Tag Archives: Biden

GODDESSES AMONG US

I see now why the first deities were female.

Only a woman speaks to the soul of  birth

and breathes new life into 

every soul on this beloved earth.

Goddesses with distended wombs

weighted with hopefulness

are found in every ancient tomb.

Our future had seemed lost.

The entire world seemed doomed.

Death in every household loomed.

A globe on fire steeped in hateful rhetoric

gunned down every effort to escape 

a despondent, hopeless fate.

Covid stole the innocence

of even those usually sitting on the fence.

No one was content to wait and see

what November wrought for democracy.

Moneyed oligarchs of greed stole hope 

as well control over justice with abuse of power.

Federalist  Society Judges delayed justice

hour after hour after hour after hour.

Even the Supreme Court undermined

the Constitution which is yours and mine;

not theirs, not wealthy donors, not those in power.

Then she, she, she, she, she, she, she

took the torch and raised it high.

Emma Lazarus’ female guards our harbor.

Kamala guards us in our darkest hour.

Her smile and laughter brings us

up from our knees, our prayers answered.

A goddess has arisen and made a fuss

of all the lies and hate-filled derision.

Her solemn promise made to us

that she will fight at our side.

She will tan the evil-doers hide

as mothers have always done,

chastising our sins one-by-one.

And so we rise with delighted surprise

to shout as one that we are not done,

and we are not going back where death resides.

We are going forward where life begins.

To a place where elections are open to all.

To a place where life is treasured not spent

on greed and control and all that is indecent.

We are headed to the polls to give our consent

to a mother goddess from heaven’s descent;

called by Joe’s prayers, who always seems to know

what we need and whom to follow.

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PAVED ROADS

Station Road rebuilding 2 by Jonathan Wilkins is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0

The road to success is paved with cash.

Numbers add up with each step.

Roads are blown to dust

when there is no money to keep them up.

Campaigns are long roads in America.

The longer the road, the higher the cost.

Those who run races along America’s roadways

are not so fleet-footed as they appear.

Their feet often slide on cash piled too high.

Their feet often slow on cash piled too low.

Whenever you wonder “why”, follow the money,

its ebb and flow, its surrogate paths

to hide those in the know.

Senators and Congressmen cannot always follow

the path of a lead runner when the cash is low.

They find new paths where money will cushion

a challenging and uphill election or re-election.

Still wondering “why?” And who decides?

Ask the right questions. Swallow your pride.

Then you will know. You are along for a ride.

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FIREHOSE OF LIES

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The firehose of lies

was no surprise.

Propaganda tries

to bind our eyes

that we can only see

distorted reality.

First the claim 

of aging incompetency,

then the firehose of lies overcomes

and brings us to our knees.

Suddenly, we panic with loud cries

Find someone who can remain on his feet

or in the election we face defeat.

Yes, President Biden stumbled trying to debate

a firehose of lie and keep things straight.

The force of the hose un-checked

was simply too great.

Instead of taking away the firehose

wielded by Trump to our government depose,

we ask another to stand in place

of the man most able and willing

save America’s world leadership place.

The firehose of lies is the disgrace,

as is the man who wields it

as he sneers and smirks

watching democracy fall on its face.

Putin, it is clear, admires Trump’s stance

laughingly watching Biden dance

as he tries to withstand, tries and tries

to awaken us all to the firehose of lies.

Instead of taking away our presidential prize,

take away the firehose of lies.

Firehosing is a propaganda tactic that involves pushing out large mounts of false and misleading information at once. The term was first applied to Russian propaganda strategies intended to silent dissent and mislead the public. Wikipedia, Jan.13, 2021. Actual use of firehoses is used in this country to silence protesters. It has been used against those Americans active in Civil Rights campaigns.

