow morning.

Any folks not in the area that would still like to contribute, please contact Pete--(I'm sure he won't mind :)Then we will be on the road to creating an inspiring installation of Art in Response to Violence--and that will be a rewarding journey!

Semper Fidelis.

Brothers

2010-07-10T06:40:00.000-07:00

I wrote this about (an actual experience) how we can sometimes pull each other out of a rut just by being there. I think it's about brother/sisterhood and is appropriate since many of us are connecting in Austin this weekend. Those of us who couldn't make it miss you!

Brothers

We step off the train in our most
Convincing we’re-doing-just-fine disguise with
The cinder-block feet of men whose spirits are
Heavy under the artificiality of
Our swagger and the damp light and
The same greasy grit of guilt and shame
That covers the subway walls

Lost in our heads on parallel staircases
The corners of our eyes issue challenges to
Our legs as we race skyward
Away from such a thick black dust
We return for a moment, our
Chests out and craned necks,
Laughing into the sunshine of our youth

Shout-Outs!!!!

2010-07-09T07:29:00.000-07:00

Hey all you writers and non-writers can take a little time to remember who is at the convention and support them! We should give shout-outs everyday, all of us--once a day. LOL Yea! And blog more......peace

Withdrawaling...

2010-07-08T09:52:00.000-07:00

Since my last post I have missed the William Joiner Workshop and also the IVAW convention. BUT I am back and strong. I'm armed to get you all blogging more please!! Especially blog us stuff from the convention or something like that. We can chat anout it here and such!!!

dark, deep colors
no smiles
to be seen.

Scary, at least to me.
"This has got to get bettter....."

From black to gray, green is next........

William Joiner Recap

2010-06-25T16:38:00.000-07:00

Boston was amazing. I want to give a shout out to all the amazing people, veterans and supporters who made our time together so wonderful and powerful. You inspire and enrich me. I am eager for all the awesomeness that is to come from Warrior Writers Boston. I see a chapbook in the future, I'm excited to read it. Please post your writings from the workshop asap so you can share it with everyone and I can get my eyes on it. Ya know, when you can look at something, it settles in a different way. I look forward to it and I'm sure everyone else will be quite pleased. What a great performance we had. Take care of yourselves and we'll be in touch! More to come...

Ghosts

2010-06-22T00:20:00.000-07:00

This comes from a recent Warrior Writers workshop we did in Chicago. It's called "Ghosts."

Infantry boots pound the forest

Heavy from mud encrusting with the

Phantom of their prey

Sand grinds eternally at their soles as they

Kick down the midnight doors of apparitions that

Fall with the dust settling in their eyelets

A stray strand of concertina long buried in the clay

Gouges a toe as they

Run for cover from the shadow of fear

Infantry boots ask no questions on the run

They protect the feet and are each morning expected

To tell nothing of the day before

They are wiped, brushed, polished, shined, and buffed to

Create an illusion of youth, but beneath the polish or deep

In the tongue is always a speck with a story to tell

familiar taste

2010-06-19T19:52:00.000-07:00

Taste
Thousands of years of culture-
one struggle after another-
a different way of life.

Taste
Bringing back a flood of memories-
my senses alive-
my heart raw with exposure.

Taste
The bitter biting flood of remorse;
remembering how wrong I was.

Taste
My salty tears as she replies, "I thank God for everything".
The sentiment is familiar.

Hey all, I'm here in Chicago with some great brothers and sisters. I want to take this back and work on it but I thought I'd share it in it's freshness. This was inspired by a dinner prepared for us by an amazing Iraqi woman. Much love people. Holla if you hear me and if you hear me write and share. We need this community.

Memorial Day

2010-06-02T03:45:00.000-07:00

Another thing that I realized recently, something I have done for several years now. I hide from Memorial Day and all Memorial Day related activities. I even avoid people who knew I was in Iraq so they won't thank me for serving. There's some food for my brain thought. I know why I hide from July 4th... its noisy and sounds like we're being attacked a bit... or a lot. Memorial Day, however... I just pretend isn't a day. Its just a really AWESOME Monday. Its a break from Mondays at the office. Thanks.