Poets Against War continues the tradition of socially engaged poetry by creating venues for poetry as a voice against war, tyranny and oppression.
Katy Didden
28 years old
Washington, DC
I was born in Washington, DC, and recently moved back to pursue my MFA in poetry at the University of Maryland, College Park.
Letter from Washington DC
City of Tombs. White marble rises up from the swamp, pure as bones. The presidents who waged wars for freedom are dead. I stand at the feet of Lincoln, read his words: violence is the cost of freedom. Camouflaged by design, war memorials cut the Mall—-his words’ shadows. Tourists trail hands along the black walls in silence. No, violence is a prison, these white columns the bars. If who’s outside the walls is enemy, where else can we look for shelter? Ask the woman in Iraq for whom the very sky’s a menace: even stones are fragile against bombs, how much more our bodies? What reaches me from Lincoln’s words is sadness. It is not war that unites us, but grief. When the war’s done, we shake hands standing in the fields of unnecessary bodies. Our grief’s too late to save us. I believe in freedom. I believe we are rescued by our voice. Hear my voice— I am afraid of death by violence. No violence will console me. The landscape’s crowding up with graves. Whose voices were silenced I will echo: facing death, who could we name enemy? Freedom’s in dependence— we live by life’s brink, only seconds away from ash.