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LOVE ‘EM OR HATE ‘EM

Cousins at play in public park: Tina, Victoria, Louise Annarino 1954

I have seen this hate before. I could not understand it then.I do not understand it now. When my mother lay dying it became clear to me that the only measure of a life is the ability to love. A body shriveled by cancer’s reach into every cell, wracked by pain, realizing death is near holds onto love, not life. Death’s grip is too fierce to break. But, the only thing death cannot destroy is love. I saw it in my dying mother’s eyes, reflected in my own. That love binds us still. It always will. So, no, I do not understand the need to hold onto hate when love is so much stronger. Love reveals our strength to us; hate, our weakness. Love displays our courage; hate, our cowardice. So, no, I do not understand hate.

As child of Italian immigrants, growing up in the 1950’s, in a neighborhood populated by two German immigrant families, dozens of Italian immigrants and a few Irish immigrants, I learned my place. Venturing too far away from the four block area adjacent to the railroad tracks we inhabited brought me to the Appalachian whites nearby, who could not afford to live anywhere else, so had to live near the despised and hated immigrants. Our Catholicism, a commonality of each immigrant group, did not endear us to “Americani”, either. We learned to ignore their taunts and sneers, threats and minor assaults with whatever weapon they wielded…a switch from a shrub, a golf ball, a pitched badminton racket, a rock. We were careful to avoid the “hoods” carrying switch blades. Skinned knees caused while running to escape and falling, split lips or bruises were not uncommon. To be clear, not all of those “Americani” participated in bully tactics; but, too few fully embraced us, and none defended us. I have seen this hate before. I have felt this hate before.

My parents explained that hate is not universal. Only cowards and ignorant fools cling to hate. Most people know how to love. Thus, we were admonished to never hate anyone. Stay strong. Show love no matter what. Be brave. Never start a fight; but, never run from one. Stand up to bullies. They are weak, fearful cowards and will back down. Hate is not endemic to white people, nor to any group. But, within every group there are cowards…bold, brassy, loud and stupid cowards. We held our ground at the playground. We ignored the jokes and jibes. We ducked the projectiles. We moved forward when told to get back, staring with fierce determination to continue to swing, to play ball, to run races. We seldom allowed hate to stop our games and ruin our fun. I learned to withhold my smirk when I saw the bully fall back and slink away. I learned to love despite the hate directed my way. I invited the bully to stay and play. Some did. Thus, we broke the force that would have driven us away from enjoying our childhood. We grew strong, fearless and full of hope for better days.

The recent anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy brought back these childhood memories. When the announcement of his death came over our PA system every class adjourned to the chapel at our Catholic high school. We prayed the rosary together. We prayed for comfort, peace and love in our country. Then, we were sent home to grieve with our families. I gathered my books,  not knowing what to expect next, and when school might resume. Across the street was a public junior high school. As I walked by on my way home, clad in my school uniform identifying me as a Catholic, one  by one, several public school students shouted at me, “We finally killed him!” “He got what was coming to all you filthy Catholics !” “ This is what happens to Catholics who don’t know their place.” I remember these taunts and all the others. They are tattooed on my heart and on my brain. I even can feel the look of confusion on my puckered brow, wondering how these young kids could hold so much hate for their own president, and for me, a total stranger who had done them no harm. How could they so dishonor the wonderful country we shared, and its democratic principles.  No one is more aware of or more grateful for American principles than immigrants are. These long-time inhabitants seemed not to recognize such values at all.

That was then. This is now. Ignorant people still cling to their hate. But the indifference to the haters, the lack of comment rebuking haters which I expected but sadly never heard led to this day. Now, hate is fueled by the right wing of the Republican Party, and not condemned by its members. Worse, its chosen presidential candidate, whose first election succeeded because of, if not regardless of, his hate-spewed speech and hate-filled acts toward people of color, women  and non-Christians is further encouraged to continue hate-filled policies and practices which will kill our democracy as surely as it killed Medgar Evers, Emmett Till, John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and Robert Kennedy. I have seen this hate before. I did understand it then. I do not understand it now.

