Skyline shifts
beyond boundaries of Light.
Dawn breaks apart
Moon from Starlight.
Friend to all,
Sun takes deep breath
and slowly rises
just beyond the Bend
between neighbors’ yards
and my own.
I sit in wonder.
My Joy wanders,
alone.
Category Archives: POETRY
START YOUR DAY THIS WAY
Start each day with something to say
that cheers the heart and paves the way
for kindness unbound by fear of loss
of reputation and a safe situation,
threatened by retribution for your contribution
to truth and justice hour-by-hour, day-by-day.
We are on a common journey lifted higher
by a deep yearning for freedom and equality
to which every American and immigrant aspires;
tied down with words in our Constitution
and protected by laws, enforced by courts
which pledge apolitical, neutral decisions
rendered with stated grace and precision.
But, when law is ignored, or twisted by greed or hate;
when SCOTUS corrupts its mission and states
precedent no longer controls politicians
who are free to break laws and showcase their flaws
without any constraints, our laws carry such taint
that constitutional words become blurred on the page.
Crying over each turn of the page by a party of miscreants
takes too much energy and lessens our pace.
We are still here. We are still to be feared
by those who would take our freedoms away.
We are not going back. That is not the progressive way.
We only go forward to claim a new day
where America’s promise wins over the fray
created to disrupt and corrupt election day.
Stop whining. Stop crying. Get out and register voters.
Drive them to the polls. Guard their way.
There are more more than enough of us to hold sway
and create a better country, one we can take pride in every day.
TAKE A MOMENT
I only want a moment of your time
to reflect upon un-poetic rhyme.
There is so very much to do.
I ask either too little, or too much, of you.
His need for subserviency, adoration and greed
takes no notice your own, real need.
You were never meant to be his white serf,
one-step above Black slaves, laboring on his turf.
The DOJ and SCOTUS handed back the whips
to those who do his bidding as he flips
from cruelty to cruelty arranged by Putin’s calls
plotting and planning The USA’s trips and falls.
Military is used to manipulate stock prices so the wealthy few
can buy low and sell high, with no care for you.
Your coins build a ballroom in which you shall never dance.
A triumphal arch between the Washington Monument and Lincoln’s glance
will be constructed that you may no longer easily recall, nor see
American aspiration to realize true equality.
MAGA,Trump, MAGA,Trump! You chanted your power by chanting the name.
The power was a never his but yours.
The conman wins the game, and dances as he scores.
And you cheered. Oh, yes, you did; even gerrymandered lines of hate
for Democrats, Black citizens, college students in every state.
You joined the game without concern, without a qualm
while team leaders covered up crimes, you stayed calm.
Pedophilies, rapists, liars, cheats and colluders in corruption
steal our nation’s health and wealth and reputation
while you stay silent, subservient and take satisfaction
that you can cheat your way to success in every upcoming election.
Detention centers hide concentration camps, not deportation.
If any one of us is not free, none of us are free, don’t you see?
Or are your eyes only on gas price increases, and food costs?
When will you realize nearly all we love is lost?
Get you head out of the book, your eyes off the screen.
Look around at the suffering, MAGA is offering in between
the crazed tweets and mean-spirited acts by the nation’s elites
who refused to be taxed and share the wealth
they gained from your labor with a soft, thieving stealth.
I only want moment of your time
to discover the truth inside their rhyme.
Then I ask you to stand, speak, even shout
until every single one of us learns what MAGA is really about.
KNEE REPLACEMENT SURGERY
Knee replacement seems an affront to me.
An insult to my body’s integrity.
taking out the knee
which served me so faithfully,
to be replaced by utter falsity.
It will work as a joint should, assuredly.
But, it really means my new knee
is no longer the real me.
The me who knocked together,
whenever I was afraid, with the other.
The knee who knelt in the pew to pray
within the family group every Sunday.
The knee which moved the feet
when I practiced my ballet,
and danced across the stage
on tap shoes, then all the rage.
The knee that touched yours
when we danced close,
hearts beating down to our toes.
The knee where every baby bounced
while we played horsey and laughed in glee.
The knee that pushed me to my feet
to object to opposing counsel in court;
or at a hearing to enact
what I considered an unjust act.
