Larry Kerschner is the poet Laureate for Veterans for Peace Rachel Corrie Chapter and has written a few books of poetry including Grave Lines and United States Military Diplomacy: From Wounded Knee to Afghanistan. Prolific writer of Letters to the Editor.
His blog can be followed at: larrywrites.livejournal.com
In his own words: I work as a family nurse practitioner in a rural medical clinic. I am a Vietnam Vet and a member of Veterans for Peace. I am also member of Fellowship of Reconciliation and Voices in the Wilderness. I try to live my life according to the teachings of Jesus Christ. This leads me to oppose all violence (personal, economic and governmental) and to lean toward anarchy. My goal in life is re-union with the Transcendent.
I began writing poetry as a child but didn’t take it seriously until I started trying to understand all that I had gone through while a soldier in Vietnam. I was in the Infantry and while I was in war I did what I needed to do in order to survive. It wasn’t until several years after returning to the U.S. that I began to gain some perspective. I developed great anger and sorrow over what I had been forced to do by a society that is for the most part willfully ignorant of the realities of the world. Although I can claim personal historical and political ignorance prior to going to war, I judge myself as lacking moral and ethical strength for not opposing what my society was doing in that war. Since then, I have through reflection, study, discussion, association with other military veterans and peacemakers, and the love of my family started to come to grips with both my personal and my nation’s history.
In the Christian tradition there is a call for repentance based on a Greek word etavoia which I understand has a core meaning to “turn around and take another look.” My poetry tends to be “in your face” and offends some people. This is a result of my passionate wish for people to turn around and take another look at what is going on all around us. I hope this second look can help others with their own healing and with the healing of our common human community.”
the smell of war
the war was black and white
at first but then
in living color red and yellow and khaki green
brought into the living room but what was always missing
was the smell of war
my war smelled
of dying vegetation eau de agent orange
burnt gunpowder and burnt people
dark blood sweet and warm
piss shit sweat
testosterone
the same smell is found in what’s left of a pizza shop
in Jerusalem amid Israeli rage
now the smell of war is in Jenin and Ramallah
piss and shit and blood
mixes with the frustrated cries
of the Palestinian people
Helen Caldicott holds up
a picture of an Arab baby with his head blown off
the smell of his head seeps up through the
concrete rubble after the tanks roll on
the same smell of piss and shit and blood
rose into the hot desert
some days after American soldiers
buried Iraqi soldiers
alive
the same smell at Waco when the embers died and the smoke cleared
the same smell of
more anguished piss and shit and blood
was found by heroic firefighters
and police digging below the twin tower’s space
the same smell more piss more shit
more blood
was found near Kabul raised with the dust
by bombs from 40,000 feet
next we’ll find that smell in Colombia or will it be Baghdad
the smell added to the smell of oil added to the smell of the 5,000 children
who die each month or in the Philippines
or Somalia or Iran or some other new axis of evil
the putrescent odor of piss and shit and blood
of war and death
should gag us all
however as Erasmus said five hundred years ago
war is sweet
to those who know it not
—Larry Kerschner
How to perform a war
I will teach you how
to perform a war
a clean operation
to remove that dangerous tissue
which can no longer be controlled
we first name it cancer
we curse it for an inhuman bastard
nothing legitimate to be found
the pathologic question
must be asked and answered
weighing whether a pound of flesh will be enough
shared definitions in hand
we sharpen our knives
sanitary
chrome and steel
bright lights
remove any shadow
of doubts
patriotic anesthesia dulls the senses
common and other
to the loud cutting
ripping and
bleeding to come
once hidden viscera bloody red
broken bone white
and hypoxic blue tissue
stare out at us
unexpected collateral damage
can be dressed
with sterile white gauze
although the bloated smell
sometimes remains
afterwards
we will remove our gloves and
wash our hands
—Larry Kerschner
This poem was first published in the Vietnam Vets against the War newspaper The Veteran Volume 37, Number 1 (Spring 2007). It was written in response to the Pentagon’s attempt to rewrite the history of the Vietnam War.
Rachel (Rachel Corrie, 1979-2003)
In this rubble of war in Rafah
we continue to live with you
Clipping mint into
steaming white teacups
we remember your smile
We remember the sweet lemon
of your laugh as
our children play
in the dusty highway
We remember your heart
Another Rachel is buried along
another dusty road near Jerusalem
When Jeremiah spoke of
her weeping for her children
he prophesied of you
Each lamb sacrificed
for a wedding feast
or funeral strengthens
those to come
Our God said that
with all of our sacrifices
we must offer salt
We remember the salt
of your tears
Ibnati Rachel
Daughter
You still live in our house
—Larry Kerschner
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