I always knew I became a lawyer to stand in the way of those who blocked programs, policies and practices which honor diversity and seek justice for all. I would be in position where such efforts could be implemented and enforced. Only now, do I understand it was my armor to protect that child in me who still believes that good can prevail once we are willing to stand up to bullies; whether that bully is a landlord, bank, or company. The law is the bulwark against hate and harm, against greed and abuse of power. Now, I watch my beloved Law and its Courts undermined  by those bullies by Republicans in state legislatures and the U.S.Congress, by Republican governors and secretaries of state and states attorneys general who support a bully as their fund-raising cheer-leader to cover their own dark deeds. The alternatives are not to choose between two evils; but, to choose good over evil. To choose love over hate. I watch the silent white supremacists alongside them allow them free rein. People of Color, Native Americans, immigrants have always known the Law favored the wealthy and powerful, majority of them white men. Now, we all recognize the system that has been in place for so long. As a nation we are reaping what we allowed to be sown.  I still do not understand the hate that has allowed this to go on for so long. But, I will still fight such hate with love; until my dying breath…then beyond.

I know how to survive bullies. I am not worried for myself. I watch my country try to survive the bullies, those they eat dinner with at their private clubs who are shocked by what they see…what the oppressed have always seen. Yet, they stay silent or act entertained. Or worse yet, they choose to ignore what they have not wanted to notice.  It is my countrymen whom  I hope will uphold its constitution, its citizens I hope will stand up to bullies and vote them out of office before it is too late. The power of bullies’ wealth can be overcome  by our numbers, if we vote. That is a big if. Mobilize, register, transport and assist voters to the polls. Write Letters to the Editors. Speak out on social media to friends and family. Meet your neighbors and recruit their support for the efforts it will take to stay the course of a democratic republic. I do not understand the hate. I never will. It does not matter. What matters is I will not allow hate to rule my country, nor anyone in it. I choose love, a love embodied in a country which puts no man above the law, and believes all men are created equal, with unalienable rights. I took an oath to uphold the constitution. I took an oath to love.

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GRATITUDE FOR HARD TIMES, By Louise Annarino,August 6, 2012

GRATITUDE FOR THE HARD TIMES, By Louise Annarino, August 6, 2012

 

The day I left home for college in 1967 my dad handed me $20. I tried not to accept it, knowing my dad’s pay was only $50 per week and it meant a huge sacrifice. But he insisted saying, “Mommy and I don’t know when we will be able to give you any money again, so take it.” When I got to campus I found an on-campus job through government sponsored work-study program with the help of campus counselors. I also found an intermittent off-campus job stuffing envelopes at Hillel House, having gotten to know the rabbi while taking his free seminar on Martin Buber. I was the first to show up the day he was accepting applications, and he asked me to wait until Jewish students had registered, promising a spot to my Catholic self should he have a remaining opening.At the end of registration 3 hours later I, and a friend who was is the daughter of a Methodist minister, were his only students. I learned more from him than any other professor that first year on campus, and he called me whenever he needed extra office help. The watchful African-American woman who ran Lincoln Tower’s snack bar on Sunday nights, the only meal not included in our meal plan, asked me one Sunday night, “Why do you never order anything when you come through the line with your friends?”. I explained I was a scholarship student and could not afford Sunday night dinner but liked to sit and chat with my friends before we got back to our studies. She immediately told me “Stand right there!” and placed a cheeseburger, fries and a salad on a tray and told me to come through her line every Sunday and she would make sure I had something to eat. I did and she did. It was great not to be hungry.

These acts of generosity put me through college. Yes,I worked hard and constantly. I worked at least 2 jobs over Christmas and Spring breaks.I took summer classes and worked full-time. I soon became an RA (resident advisor) to earn free room and board, and kept a part-time job to cover books and incidentals. But that is not the issue. Everyone works hard in some way at some time; those of us from impoverished backgrounds in every way, all of the time. The issue is that I could not have obtained a bachelor, master and law degrees without the help of others every step of the way. I did not do it alone. No one does anything alone. The thankfulness I feel for those who helped is a constant source of faith and hope for me. Gratitude has made life bearable during the hard times. I can never pay forward so much as I have been given. There is not enough time left in my single life to repay the kindness of so many lives.

