Peace Is

By Donald Andrew Agarrat, in politics
Monday, April 14 2003, 12:00AM

In today's guest column, Donald Agarrat writes poetry about the meaning of peace. As Dr. King once said, peace is not the absence of tension but the presence of justice. So what is peace?

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Peace is not some blushing cherub tiny fat hands clasped and tiny eyes closed lips pursed in holy reverie while bombs explode convenience and not profit bursting, bloody in the background.

Peace is not the face of some refugee child
painted with a symbol that no one really knows
dirty and starving and naked
dancing on camera for billions
for nothing.

Peace is not the returning soldier
sailing through placid sky and sea
without the slightest recognition,
without the sanctity of life.

Peace is not M16s at Fulton Street Station
or 125th Street or the Grand Concourse,
carding me as if I'm about to
get my groove and/or drink and/or freak on
when I just want to go home.

Peace is not offering the opportunity of welfare
when my job is gone
when my rent is due
when my lights can go at any minute
and I'm hungry and still anxious
choking on ash.

Peace is what my mother taught me
that, whatever I choose, I can be.

Peace is knowing I'll do my best
in a world where my best doesn't look like the rest.

Peace is walking down the street
sensing the subway underneath
feeling it rumble, hearing it bay
and knowing that everything's okay.

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