HIDING IN THE SPOTLIGHT, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, 11/22/2022
Hiding in the spotlight
living out of sight
is a graceful dance
blocking the view
of the true you.
Light on your feet,
light dancing your own beat,
light blinding the audience’s eyes
to every flaw
no one ever saw,
except for you.
Hiding in the spotlight
is the safest place to be
on the stage,
where life plays out.
The place to dance for those
who give a performance
brave and strong and true.
I applaud you.
Filed under POETRY
Each day was a new day.
No two alike in any important way
except the fact that they only stayed
in that place, for that single day.
The next day, they moved on to find
a place they imagined in their mind
of a place without rubbish nor ruin,
with clear waters, and clean skies.
Every day a new day to move on
to the same way of getting on.
The moves became more
than some could bear.
The days became weary wear and tear
on the space both outside and inside
those needing to explore
a new place on a new day.
Until the day they discovered
they lived on an island.
They had returned to the place they began.
They had circled the island
with no place left to expand.
That is the day they began the plan
to leave the island behind
and look for new islands in the unknown seas
on unknown shores they did not understand.
They left behind the ruins on their island,
left the island to heal itself
and those too tired to move on.
One wonders at such self-assured
blindness to explore instead of restore
an island that had once been enough, and more.
One wonders why here is not enough.
Filed under Uncategorized
“What a goose I am!”
said a thousand times a day,
unlike ducks who stay
put.
While geese expand their range
from pond to pond
the ducks remain tucked away
in the same pond
all day long.
Ducks duck and cover
and seldom fly away.
A few strokes of the wings,
a few inches lifted above the fray,
A few feet they stray
until the threat fades.
The geese have no fear of flight.
They simply find
another pond on which to alight.
They are not bound by precedence.
They do not fear imprudence.
They have a key to ease such moves,
shared leadership and honking blares
to make the group totally aware
of dangers coming their way.
The ducks listen, too, yet stay.
While geese blithely find a better place.
Filed under POETRY
Scattered by unforgiving winds
leaves waver then flee the tree
overcome by icy blasts
they fall one-by-one
in an election in which they
were chosen to run.
Leaves litter the yards of dormant grass
left unwatered, to rest after last cuts.
Then, media blasts toss leaves in our face
as they race across the landscape.
We gather those lost leaves
like lost souls, in yard waste bags
to be placed by the curb for pick-up.
What happens to them there
is not ours to see.
Our yards suddenly seem free of their weight
upon the grass we hope to grow
when cold subsides and warmth returns
along with fertile minds who know
how to make our American garden grow.
Alas, too many leaves remain
caught among the roots and branches
of shrubs and dried-out garden stalks
which mark a yard’s boundary,
which catch them before they can flee
and hide them from our sight
where they shelter creepy-crawly things.
They also hide the weeds waiting below
ready to sprout and grow
where no gardener wishes them to be.
Rake out those sheltering leaves,
or let them rot and lie until they die?
Like fallen leaves we have no answers.
It is too cold to be outside
so we stay inside ourselves and hide.
We simply blow the way the wind blows.
Filed under POETRY
Brewed tea cools in the cup
held by cold hands warming up
while teeth chatter
and the mind clatters
through the early morning fog
clearing thoughts
mangled and strangled
by deep sleep.
Crossing all borders of energy
at too high a frequency
where multiple realities
cluster and gather.
The first sip of tea
clears it all away,
and grounds words that sway
safe, on solid earth,
an anchor and a base
of lower frequency
that is surely me.
I am stardust captured long ago
by mother earth.
Stardust still resides inside,
contained by my mortality,
waiting to be set free
to higher densities.
Filed under POETRY
Is today the day?
You know.
That someday.
The one we always seem to be
waiting for
while we ignore this one.
Is this the day
birds stop singing
and rain stops falling
over barn roofs
where goats form a chorus
in high stepping majesty,
while we stand in silent awe?
Is this the day
children no longer join in play
with joyful glee
among their un-tamed thoughts
where all is possible
until nothing is?
It is not too late
to save the day.
You know.
This one.
The one you take
to go and play.
Filed under POETRY
Waiting for words
becomes an exercise best used
before dawn lights the sky
and light invades the eye
and awakens the mind
newly travelled
beyond space and time
throughout the long night.
Betrayed and out-of-sight
ideas took flight
after a bruising fight
waged the day before
watching election news unfold
with every story told and retold
until the brain became fixed
and locked in battles
new and old.
One would hope dawn holds the key
to release words and set them free.
But, like November skies
heated words are now weighted by the cold.
Darkness lingers like a dreaded scold
to a party of lies and dishonor.
A party we once found disagreeable but honest.
Where did it go? Perhaps our enemies know.
The Ghost of Republican Future asks, for we must now face
The Ghost of Republican Party past
still forging fearful, hateful trails
which cannot, which must not, last.
But, I fear they will.
We see you
In airports ready to board
flights into the unknown
where you will prepare
for unknown dangers.
You give us your greatest gift,
your protection and faith in us.
We see you
holding up signs,
standing at the intersection
of our lives
after your service
after your loss
of innocence
and youth.
You gave us your greatest gift,
your belief in us.
And what have we given you?
Tell us how we can ever repay
what you gave us every day
of service to our country.
Tell us how we can ever repay
the faith you placed in us
to do the right thing
with the freedom you won
on battlefields we never see,
hidden by our selfish need
to pretend freedom has no cost.
You pay the price for us
every day in every way
that truly counts.
We see you.
We honor you.
We love you.
When we think of you.
Today, we do.
And, tomorrow, too.
This, I promise you.
Filed under POETRY
Study history.
Sugar’s past moves to the future
through maple tree’s sap.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 
NOVEMBER 8, 2022
Fear is funny that way.
Sometimes it runs hot.
Sometimes it runs cold.
Sometimes it sits and cries.
Sometimes it runs and hides
inside the mouth
under the tongue
where it is held hostage,
until it bursts forth in words
which ride on unleashed breath
in gasps and gulps
but flying free across the breach
to land on other tongues
younger, stronger, more free
to speak the truth
from mouths opened wide
whose words turn into votes
that set aside liars and their lies.
Then fear, finally, subsides.
Then words can move forward
to cool the earth,
to warm the hearth,
to fill us once again
with pride.
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Filed under COMMENTARY, POETRY, POLITICS
Tagged as politics, VOTE, youth