When I hear President Obama attacked in political ads featuring business owners chiding him for demeaning their accomplishment by suggesting they did not “make it” on their own; and hear Mitt Romney at the close continue the misrepresentation of the president’s words by affirming, “I am Mitt Romney and I approve this message” I cringe. What arrogance and bravado is needed to so clearly lie about the president who has done everything possible to help business,especially those very small-business owners appearing in such ads. How ironic that Mitt Romney and members of his party who have repeatedly blocked the pro-business agenda of president Obama, and Mitt Romney who off-shores workers’ jobs and his profits after gutting American companies  thinks he has the moral authority to approve any message on American job and business creation. He made his billions destroying jobs and small businesses.The Paul Ryan budget he backs would eliminate  help for small businesses.

I digress. Again, this is not the point. The point is no businessman created any business on his own. Businesses are not only built and thrive because of infrastructure and tax policies supported by tax dollars. They are built by workers who labor for the business owner day after day, week after week; workers who are educated in our elementary and secondary schools, and in  our universities and technical programs; workers who are trained in union apprenticeship and journeymen programs; workers who earn minimum wage or union wage while the owner pays himself a salary 10 times (or more)the highest worker’s wage and takes a percentage of the profits. Worker productivity also builds his business. He does nothing alone, but take the credit.

Instead of a faith and hope filled life of gratitude such business owners appear to lead bitter and fearful lives. I started out being disgusted with them. Now, I feel only pity for them. However, such men cannot be elected to lead this country forward. They are not to be trusted with the fruits of our labor. They do not understand it. They do not appreciate it. They do not honor it. They would squander it and steal it to fill the empty void in their own lives.

It is men like President Barack Obama, Vice-President Joe Biden, and  Ohio Senator Sherrod Brown who remind us of our value, who support our dreams, who invest in our futures. it is they who will lead this country through hard times, as so many helped me through mine.

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FOR WANT OF A NAIL: CHILDREN'S NURSERY RHYME

 

FOR WANT OF A NAIL: CHILDREN’S NURSERY RHYME

Louise Annarino

March 16, 2012

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

-“Confesio Amantis” – John Gower- 1390

-Benjamin Franklin – Poor Richard’s Almanac

 

“During World War II, this verse was framed and hung on the wall of the Anglo-American Supply Headquarters in London, England.” http://www.rhymes.org.uk/index.htm

Pick up your hammers and drive the message home that we cannot allow a misdirected effort to reduce deficit allowing the United States of America’s middle class, the glue that holds together any democracy, to be lost “for want of a nail”. David Cameron, Prime Minister of Great Britain,who recently paid a state visit to the United States,and President Barack Obama probably did not recite together the nursery rhyme “For Want of a Nail” during their talks; although it has long history on both sides of the pond. Many Americans and Brits seem to have forgotten it, and are failing to heed its wisdom. Vice-President Joe Biden’s speech to UAW workers in Toledo indicates that the Obama Administration has not forgotten the rhyme’s wisdom, and has the strength of conviction to supply the nails to keep the country working.

There are those who cry President Obama does too much; he’s a socialist! There are those who say he does too little; he’s in bed with Wall Street!  I would remind each side of another nursery rhyme, “Goldilocks and the Three Bears”. President Obama is helping our economy, our energy development, our environment, our health care protections, our food-water-air safety, immigration reform, women’s rights, LGBT rights, voting rights etc. “just right”. Would the president like to see less obstruction and more cooperation  from House and Senate Republicans for even better outcomes? Of course. But, the Republicans have indicated since the election, even before President Obama was sworn into office and daily since, that their primary goal is a failed presidency; thus, the country’s failure. Republicans continue to withhold the nails needed to build the country and ensure its economic security. Holding back the nails males it difficult for the president to rebuild America. The fact that he has accomplished so much despite such obstruction is because as Joe Biden put it, the president is “tough as nails”.

We must elect those who agree we cannot suffer the U.S.’s failure “for want of a nail” to the House and the Senate. Support the Obama-Biden ticket.  Support Democrats willing to hammer some nails alongside Joe Biden and Barack Obama. Elect Democrats who are tough as nails.

Help get out the vote. Help others to obtain the I.D. they will need to vote, get them registered to vote, then provide transportation to the polls. BE the hammer! BE the nail!

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