Category Archives: Politics
OCCUPIED
Many places were occupied by activists in 2012.. Turf was contested downtown and in other cities, with tents and banners proclaiming defiance. So, what’s happening here? It’s broad daylight and no one’s in sight. except in the cars whizzing past. … Continue reading
While there is a lower class
This was certainly not written as poetry. And it is not by me, it is by Eugene Victor Debs, 1855-1926. I consider it a Found Poem.. While there is a lower class, I am in it. While there is a … Continue reading
Four Years at Forbes and Braddock
For four years, we’ve been standing, standing at Forbes and Braddock, every Saturday, Noon to 1. Honk for peace! Otherwise it’s quiet. No chanting, no singing. The honks are louder now. more insistent, pissed off. Who’s in charge of this … Continue reading
Is this a Dead Young Soldier?
Is this a dead young Soldier? True, he was born in 1985, on Sept. 24. He was nineteen. He went to high school in the small town where he was raised. He played right guard for the team, the Trojans. … Continue reading
Kerry Field Ops
These kids … In the office the phone is ringing off the hook: Questions, complaints, volunteers. Coffee. Somebody brought in some cookies. Then door-to-door canvassing. They study the street lists, look at a map for directions. Later there’s a phone … Continue reading
Thinking of Uncle Jesse, on Tu B’Shevat
Today is Tu B’shevat, and I am thinking of Uncle Jesse Jesse Wallach died on a winter’s day in 1999, at 90. “Uncle, great uncle, lend me your cane.” “It’s such a long walk from your lap to my bed.” … Continue reading
Flight Back to Pittsburgh
I don’t care for flying. I often describe a plane As a bus with wings, And an unpleasant feeling in my ears. But as we slowly climb through solid clouds. Flying is an act of faith: Below the clouds there … Continue reading
Neighborhood Preservation
the last stanza is a haiku Back in ’79 we had a conference in Baltimore. Two days of talk: neighborhood preservation, revitalization, gentrification. Carved lintels, worn white marble stoops, speak to us.
After 9/11 – Three Days Later
Three days after 9/11, I sit on my porch steps, holding a candle, looking at an unusually empty street. My daughter in Kansas City suggested this, I don’t quite know why. The sunset is beautiful. The weather has been clear … Continue reading
After 9/11 – One Year Later
What does the burning candle learn, as it burns down? A new candle will take its place when it gutters out. When the candle is relit Is it the same flame? Twelve months later, motes from the World Trade Center … Continue reading
Jon Robison Poetry 