Category Archives: POETRY

IT IS ALL TRANSACTIONAL

Photo by Guilherme Rossi on Pexels.com

I lifted the blind, closed against the heavy weight of darkness.

But, the darkness lingers still in a world where the ability to see

has become transactional instead of factual.

It is all about the money, we now see.

Truth is no longer able to set us free.

The heavy weight of lies shackles and chains us

and keeps us in our place, where lack of opportunity

now extends beyond those once enslaved.

Too many blindly bow to the oligarchs who stole a nation’s wealth

and put the blame not on themselves, but on everyone else.

It is the people of color, women and homosexuals;

the immigrant and refugee, asylum seekers, librarians,

historians, veterans, unions and universities…

the truth-tellers the upper 1 percent would hide

to save their greedy selves, and tame their shame

behind a white Christian nationalism’s false pride.

Resentment has been nurtured over decades of time,

hardened into stone and fossilized, with guns loaded and primed.

Do not shoot the messengers who only try to lift the blind

and tell the truth you need to hear, about those who put you in this bind.

The sun shouts in voices of students and grandmothers,

unionists and progressives who only want to remind

the leaders still in place, but powerless as institutions crumble,

that we the people will never give up the freedoms  so hard-won.

We will not allow the tyranny of the greedy few to rule 

over  the nation and world we love, never over me and you.

Have we become what we fear most ? A nation of cowards and bullies?

Are we strong enough to lift the blinds and see the truth, finally?

Are we asleep at the post, we guardians of freedom’s hope?

Has greed brought us all to our knees before those who wield wealth

as a cudgel, a chain saw and a weed whacker 

to root out those who seek equal opportunity to build wealth, and be free?

Are we willing to worship the new gods of control, corruption and greed?

It is always about the money; transactional, not factual; selfish, not loving.

Has our beloved community and country been brought to its knees?

Is our ability to love now simply and blindly transactional?

Is no one left to hear our heartfelt, truthful pleas?

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NOT QUITE SILENT

Photo by Karl Byron on Pexels.com

I listened for the voice today.

This is all it had to say. 

My teacup is filled only 1/3 of the way.

Too little water to boil in the pot.

I shall brew my tea and keep it very hot. 

Then add cooler water to the cup.

No harbor will see tea fill it up.

Not exactly as I had willed.

Seeing my beloved democracy killed.

But who am I your will to sway.

My cup does not “filleth over” this cold day.

The half-empty cup seems a blatant warning.

I refuse to name and bring to life

fearfully expected wounds and strife.

The sun blares and cuts the cold air,

melting frost gathered everywhere.

It lies on every surface it seems.

In schoolrooms, libraries, museums,

in corporation and university board rooms. Next,

on airwaves  and in chat rooms and texts. 

In law firms hallowed conference rooms,

and in SCOTUS decisions which seal our doom.

Hard to find a place where the cruelty of iced hearts 

has not settled in, stopping hopefulness at its start.

Hard to know how this day should begin.

Hard to see how we might win.

No birds gather in the yard to eat, drink and sing.

Worms like words stretch frozen on cement pathways.

Hard to stand and walk boldly, or to see our way.

May will bring flowers in graceful bouquets.

But, June, I think, will have the final say.

May summer be full of grace, I pray.

I listened longingly for the hopeful voice today.

But, this…this is all it had to say,

as I watch sunshine melt the frost away.

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LIGHT UP

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

I am made of stardust

lit by sunlight.

Like lilies of the field

I dig deep into earth

with my toes.

Like birds of the air

I soar on currents stirred

when heat meets cold.

I seek. I soar. I laugh out loud.

I raise my face to the sun.

I dance in moonlight.

My spirit takes flight.

I grow strong.

My beauty abounds.

As earth, my earth

turns round and round.

Time has no meaning

I have found

except to tether my hopes

that change comes around

when most desired,

bright with sounds

of laughter, and courage

unleashed and unbound.

Rejoice in the day,

the month and the year

but stay in the moment.

Have no fear.

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

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DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME

photo by W. Melvin, April 2025

Time Springs forward

dragging darkness 

behind the lines

sketched on icy nights,

chilled by winds of change

blowing against the heat of sunlight,

marching tentatively 

amid the raindrops

on hardened feet,

with tender hearts,

and fretful minds.

Where will this end?

wonder insects, birds and bees.

Will flowers and gardens of delight

ever bloom in peace again ?

Books, plays, trans, 

people of color and women,

Jews and Muslims banned.

Libraries and museums shuttered.

Voice of America and PBS silenced ?

Knowledge buried with past misdeeds

and hidden gems of wisdom covered

by the mulch of indifference and lies. 

How fast time flies

while truth is shattered and put asunder.

Forgotten history betrayed and bended,

despite our promise, “Never again!” has ended.

Now is the time to save the light.

Daily, now, again and again.

Spring into the light and fight.

Again and again and again

until the darkest days of winter

are overcome by a freedom summer’s light.

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COLUMBUS,OHIO 4-5-2025

Thousands gathered in pouring rain

that fizzled to drizzle

before again filling drains

in a deluge of tears shed from the sky

for all the cruel MAGA plans in 2025.

