Tag Archives: children

THERE ARE NO WORDS

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There are no words.

Not even thoughts nor prayers

can escape beyond the grief.

Three nine year old Nashville children

could not hold the line

we asked and trained them to do.

The line has grown and stretched

and wrapped itself around

Columbine, Margory Stoneman Douglas,

Uvalde, Sandy Hook, Amish school, 

Pulse, Binghampton, Carthage nursing home,

University of Texas tower, University of Virginia,

Virginia Tech, Northern Illinois University

Washington Navy Yard, Fort Hood one and two,

San Bernardino, Edmund Post Office,

San Ysidro Mc Donald’s, LA dance studio,

El Paso and Virginia Walmarts, Planned Parenthood,

Birmingham church potluck, Living Church of God,

Sacramento and Texas First Baptist Church,

Tree of Life synagogue, Sikh Temple, 

Buffalo and Boulder supermarkets, IHOP

Molson Coors and Hartford Beer, 

Fed X, UPS, Xerox, Lockheed Martin.

The list goes on and on stretching ever longer

the lines we should never cross

until lines wrap our feet and ankles

no longer able to march in the streets.

Until lines wrap our hands and fists

no longer able to wrap them around a pen to write new law,

nor lift them in the air with promise to end what we saw.

Until lines wrap around around our heads and stuff our mouths

no longer able to speak out loud, only muffled groans of despair.

There are no words.

There are no words.

There are no words.

But, words have never been enough.

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PUTIN REPUBLICANS

If Republicans take control of the House.

McCarthy promises Putin wins.

Not just in Ukraine,

to whom McCarthy says he will refuse aid

which we now give to fight off blood and bone Russians

using real Iranian drones and North Korean missiles.

Worse or not, McCarthy also refuses

to fight Russians within,

hidden behind the faces of Republicans

who spout Russian lies

while taking Russian cash

to increase adds to propagandize

and fill their pockets.

“Oh! What tangled web we weave

when first we practice to deceive.”

A refrain that never ends;

not with Trump, nor Guiliani, nor Rubio,

nor Lindsey, nor Dewine, nor La Rose, nor Yost,

nor so many others, too numerous to list

who would sell their souls 

for a dollar or a ruble…

or simply….re-election.

Such a defection to the other side

is not partisan politics.

That died long ago.

The defection is to Russia

and autocrats who control

all the wealth and power

they can lay hands on,

as if blessed by the hands of Christian nationalists

such as Flynn, and preachers like him,

who protests women’s control in privacy

which expands to every human right

which threatens us with autocrats’ control.

Go vote, for Putin. Vote Republican!

And soon, you will need to hide

not just your money and your pride

but your women and your children;

you know, those you think you own.

You don’t and never have.

They are not yours to give away.

But, they are yours to protect.

But, it seems I forget

you stopped that long ago.

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THE WORLD IS COUNTING ON YOU

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I asked the question on my mind

to Mom and Dad long ago.

How did you not know

the Germans were rounding up Jews,

and Gypsies and dissidents who cared

that their nation was being overtaken

by Nazis who sowed despair

in Poland, Austria and France?

How could America divert her glance

from war looming on the horizon?

I did not understand then.

I do not understand now

why until Pearl Harbor 

Americans shrugged a brow.

Not Dad, he enlisted long before Pearl.

He saw that war knocked on our door

as he escorted ships full 

of lend-lease goods to Britain’s shores.

Like Ukrainians, we hoped Britains

could forestall a world-wide war

that Americans must fight.

Out of mind, out of sight

seems to be not only a universal dodge

but an eternal one as well,

lasting across generations 

with shallow memories.

As then, now, we have fascists here at home

with white supremacy guiding their views

and politicians pleading their cause

as the nation’s own, ignoring American principles

of freedom and equality

as they burn books and block votes

and bind women to their side

that they may attack children

and threaten life with weapons

of war in schools, churches, synagogues 

and even grocery stores.

Are such threats truly unseen?

Are such threats overcome by entertainment T.V.?

Americans know the score

on Dancing with the Stars and Housewives

from too many cities to keep count.