The knee that bent down to sow
seeds in a garden bed cleared of weeds.
The knee that pushed away
an unwelcome hand or worse.
The knee that I slapped in glee
when I heard a funny verse.
I love that knee.
I hate to see it go.
Part of me goes with it, I know.
Piece by piece each surgery,
has diminished the real me.
My reaction is a form of PTSD
recalling all the times I was told
I was too much, or not enough.
Did my body listen to such guff?
Did I push my knee too hard,
dismantle its soft protective layer,
to satisfy too many others?
It is only a knee, you say.
Not to me. Not today.
Filed under POETRY
LOOK TO THE YOUNG
To see the future look to the young people.
They are not yet bound by convention,
nor blinded by the past,
as we old people are,
weighed down and eyes downcast
because we must watch the path
we no longer walk easily.
Such history serves a purpose.
It offers cautionary tales
learned from days gone by.
But, it predicts nothing,
moves too slowly to catch up
with the speed of a future
unfolding before our eyes.
We can hardly understand
what we see in broken spans
as we catch pieces of the changes
meant to help us survive.
Look to the young people
racing on by, sharing nods of heads
while busily taking it all in stride,
smiling all the while,
letting us hold fast to our past
knowing we think them fools;
but they know they are simply cool.
And they are so, so, so cool.
They carry our hopes with their own,
and the hopes of ages past grown old
into a world we cannot conceive.
They never break a sweat;
learning more than we can forget.
I want to live long enough to see
this new world they create, strong and free.
I lift my eyes up to them respectfully,
gladly, lovingly and hopefully.
BORDERS
Borders have their uses.
They tidy-up the scene,
remind us where we are,
and where we have not been.
They assign us each a plot
of able responsibility,
and call us to fulfill our task,
to act responsibly, as we ought.
Like naturalists we name each plot
to recognize ourselves within its place.
We mark paths between each plot,
a no-man’s land of sea and space.
Borders are a mere tool to use.
They can create more civility.
Or, they can abuse all gentility.
We can move across borders easily.
They were not made to stop humanity
from going where it needs to go
to find food and shelter, water and safety.
There is the rub in such a construction.
It can also lead to self-destruction.
For we are all part of the same family
of men and women descended
from a single source evolving merrily.
Until, each one of us is forced to face
the human weakness that lies within
and threatens our dreams of what we could win
if only we were better than we are.
If we were better, we could reach the stars.
Such anger we cannot allow directed at self.
We look for somewhere to place it,
when it should be put on a shelf,
placed where it can do no harm
and give us time to calm our alarm
that we are far from perfect, but still okay.
Our personal borders help us hold our evil at bay.
Instead, we project all the fear and rage
from and toward ourselves to others,
other humans being human, idiot or sage.
We carefully choose a human target
who does not quite look like us;
and not because he is truly different at all.
But in mirrored reflection of our follies
his appearance creates a place we can hide
that we are truly the same person, inside.
It would never do to project our own failings
onto another who looked just like we look.
It would prove the foolishness of railing
against all who look the same-self ailing.
So, we choose to note a difference
to justify our disdain and discrimination.
We close our borders with determination.
We miss the prize right before our eyes.
We miss the chance to accept our need
for the strength that comes with community.
We forget, for as long as we can,
that differences reinforce each man
and help us each overcome our weakness,
our circular thinking, our useless imagination
and build a stronger human-kind nation
within every border, across every border
until we kind humans no longer fear
our very selves, nor one another.
We could act as sister and brother
and settle our squabbles with love
as part of a human family.
We could project amity
and, perhaps, save humanity.
RIGHTS OF PASSAGE
We wanderers have a right to be
on any path we choose;
known, or unknown in mystery.
Our passage may take many turns.
It may too often lead us astray
from the things for which we yearn.
One foot in front of the other is best,
taking time to consider our choices
while our minds and bodies rest.
Technology speeds us way too fast
telling us hurriedness marks success.
I choose a different pace to proceed,
unconcerned at the costs which occur
as I stroll, ignoring all inclination for greed.
Rights of passage are helpful guides
to push our plodding struggles
to the side, and save our pride.
