We have spoken the
unspeakably and cruel truth.
War kills living things.
Category Archives: POETRY
MARCH OF SUNRISE
Confusion knocks about the yard.
Degrees climb from their beds
until Cold drops down from afar
bringing Rain and cooler heads.
Birds shelter in the pines,
chattering endlessly.
Even the Insects chant their rhymes.
Not the joyous songs of Spring
but curious verse of wondering.
Ground remains frozen with mirth
at the duplicity of Mother Earth.
Buds set on Tree and Bush.
Bulbs grudgingly against Soil push.
Forsythia is no silly fool
sensing Climate is Lord of Misrule.
She refuses yet to bloom
awaiting Snow’s futile return so cruel.
It is too soon to celebrate Winter’s demise.
This is only recess, not summer vacation.
Still, it is a lovely surprise
to see such a glorious Sun rise.
Filed under POETRY
SLEEPLESS NIGHTS
What brings the night to bear
such weighted worry and care
that sleep eludes the grip
of dreams yearning to appear
and yawning gasps for air ?
Breath settles too deep
in lungs already fast asleep
while brain sizzles and burns
in a body which tosses and turns.
And thus, I leave my bed to write
of nothing even close to delight,
knowing I shall face down dawn
weary, drooped and drawn.
The words continue awake and long
for a place I can feel strong.
Filed under POETRY
MASK THE SKY
The Covid pandemic stole funerals for the loved ones
left behind to bury their dead.
Final viewings in pleasant rooms
meant to dispel the sorrowing gloom
of family and friends
gathered to share fond memories
and mend the tear in hearts
became limited to the closest few
wiling to dare the threat of virus.
How fearful it all seemed
to nations unwilling to mask against infection
and end the dread of more illness and death.
“Freedom” shouted anti-vaxers who waged war
on those in need of greatest protection.
And yet.
And yet.
Those truly defending their freedom
lie dying and dead unable to even be buried.
Bodies stacked along streets
of Mariupol, Chernihiv and Sumy.
Bombs rain down upon still-living heads
one-a-minute, bringing more dead
to fall without witness other than
their fellow dead.
Too dangerous to gather bodies
torn apart and bled.
Too dangerous to even bury the corpse.
No funerals nor gatherings of course.
How much crueler can life get?
And still anti-maskers refuse to mask;
not their own faces, but the skies above Ukraine
allowing missiles still to rain
down nothing but death
upon those who truly know what it means
to stand for freedom.
Filed under POETRY
BURNT OFFERINGS
Burnt offerings
from a mother dead
thirty years past
left smoking hot
on the stove top
in a dream confused
by vegetables wrapped
in stars
the sweet smell of meat
charred to sugar
potatoes sliced and crisped
arranged across the sky
amid the stars.
discovered after she
was ushered to the car
to begin her own journey
away from me
food left behind
to nurture a daughter
nearly blind
with grief for other mothers
and daughters, and self.
Ancient lessons taught
in the dead of night
of the power of burnt offerings
I had thought were hers
but in truth
are mine.
Filed under POETRY
STUMBLING TOWARD PEACE
How limited is man’s reason
at the best of times
in calm seas
when a light touch
is all the need?
Calm hand on the helm
as ships of state range
angry seas roiled and rolling
in waves of megalomania
matters even more,
while people plead for
even more power
as innocent citizens cower
in basements and tunnels,
where children are crying
and parents sighing
their inability to reach safety.
If answers were known
the problem would already be
solved for a frightened humanity.
There are no easy answers,
no negotiation nor compromise
when reason has become undone.
Questions such as those we face
can only be answered
by history, after becoming
stumbled upon by those whose reason
holds fast despite the blast
of missiles and bombs.
It is not only armaments unleashed
which make us stumble and fall;
also, reason undermined by tall
tales and lies which cloud
the road to freedom and the end of war.
We cannot pretend to know what will work.
Strategy cannot portend outcomes.
We are all in the dark ages now
hoping for reason to light a new way,
a renaissance to unfold
that the story to be told
will end with cheers and delight
of a world with greater insight.
Filed under POETRY
Shout Out
Trust is a difficult thing
to those without wings
asked to fly.
Hope fades heart strings
Of those pulled awry
by questions unanswered.
We try
to keep faith with leaders
who cannot say why
they stand aside.
We plead for speed
To save lives.
Answers lie within
not outside;
but words must be
Shouted out to be heard
so there is no doubt
what we expect
To protect
Ukrainian lives.
Less Praise, More Help
The rain was mild,
The road travelable
Until a monster
storm unleashed its rage,
The river overflowed
It’s bank with undertows
Dragging the SUV down,
as it began to float.
First responders arrived.
It took awhile.
The driver yelled for help
To save his wife and children.
Onlookers stood safe onshore,
threw ropes across the heaving waters
Until the father begged for more.
He threw a child through
the narrow window opening.
“Please help my child. Now,
please now, before he sinks.”
A raft was thrown
Which none could reach.
More calls for help,
As blankets were stacked ashore,
and life-rings propelled.
People gathered and shouted,
“How brave you are being!
How well you are doing!
We thought you would have sunk
long before.”
He called for help, more desperate now.
Asking the responders to come
into the water to save
His sons and daughters.
But, they refused with worried frowns
That they could not enter the river.
It was not allowed.
What reasoning is this?
What conscience allows
A nation to drown as we watch
Shouting the words “ How brave!”
How wondrous you stayed afloat so long.”
Stood there saluting on the bank
as the car sank.
Hoping the river’s flow
Would slow,
before all hope was lost
For those in the car
and those on the shore.
Filed under POETRY
NO REST WITHOUT PEACE
Harder it is to sleep at night.
Reverberations of artillery
blow across the world.
Shockwaves course around the globe
proving butterfly wing’s theory
and causing injury
to those seeking peace
or at least a good night’s sleep.
The sun is already high in the sky
before the body feels more calm.
A body tossed about all night
by silent waves from blasts of bombs.
What matters such disturbance ?
They awaken more than bodies.
They awaken conscience.
How far into the universe
radiate these disturbances ?
Where are the universe’s guardians?
Where are earth’s guardians?
Where are those who guard
babies and pregnant women
in maternity hospitals
against the Russian missiles?
In dreams I seek answers.
I cannot hold my peace.
I shall say my piece
or we shall never have peace.
I am tired of waiting for answers
when action is required.
Ukraine is so very tired.
Filed under POETRY
“IF I WERE GOD”
This is the question heard like a shot
around the world in heavy hearts.
Who we are matters not
when empathy takes apart
the calm acceptance of fate.
We accept our human frailty in part,
yet aspire to be gods who can create
a world of safety.
From Sun-Kings who were gods
to Putin, Kim Jong Un, and Khamenei
is a short road of ignominy.
Each day of war brings the prayer
“If I were God” I would stop
this unholy massacre.
The helplessness becomes
too much to bear
for such as me.
How much harder must it be
for leaders of democracy
who see more of war than we can know
with secret insights passed between
those on front lines where evil grows?
Is this their prayer, too?
Are they strong enough to ignore its pull?
For autocrats are not.
Autocrats create the fiction they are gods
and pretend a courage they lack
to remain human; becoming monsters instead.
Leaders of democracies show greater humanity
because they have the courage to admit
they are not God, no matter how much
they wish it were so.
Democratic leaders have the strength
to carry the heavy burden
not only of their own human frailty;
but, of ours as well.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 