The Valentine Peace Project

Bob Potter
Arlington West, Santa Barbara
October, 2007  

Exactly three thousand white crosses
Symmetrically fixed in rows of forty-eight
Aligned at attention across a sandy beach

Vastly understate the reality.
Fleeting symbols of a Sunday afternoon,
Garnished with California seagulls, and a soft breeze
Coaxing tiny sailboats from the yacht harbor,
They shine in the sunlight, astonishing the tourists.

Passersby from LA and the Valley, gawking New Yorkers,
Aussies and Londoners, Dutchmen and Turks,
Gabblers in Farsi, Japanese, Hindi
And all varieties of Spanish pause to contemplate
The irresistible photo opportunity of Death.

As the digital cameras whiz, zip and flash,
Catching the poignant sight, disposing of its brief shock,
Children wonder if there are bodies in the sand,
Then, reassured and disappointed, are led off for an ice cream.

If there were three thousand deaths here
Instead of these chaste memorial place markers,
Three thousand rotted blood-soaked dismembered corpses
Of former American boys and girls from the small towns and barrios,
The squandered assets of bemedaled Generals
Riddled with bullets, blown to pieces, mouths agape
Strewn chaotically, catastrophically across an invasion beach
Of reality, crashed in our midst in a terrible tsunami
Flooding the beaches and the streets, dashed
Across our suburban lawns, stinking up the schoolyards,
Polluting the supermarkets, poisoning the churches,
Assaulting our ears, offending our nostrils, raping our eyes
With an obscene actuality not seen on TV —
This atrocity dutifully unleashed on our orders — well then,
Something would have to be done about it.

But as it is, the crosses and the grizzled veterans
Who tend them like a flowered garden of regret
Are the matter of a brief moment
For onlookers with other destinations,
And the ignorant carnage grinds on,
Eleven time zones away, receding

Into the forgetful future of a careless empire.

Jessica Ahern
Paul Revere Middle School
Los Angeles

Can a century-old tradition start anew?

Will the hearts be replaced?

A day when children will share, a

Nation will come together,

All on Cupids special day?

Instead of chocolate, would people 

Give money to charity instead?

Restaurants, movies, and flower shops

Would have an all-time low, because

Everyone would skip work to help out

The homeless

A day when the president would order

12,000 meals to be given to the less-

Fortunate

A day when no tears would be shed, just

The ones of pure joy

A time where everyone would care about each

Other.

To forgive, all in harmony.

A day where someone else is a top

Priority.

A universal peace day

Nomi

This one carnation honors those killed in action one year ago today.
February 14, 2007 

Army Pfc. Branden C. Cummings, 20, of Titusville, Fla.; assigned to the 1st
Battalion, 12th Cavalry Regiment, 3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Fort Hood,
Texas; died Feb. 14 in Baqubah, Iraq, when an improvised explosive device exploded
near his vehicle during combat operations.

Army Spc. Ronnie G. Madore Jr., 34, of San Diego; assigned to the 1st Battalion,
12th Cavalry Regiment, 3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Fort Hood, Texas; died
Feb. 14 in Baqubah, Iraq, when an improvised explosive device detonated near his
vehicle. Also killed were Sgt. John D. Rode and Sgt. Carl L. Seigart.

Army Sgt. John D. Rode, 24, of Pineville, N.C.; assigned to the 1st Battalion, 12th
Cavalry Regiment, 3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Fort Hood, Texas; died Feb. 14
in Baqubah, Iraq, when an improvised explosive device detonated near his vehicle.
Also killed were Spc. Ronnie G. Madore Jr. and Sgt. Carl L. Seigart.

Army Sgt. Carl L. Seigart, 32, San Luis Obispo, Calif.; assigned to the 1st
Battalion, 12th Cavalry Regiment, 3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Fort Hood,
Texas; died Feb. 14 in Baqubah, Iraq, when an improvised explosive device detonated
near his vehicle. Also killed were Spc. Ronnie G. Madore Jr. and Sgt. John D. Rode.

Marine Lance Cpl. Daniel T. Morris, 19, of Crimora, Va.; assigned to 2nd Battalion,
3rd Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division, III Marine Expeditionary Force, Kaneohe
Bay, Hawaii; died Feb. 14 while conducting combat operations in Anbar province,
Iraq.

Army Sgt. First Class Allen Mosteiro, 42, of Fort Worth, Texas; assigned to the 1st
Squadron, 7th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, Fort Hood, Texas;
died Feb. 14 in Baghdad of wounds sustained when his unit came in contact with the
enemy using small-arms fire during combat operations Feb. 13 in Taji, Iraq. ***

I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier.
I brought him up to be my pride and joy.
Who dares to place a musket on his shoulder,
To shoot some other Mother's darling boy?
Let nations arbitrate their future troubles,
It's time to lay the sword and gun away,

There'd be no war today,
If mothers all would say:

Ann Glyn (1917 or earlier)  (submitted by Pieternel Debie - Amsterdam)

Ik bracht mijn zoon niet groot om als soldaat te strijden,
Maar om mijn trots en steun te zijn en wijs en goed.
Wie waagt het met een zwaard zijn handen te ontwijden,
Waardoor een dier'bre zoon van and'ren sterven moet?
Laat arbitrage ons voor zulk een ramp behoeden,
Het is geen tijd meer voor gevecht en moord,
Geen oorlog zou meer op deez' aarde woeden,
Als uit de mond der Moeders werd gehoord:

"Ik bracht mijn zoon niet groot om als soldaat te strijden".

Dear St Valentine
Your martyrdom resounds
Through the centuries
An impassioned heart
Guilty only of love

How fiery your flame
Defying laws of the land
A beacon of freedom
To the human spirit
Enslaved by evil tyranny

In this capsule of time
We celebrate your gift
However vaguely remembered
By romantics and poets
Your love essence remains

Yet we only know it now
As a dress rehearsal
For our sentient nature
Clothed in superficial colours
Of glamour and illusion

But a higher love beckons
One we will yet experience
On all planes consciously
The magnet of the heart
Will bless the sacred union

Even as I write
The supreme Lord of Love
Prepares His second coming
We await in awe the ultimate impact
Of unconditional love fulfilled

Anna Mosby Coleman

Let
Peace rain down upon the earth
Strong and sweet
Quenching the fires of
War
Lust and
Envy.

Let
Love rise up from the soil
Clean as dew
Touching the breath of a new day
Holy with kisses
For enemies
No longer.

Let
Joy wrap  arms around this world with
Sisters and brothers
Hugging hard hearts soft
Breaking bitterness, shame & fear
Tears no longer
stinging.

Let
Kindness whisper loudly in our ears
And deafen weapons to silence.
While anger is still
Until we
Only hear
Singing.

Sharon Hope

I will smile at a stranger
Be kind to someone who is . . not
Hug someone - just cause
Just for today I will look
Beyond my Needs
And see those needs of
Someone next to me

I will make a point of
Bettering someone's day and
Let them know that they're special

Just for today I give myself the
wondrous gift of giving to others
for no reason

Maybe not just for today . .

Tammy Nuzzo-Morgan

Like Abraham we offer up our young
lying them upon the altar of war.
Our purest, our strongest, our best
all so ripe for the killing.

When first presented & placed in our arms
to be examined by shaking hands
no thought of sacrificial lamb crossed our minds.
Now our creations take up arms
that we have placed into their willing hands.

I tell you this
If I had known I gave life to
nothing more than war fodder
I would have pinched his nose shut
& covered his mouth with my hand
until his sweet life ebbed away
instead of having my child brought home
swaddled in our country’s flag
resting in this metal cradle.