Poets Against War continues the tradition of socially engaged poetry by creating venues for poetry as a voice against war, tyranny and oppression.
Robert Aitken
Gatha
When people talk about war
I vow with all beings
to raise my voice in the chorus
and speak of original peace.
Legacies
Turning the pages carefully I asked about the ghastly horsemen and their steeds, white, black, red, and pale. Grandmother was hard put to answer, proud of Uncle Max, gassed in battle at the Marne, she couldn’t speak of purpose, but now I’ll say it in her place: They know what they are doing.
Me too. I’m off with Unzan in his venerable Suzuki speeding past construction of yet another passing lane. We stop for gas at Kea΄au; forty-five minutes to Hilo from my pretty house on lava extending to the ocean and sometimes whales, not so many these past years.
Celeste remarks my presence and Harriet, my vital signs; I josh with Benjamin Ono, M.D. about the state of my interior and its defenses, vain at last. I plan a modest legacy of papers filed in boxes, neatly catalogued, soon enough composted and forgotten, while the half-life of my other legacies is not forgotten, until the world is.
