Category Archives: POETRY

SOLEMN VOW

Photo from Louise’s and the bees’ garden.

Where does my world begin and end?

Before the horizon or beyond it to some unknown shore

That has only appeared in my dreams before?

Is my world worth saving, again and again.

Are we simply so tired we do not mind it could end?

Helpless, it seems, I am to do more.

Technology now must save the day

as I find my own simple way

to save and protect all that I love.

I cannot sit still and not do my part.

I must give it my all, and give you all my heart.

I plant native plants and trees,

flowers whose blooms dance in fierce breeze.

Butterflies and bees swoop in and sip

the nectar of gods, nip after nip.

I feed the homeless and shelter those displaced

by flood, fire, crime, famine and war.

I visit the isolated and phone the lonely.

I stay healthy enough to stay earth-bound a few days more

to love those far away and those close around me.

I fold my hands and grip my rosary beads

praying those with power and ability

know what to do and how to succeed.

I love this Earth, its flora and fauna;

its sunrises and sunsets and all in between.

I love its sunny days and cloudless blue skies;

and days when storms hide sun behind a screen.

There is no place in the universe that I would rather be

than right here with you, as we face such adversity.

My hope lies in science and those drenched in creativity

who see beyond today to a future of love and harmony;

not just for all the people of the Earth

but for Earth herself who offers us sanctuary

within the endless energy of planetary boundaries.

Where does my world begin and end?

Right here, with you, right now.

This is a solemn vow.

take it and make it 

your own

somehow.

HIBISCUS, acrylic on canvass by Louise Annarino with gratitude to her garden.

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NOT JUST A DREAM

Photo by namo deet on Pexels.com

Dream bigger.

Seek more.

There are no limits

beyond the door.

Stand at the fence.

Find your spot.

Peek through the holes.

Let your interest be caught

by what you enjoy,

by what you have not.

It is all yours

wherever you look.

It is yours to explore.

One foot, then another.

Keep on going

until you discover

something you never

imagined before.

Let dreams guide your way.

Let them tow you along

to places of light and music

where you sing along.

Then dance through the night

and on into the light

emboldened and strong.

What a beautiful sight !

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HAIKU MORNING KISS

Photo by Alena Shekhovtcova on Pexels.com

As I awaken

I feel your weight above me.

You taste delicious.

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JUDGE NOT THE JUGGERNAUT

Photo by Caleb Oquendo on Pexels.com

How fast can you run?

There is no answer.

We run in the shade, or in the sun.

The ground may be soft or hard,

the path straight or curved,

the mile-markers left in shards,

the incline flat or elevated,

the stones buried or strewn,

the road tolled or gated.

Knees  buckle and ankles twist

just when your gait opens in full stride.

Impossible to predict catching a ride.

How then can we expect to know

how far and how fast

others can go ?

Such expectations are doomed to fail.

We cannot pretend we can see

what barriers exist for others, you see.

I barely know what stops me

from getting from here to there.

We all move on a wing and a prayer.

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LIFE

Photo by Eva Bronzini on Pexels.com

This is all I know.

First, you come.

Then, you go.

This is all.

I know.

I know.

It is all I can know.

Yet something shows

from hidden places 

up and below.

Something unbidden

that hints at more, longer;

that feels better, stronger.

Where does more come from?

Where does more go?

Where did I come from?

Where shall I go?

It is never enough 

this life that I know.

This is all?

Can this be so?

I want to know.

I want to know.

I want to know.

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HAIKU

Photo by Arti Kh on Pexels.com

The me becomes lost

amidst all of thee crowding,

flower choked by weeds.

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AGING SPACES

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Somewhere along the way

the package I carried has been mislaid.

Since I did not notice it missing until today

its importance has made little impact, I’d say.

The years rolled by day-after-day.

space where the package once stayed

grew dusty with age.

Until the day, where nothing could stop the rage

of loneliness filling page-after-page;

searching for communion with those not my age.

Old connections are no longer stable and sure

as death knocks at too many old friends’ doors.

That space covered in dust reminds me anew

of those friends I mislaid as loneliness grew.

Seeking youth and more life is nothing new.

But, I know this to be true.

Old friends can never be replaced.

Their faces remain. They occupy my space.

Their love for me is my only pride.

Dead or alive they fill every space inside

where memory and love will always abide.

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MY KNEES HURT

Photo by ROCKETMANN TEAM on Pexels.com

My skin is now too thin.
it cracks on my feet and bleeds 

from pressure rising inside damaged knees,

throwing legs into a spin

and buckling under the strain

threatening falls again and again.

I hold on with tightened fists

gathered by my side, mislaid

and held in check, afraid

of striking out instead of balancing

against the forces dragging me down.

My body mimics my emotional gown

caught against my legs by autocratic winds

that bind my forward motion,

strangling reality and truthful notions,

knocking my legs out from under me,

demeaning my humanity

with white supremacy.

All I know is how hard it is to stand;

but, how necessary it is in order to outrun

the gerrymandering brigands

who would see democracy undone.

So, on my leg I place a brace

to hold my leg steady

while I rest upon the couch,

heal and make certain I am ready

when it is time to vote hate out.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

BAKE BROWNIES

Photo by Chopsticks and Coffee on Pexels.com

Life got you down?

Bake brownies.

Feeling all alone?

Bake brownies.

Knees buckling from the strain?
Bake brownies.

Tired of all the heat and rain?
Bake brownies.

No solutions to be found?

Bake brownies.

Sighing  with a tired smile?

Bake brownies.

Ready to rest for just awhile?
Bake brownies.

Need to set guilt aside?

Bake brownies.

Need a place to hide?
Bake brownies.

Want to quiet the voice in your head?

Bake brownies.

Taking a break from all you dread?

Bake brownies.

Tomorrow is another day.

Today, bake brownies.

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COLOR BLIND JUSTICE

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A loose grip is also confining;

its implied threat still real.

Shackles are not needed

to confine the body and the soul.

Only part of the story is told by polls.

The majority of Americans 

would see us all free.

One grip, by one arm,

one threatening voice to hold me down

for simply being Black or Brown;

for gender choice, or a soft woman’s voice

the gripping fear of one can drown

an entire nation. 

And, bring it to its knees

along with those like me.

The gun held against the spine from behind

is just as confining as the chains of slavery.

The raised fist, laws on the books

to force a life-threatening pregnancy

are equally destructive to me.

It has never been about the numbers

the justices rulings proclaim,

when the majority would see us free.

It is about the fawning few who reek of power,

wealth and greed and seek to control

the likes of you and me.

Blindness is a convenient tool

of those who refuse to see

threats now made so openly,

on the streets and airwaves, 

on social media, in open courts

and at political rallies.

The narrative of the fascists of old

has not grown cold over the centuries.

It has grown hotter, and now is so bold

even judges blindly embrace its hold.

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