PROTECT MARIUPOL’S HEROES

I cannot forget Mariuopl’s  brave defenders.

Now, thrown into play by their surrender

to Putin and Russian offenders

of all that is sacred in Mary’s city.

Now, left to evildoers without pity.

Media seems to ignore this ignominy

replacing the glory of the sexier story 

of fighting to the death, which has more cachet

as breaking news than a prisoner switch, any day.

Misplaced attention and failure to attend details

endangers Ukrainian defenders on the rails.

Instead of an exchange, they face trials,

and more victimization mile after mile

by the butchers who claim those who fought back

are war criminals, to cover their own tracks.

Mariupol’s men, women and children were blown off the map.

Ukraine’s borders scattered by Russia’s attempt to overlap

its peaceful neighbors, no longer members of the USSR.

Now seeking a new democratic order, looking afar

to The West whose history mirrors their own more fully.

Putin’s Russia determined to remain a USSR bully.

Now, Ukrainian heroes are more in need of our protection

and our media looking for its own glory screens off in defection.

Shine the light on heroes’ lives Russia bends to their destruction.

Use your news power to defend each hour of their lives and protect them.

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UMBRELLA PEOPLE

Umbrellas block the sun as well as rain.

Create the fantasy we  fearfully hold

that we are really in control.

Mother Nature knows far better.

Physics yet unknown follows to the letter

the balance of chaos in the multiverse.

In every verse is hidden the winds of change.

It is better to explore than ignore and guard against

with flimsy excuses that bend in the wind,

or fly out of our hands, or off their stands

when harsher winds blow than those expected

while we thought ourselves protected.

We hide beneath umbrellas blocking the sense

we were born with to survive this world,

lost with each umbrella that unfurls.

Run in the sun to find shade among the trees. 

Walk in the rain and feel the mud squeeze

between your toes until you once again know

the glory of communion with Mother Earth.

Let senses restore the sense given at birth.

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KEEP ON WALKING

On the street where I walked

held tight by Daddy’s hand

fear brought us to  a stop

as I noticed the words of a man

on the sandwich board he wore:

“The world is coming to an end.”

Daddy quickly gleaned

what had stopped me in my tracks.

The weight of concern at such scene

felt in the tension of my hand.

“Is this true?”

 I asked the most honest man I knew.

Daddy never missed a beat 

as he urged along my feet

glued to the sidewalk by the man’s chant.

Daddy said, “This is nothing new.

Every generation has said the same

since the world began.

It is up to us to make it untrue.

And, we always do.

“When you grow up,” he continued,

There will be a world for you.

People always find a way

to save what they love.

So, just keep on walking

and do what you can do.

And never give up.

The world is too fine 

to let a hopeless man define

the future that belongs to you.

Just keep on walking.

Keep on walking.”

He did. And, I do.

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ON THE PLAYGROUND

Blistering heat on the soles of feet

bared to the earth.

Summer’s stories are foretold 

by shoes left in the closet

as a deposit to pay

for fun in the sun on its way.

Summer is coming when running free

becomes a certainty for shoeless children

and adults like me eager to play.

Let us all run free

from bullets and tanks

from white supremacy

from loss of our humanity

from threats to women

and nursing-less children

from over-heated earth

and timing of births

from storms and fires

from the need to be admired

from fear and remorse

when we failed to stay the course.

Kick off your shoes.

Feel life’s reality. 

Restore your sanity.

For today, simply play.

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GOOD MORNING WORLD

Early morning risers know the scent of dew.

See it split into rainbows

as the dawn shines through.

Notice buds held tight through the night

loosen their hold on night’s dreams,

as day’s stories unfold, yet to be written.

Early morning risers are smitten 

and blessed by a world newly dressed.

Ready to face the world reborn,

with souls un-torn by yesterday’s stress.

Bathed in cool light ,filling every cell’s space,

with grace and delight alight on their face.

Good morning, world!

I am here.

I still live.

I am ready to give.

Good morning world!

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THE HOLY TRINITY

This Sunday the garden is my cathedral.

Where I can kneel un-masked

among hostas and ferns

and turn my gaze upon Creation,

Third person of the Trinity

Who sows the seeds of Christianity

Buried deep with the Second

in the fertile soil of the earth

prepared by the First,

Master Gardener of our souls.

I contemplate Second’s rising

as I ponder the resurrection

of every living thing that grows

after a long winter of cold and snow.

What prayers are these I offer

in the pantheon of gods of long ago?

The prayers of an immune-compromised 

Catholic unable to sit among 

un-masked rows of worshippers 

kneeling in too-few pews

listening to the Good News

spoken by priests within brick and mortar,

while I  kneel in the open-air garden.

