November 5, 2007: This website is an archive of the former website, traprockpeace.org, which was created 10 years ago by Charles Jenks. It became one of the most populace sites in the US, and an important resource on the antiwar movement, student activism, 'depleted' uranium and other topics. Jenks authored virtually all of its web pages and multimedia content (photographs, audio, video, and pdf files. As the author and registered owner of that site, his purpose here is to preserve an important slice of the history of the grassroots peace movement in the US over the past decade. He is maintaining this historical archive as a service to the greater peace movement, and to the many friends of Traprock Peace Center. Blogs have been consolidated and the calendar has been archived for security reasons; all other links remain the same, and virtually all blog content remains intact.THIS SITE NO LONGER REFLECTS THE CURRENT AND ONGOING WORK OF TRAPROCK PEACE CENTER, which has reorganized its board and moved to Greenfield, Mass. To contact Traprock Peace Center, call 413-773-7427 or visit its site. Charles Jenks is posting new material to PeaceJournal.org, a multimedia blog and resource center.
How Easy it is to Forget
Sometimes I forget
how much the garden calms me.
How the steady sag of branches in virgin woods
wait patient for my arrival.
Or a bird, perhaps, circling overhead with speed so quick,
it registers still on white sky.
I fill my time
with clouded city wash
and leaden town circles.
my heart accepts all things as whole.
And when it is
time to go back inside
I will return, clup clup, the same way I came out,
up the crumpled, molding route,
round the back steps
that have just passed on.
- Charlotte Capogna,
Traprock Peace Center Intern, September, 2000 - January, 2001
Rachel & Charlotte at going-away party for Charlotte
It is hard work that we doIt is hard work that we do.
Many would scoff, mock and think us
for putting so much time
for which we "get paid" so little.
It is knotty dough in our palms,
often tough and unfloured as we
knead its bulky texture.
It is hard work.
There are common internal chores-
There are shelves that have not been scrubbed in years
and are weary.
There are smooth mountains being built daily
by hands that are caving under the weight of infinite informers
There are voices that are not hearing each other.
It is hard work.
Good days resonate.
Their sustenance producing fuel and highs
like semi-precious stones.
A horizon expanding so far it chokes us up
with its endless stretch and strength.
It is our protein.
As peacemakers, we create a circle after the
We may sing.
Somedays unexpected forms take shape.
We offer up thanks, even if it is not our tradition.
And we are silent.
Though we share,
a barely audible hiss amongst our breaths.
We seek sanctuary.
At our house the teapot is always steeping.
At our house the bread is thick
and feeds us all in the end.
Traprock Intern, September, 2000 - January, 2001