I may not know when I will get to the place
I am truly meant to be.
I may not know when I will find a space
where I can do what I am meant to do.
I slowly mark my passage on this earth
one moment at a time, and look around.
I am surprised how far I have come since birth.
My right of passage soon may end.
I know not the how, nor when.
And then? And then?
I believe it will begin again.
Filed under POETRY
CALCULATED BEAUTY
CALCULATED BEAUTY
What equation rules the mind
and creates beauty as it seeks to find
the perfect formula for an attractive design?
We do the math in hearts, not minds.
Not by calculation, but by satisfaction we find
what makes us happy, what makes us smile.
We then relax all concentration,
and simply relish each occasion
such unspoken math implies.
Beauty fills our deepest self and widest eyes.
We see the beauteous truth, rejecting ugly lies.
Chaos is not beautiful, nor pleasant to behold.
It ages quickly hearts and souls made old and cold.
Chaos lacks the symmetry of perfect geometry
which settles, comforts and controls thoughts
twisted into ugly shapes of those distraught
lying right before our eyes.
No words dictated as order can still our unease.
Chaos spreads like a demented disease
to overcome us with such speed
we are unable to restrain or contain
the unholy, arrogant and ugly pain
of a world lacking the means to create a straight path
to a stable place of constancy where beauty reigns.
Make beauty come alive. Do the math.
Filed under POETRY
HIDDEN SPRING
What do the Earth and her creatures know
which we do not know?
Are our hopes too high, too soon
even as the green grass grows
and trees unfurl leaves
that shelter all from heat and sun?
The squirrels still seldom leave their nests.
The rabbits yet burrow beneath the shed.
The disquiet of too quiet daybreak
without birdsong warbling to wake
all the creatures eager to begin
days of freedom without and within.
Why do the creatures continue to hide
in shelters away from prying eyes?
Where are the bees
as the flowers bud and bloom?
Why such a quiet garden devoid of all sound?
Is it too soon to expect, Earth’s creatures
and I, our freedom to rebound?
Or, should we find our peace
by staying underground?
In the silence, I walk carrying dreams
instead of shutting them down in dawn’s light.
Dreams cannot stay hidden by night
after the sun reappears in the sky.
Earth and its creatures may stay hidden;
but not my dreams of Spring. Not I, not I.
I move through the garden,
my eyes searching wide
for other creatures, unwilling to hide.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 
AT NOT AI
Artificial intelligence is askew.
It mispronounces names when I try to make a phone call.
I Then must make the same error to chat-up a friend,
or order a pizza or a ride.
It misspells words as I write. No text, no essay, no poem
is safe from un-related words and ideas.
Every few moments I must review or a single word
shifts all those which follow until I forget
where my thoughts were headed,
or as AI just told me my thoughts were “ceded.”
AI has ceded my thoughts to its own.
This is artificial thought- AT; not intelligent at all.
Ads pop-up to block the knowledge I would glean
from newspapers journalling the news.
Scrolling down only un-leashes new ads to view.
To reach family, friends or businesses by phone
I must mispronounce and match AI errors to get through.
AI is training me. I am not training it; or as it states
I am “trailing” it. I trail behind my own ideas and actions
to allow AI to proceed to guide me I know not where.
I soon become unaware of my own brain.
My own thoughts become lost and I, unaware.
I am betrayed in ways I cannot accept.
We underestimate the power of our minds
to override the fault lines of our brains.
AI is not artificial intelligence.
It is artificial thought.
It is a thinking process like a brain.
It is artificial thought or AT.
Like all thoughts within our brain,
our mind knows thoughts must be constrained.
Our minds modulate and regulate our thoughts.
Propriety is the hallmark of sound thought,
the peacemaker and moderator
of any civilized society.
We must correct the nomenclature of AI
and call it AT in order to keep it in its rightful place,
under our control, protecting our community.
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Filed under COMMENTARY, POETRY
Tagged as A.I., ai, artificial intelligence, brain chemistry, brain development, brain structure, chatgpt, communication, community, EMOTION, emotional intelligence, healthy minds, language, manners, mind control, mindfulness, propriety, society, soul, technology, thoughtfulness, WRITING