Cars in parade drove round and round

filled with those too weak or sick to stand

letting the blare of horns shift feet off the ground

as protesters lifted signs and waved

in true solidarity, camaraderie and pride.

Every viewpoint, every age, every gender

straight or pride, every religion; all differences aside.

Small towns, big cities and rural hamlets,

countries all around the globe 

joined together, lifted signs with epithets

and reminders the people run this country

not oligarchs, nor despots, nor traitors, nor kings.

Enough is enough and this is too much

as it silences the Liberty Bell’s ring.

And, best of all, this is just the beginning.

Soon, MAGA will fall.

Still, local and national news ignores

the true message sent today

to save our beloved USA.

Media moguls saw no need

to shoot themselves in the knee

and tell the story of our glory

as we gathered to redress grievances

and demand our government comply

with federal laws and court orders

lest we watch our nation die. 

We are here, and here we shall remain.

We are our own best hope. We refuse to lie.

Fascists now rule over the home of the brave,

supported by Republican cowards

whose complicity credulity strains.

And the news media offers no discourse

to educate and explain

why millions of Americans stood so  resolute,

so long, in such  drowning rain.

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MAKE THE BULLIES FLY

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

In my childhood neighborhood

the most frequent phrase in use was this:

“Pick on someone your own size.”

Bullies ruled the playground

at the public elementary school around

the corner from our house

Munching through gardens 

along our alleyways, 

grapes the finest prize;

trees along the river inviting us to climb,

the railroad tracks we ran beside

to catch a three block ride 

to the railway station nearby

required forethought and planning

to avoid chiding voices and threats

to make us fly back home,

imprisoned in a tiny yard.

But, I refused to run and hide.

My mouth became a weapon

to make up for my small size.

I had such foolish pride.

I could outrun nearly everyone.

I had feet that could fly

beyond the reach of baseball bats,

grasping arms and kicks gone wide.

But, projectiles I had not foreseen

the day I took my toddler brother

to swing on swings. I pushed him, oh so high.

The rocks hit us both as I held him close

and sheltered his tiny body with my own.

Then, I flew at the bullies as they laughed

and pushed them to the ground.

“Pick on someone your own size!

have you no honor nor pride?”

They stopped, then shrugged,

went on their way, no laughter, just a sigh.

That was the last day they picked on me.

A glare alone was all I needed

to put them in their place and keep them there,

forcing them to snivel, drop their eyes, and hide.

Whenever they saw me coming

it was they who would fly.

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

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Filed under FAMILY STORIES, POETRY

DEAR PROTESTERS

Photo by Chris Alo on Pexels.com

We see you. We hear you. We stand beside you.

But now, in spirit, bowed down 

by age, and illness, and disability

we no longer meet you at the march in body.

The feet and legs no longer allow

standing on the corners, hugging the curbs,

marching along with you one-by-one.

The hands and arms no longer allow

lifting the sign, carrying messages aloft,

marching along with you one-by-one.

We can still lift a pen, still lift a brush.

We know it is not nearly enough

to calm the heart, comfort the soul

or change a stiff and unrelenting mind.

It is enough to calm, comfort and awaken

our weakened, weary, warrior selves.

We send our spirits to stand beside you

as you march along one-by-one.

We can remind you and all who watch

that more stand with you than they can see.

You are not alone

as you march to keep us free.

Photo by Life Matters on Pexels.com

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DARK TIMES

Photo by Raphael Brasileiro on Pexels.com

In the dark times

neither day nor night

bring about right.

We are forced

into our interior

and rely upon insight

and the subtle feel

of what our senses say is real.

We come to a stop,

to listen and recall

where we stand,

leaning against the wall

of remembered balance.

Perhaps we lean a bit,

Perhaps we sway

before trying to find our way

back into the light.

Standing still is no solution.

Going ahead despite our dread

of what can happen in the dark

is the only thing to be done.

It is the only way to bring back

brighter and happier days,

and nights when we can sleep

knowing we are safe.

Take my hand.

Together, we shall find our way.

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WAGING WAR

Making public servants an enemy

to be destroyed and removed

from the field of battle against 

ignorance,

poverty,

disease,

and injustice

is 

making

war 

against the Republic

itself.

This is not a restructuring.

This is not a reduction of cost.

This is not quality control.

This 

is

making 

war

against the republic 

itself.

We are not facing a possible 

Civil War.

We are in one.

We are not on the precipice of losing

the Rule of Law

and thus, our government

of the people

by the people 

and for the people.

We, the people

are being usurped

by technocrats and billionaires

protecting their plantations of wealth

built on greed and false grace

and manacled religions

and on the backs 

of what was once

a middle class

unionized and organized

and ready to defend

the American Dream.

Now, we hear their screams

on the battlefield.

And those waging war

in a place where 

true leaders once stood

make us beg for terms

of surrender

already written by Putin

and other war lords

against democracies.

We are the first to fall for lies

in submissive position

to the beast

within us all.

We are

making war

against our republic,

against

ourselves.

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ART THERAPY& Haiku

Letting Go of the Old, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, March 2025
Trump Speaks at DOJ, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, March 2025

When things are too hard

to take, take to creation

within and without.

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Filed under art work, POETRY, POLITICS