My communion is deep if incomplete.

I sign the cross and sigh,

breathing in the energy of the Trinity,

which keeps my soul alive.

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CHARGE AHEAD

Recharging is a must

for laptops, phones and such.

Lawn mowers, trimmers

and vacuum cleaners, too,

Simply plug in rechargers

and they act as good as new.

How does one recharge self

and not sit useless on the shelf ?

How does one plug in again

after pandemic sets the world a-spin?

Too few outlets are available.

Too few friends are amenable

to one whose immunity

compromises community.

One goes solar. One goes green.

One recharges in the Spring garden

amidst life yet unseen,

brought to mobility 

by endless possibility.

Charging ahead, hopefully;

making peace with rabbits, 

squirrels and even skunks, 

inhabiting a world much shrunk.

On such dreams endemics are born

to recharge a world too careworn

by too hot a viral sun’s passage

without blocking truth with sun glasses

darkened to hide the reality

that some of us will never be free.

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SAVE THE MOTHERS

Mother’s Day is but once a year.

A single day to recognize

the source of our beginnings,

the well-spring of our lives.

“Every day is Children’s Day,” 

Mom would say. “No need to name

a special time to recognize children’s worth.” 

But that was then and this is now.

The only recognition now is the day of birth.

What happens next has too little value.

The lives of children lie on fields left fallow.

Now, children are hungry and homeless.

Now, children are untutored and untaught.

Now, children are raped and bombed.

Now, children are drugged and addicted.

Now, children are placed in fear of their demise

so great, they take their own lives.

Now, children are sexualized.

Now, children are not our wealth.

Now, greed uses children to gain wealth.

Mothering requires more today

than being an honored guest at one’s own party.

Mother’s bear more honor and more stress.

Mothers bear heavier burdens for the children unblessed

by a nation whose wealth is forged on forgetfulness

of the needs of women and children.

Mother’s burdens are no longer their own; 

but, their children’s as well.

Saving the children is not enough.

First, we must save the mothers.

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ODE TO MY BROTHERS

Three brothers had I by my side.

Clothed in Sicilian charm

and girded by American pride

they showed up unexpectedly

to protect and defend their sister.

I  valued their strength and their lift.

I lifted weights by their side.

Still they believed 

they were more fit than I,

who won ever race

on ballerina legs in full stride.

All went well 

unless I tried to tell 

them what to do or how.

Respect was a two-way street;

except, there were only a few 

I was free to pursue.

So, I disobeyed brothers’ orders

and crossed all the borders

they tried to enforce.

Still, they showed up unexpectedly

at every movie and dance 

where young men might be

looking for a chance

to cajole and control a young lady.

I discovered, that unlike loving brothers such as mine,

men could be cruel and threatening

to women who refused

to stay in their place.

I am a sister much blessed

by noogies and teasing

that seem relentless.

I am a sister well-loved,

a sister well-protected,

and always respected.

What do women want?

We want it all.

Just like men do.

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FALLING FROM A MORE PERFECT UNION

Alito’s words stilled my own.

A falling body has no time

to waste on words when breath

is so precious and undermined

by space displaced by diving

thoughts toward a very dark place.

It is not just Roe which falls with me;

but, likely Obergefell, Griswold 

and Loving, too. So old,

I recall them all. The sacred tome

which gives the rights owed humanity

is our constitution which gives privacy a home

of safety, freedom and security.

Alito steals them all from me.

The greater fear is that he would say

mob rule would bind our hands again 

with state’s rights to up-end a nation’s democracy.

The word privacy does not exist, so he says.

Nor does the word slavery, nor contraception,

nor sexuality, nor women’s and persons of color’s

right to vote and have a say in lives they own;

because they don’t in the words originally

written for white land-owning gentlemen alone.

But that is the  point, one no longer hidden.

White male supremacy, and protecting the wealthy

is Republicans’ true north. Which is why 

even women support letting democracy die.

Why even kind men still vote for extremist

candidates they know can save their wealth

by telling the most outrageous lies.

Stolen election is not the first lie.

The first was that women and Africans are less

than any white man of wealth could allow

to be free, for fear their fields of wealth

once shared, would lie fallow. 

I thought I could no longer write poetry

while my love for country makes me cry

knowing my beloved Law is often denied.

The law is sacrosanct, you see. 

Alito’s words mean the courts are no longer free.

And that will be the death of the rights

of you and me, and perhaps the world

whom my country once led toward democracy.

The world is falling along with me.

I am not alone if you join me and vote 

for those who would protect us as we fall,

and right the wrong words which stand so tall

we can no longer recognize truth at all.

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