Author Archives: jonrobisonpoetry

Hiroshima Day

This is the first of three poems related to one topic: Hiroshima. Sad to say, they are still current politics. “Memory is where the past and future meet.” Mayor Takahashi Hiraoka of Hiroshima, quoted in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette, 8/5/95, … Continue reading

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Christmas Island

“This is only a test.” Here on Christmas Island We watch the grandson of ‘Fat Boy.’ whom the Japanese called ‘Original Child.’ because there had never been anyone like him. ‘Fat Boy’ was born Aug. 6, 1945. The annunciation was … Continue reading

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Cleansing

Someday the land will subside beneath the sea Hiding the rocks that Hiroshima was built on. But the shadows printed on stone will remain Someday the ocean will again cover the land That once held up the chimneys of Auschwitz … Continue reading

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Our Songs are Stronger Songs

Dedicated to the Labor Arts Exchange. This seems like lyrics for a folk song that someone should write. We have walked for countless years, We have marched for countless miles, And our songs are stronger songs. From the factory, from … Continue reading

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Pre-election Jitters

I listened: This is a time of fountains, of babbling brooks, of rushing rivers. I watched: the full moon and clouds, on the holy sea. I felt: Fog. For today: predictions. For tomorrow: a prophesy. Bright morning star, Great eastern … Continue reading

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Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

In Memory of PFC Barry Winchell (1978-7/5/99) Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Don’t you ever, ever yell, even if they beat you and it hurts like hell. Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Don’t you ever, ever yell, even if they beat you … Continue reading

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Twenty-eight Bullets

Bang. Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. … Twenty-eight times. On his own doorstep – ‘suspicious behavior’. “Never again!” What does that mean?

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Politics, Law and Power

Politics, law, power in general is like sex. You can do it for fun, for love, and for money. Multiple motives? Sure. But which comes first?

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This Job Stinks!

This job stinks. Lousy pay, working weekends. And I’d better not get sick. The job ain’t going nowhere, Unless it goes to India. The wife don’t respect me like she should, Don’t listen to me like she should. The kids … Continue reading

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This Little Light of Mine

This is a new verse, or added chorus, of a traditional folk song. MY verse has not been recorded. The original song can be found here. Eyes to see / and ears to hear, with hands to hold to / … Continue reading

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