And, yet, have no time to explore

candidates and policies before they vote,

if they do vote with raised brows 

at a ballots’ surprise of choices to be made.

So, they stay away, and let war descend

without raising a hue or cry.

Soon to be come a nation occupied

by foreign notions from foreign nations

who did not even need to raise a gun

to destroy democracy for every American.

It need not be this way.

Get to work and learn the truth.

for once, put aside your play.

Then go vote on election day.

It is the least, the very least

you can do.

The world is counting on you.

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KILLING OUR CHILDREN

The garden is awash in earths tears, 

unleashed by climate change fears,

carried on gusts of wind beating down

on an already soaked ground

where drenched petals now lie spent.

The sky cried for days, nothing really new.

But now she cries for others, too;

not only herself as her rhythms are torn loose.

She cries for miles of wounded souls

across America’s fields of woe

as Americans try to cope with the pain

of children ignored, wounded and slain.

Guns locked and loaded against all

who are not white men with moneyed eyes

which blind their view of progressive skies

opened to all that is bright and new;

like children who seek to grow up wise,

appreciating every new experience

as an exploration of greater happiness.

Even childlike innocence is not enough 

to save the lives of little ones

when war is waged by hopeless men

preyed upon by sellers of guns

who magnify phony fears for profit

and ratings and votes.

Earth and I have come undone,

hopes dampened by clouds of tears

hiding the sun. Each child a flower

mown down, unable to run to safety.

Not one.

Not a single one.

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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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I NEVER FELT SO SMALL BEFORE

I never felt so small before

Tiny dot in a universe of stars

viewed on a clear night 

as i looked up at the sky.

This, this I know. 

But not this smallness 

of heart, and mind, and soul

discovered in the face of war.

War I always fought.

War I always sought

to end and make no more.

And not just war over borders

against peoples and nations;

but war against colors of skin,

war against sexual orientation,

war against religion,

war against women’

war against children.

The list goes on and looms large,

larger than I can cope,

destroying all hope.

I never felt so small before.

I struggle to find a way to do more

than put words on a pages

while all around me uncivil war wages.

I never felts small before.

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SEND IN THE PLANES

It is uncomfortable.

It causes pain.

Is it insane?

or, is there a good reason

to refrain 

from sending in the planes?

Watching a fight

from the sidelines

is no way to win the bout. 

Democracy must win.

Never doubt.

Planes sit on tarmacs

as children die

in the arms of the wounded.

It is uncomfortable

to watch their pain.

Send in the planes!

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READ THE DAMN BOOK:before it is banned for bad language

How does one write poetry

while bombs cluster fuck humanity 

and babies are born in bomb shelters?

Ukraine is the latest round of neglect

of children too long the object

of adult selfish-need to be free

of responsibility for anyone but “me”.

Each night children bed down

on cold ground, homeless, hungry, alone.

Or, if lucky, four to a bed before eviction

kicks them and their mom to the street.

Each day children dodge bullets

not only to and from school,

but behind doors barricaded by desks.

Suicide soars among the young.

They watch fire devour tree and flower

as rivers run dry or expire in mud

left behind by a flood.

They watch oceans mired in plastic mulch

rise to drown coastlines and streets

where sewers overflow to taint

the water they drink from lead pipes.

Those are the lucky ones 

who need not walk water miles 

in jugs held aloft on tired feet

with tired minds and tired smiles.

Plastic lurks in cattle feed and breast milk.

We feed our children plastic.

Is this the world we dream of leaving our children?

Is this what allows us to press our tangled hands in our laps

as tanks and cluster bombs mow our children down ?

Ukraine is another chapter in the book we refuse to read,

lest we take some responsibility.

This is the only poem I have today

as I watch children await 

the school bus driving them to their fate

written in the book of life.

Read the damn book!

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Z’kye Husain

Some days the shame and disappointment

strangles words ready

to erupt and disrupt all sensibility.

I am without tranquility.

In the Sixties racial stereotypes

hung heavy from the tree

of white supremacy.

The weight of reality

hung heavy on the children of Africa,

torn from loving arms and proud history.

The little ones feared my touch

on nappy-haired heads

I clasped with love until they trusted

my joy in the texture of their lives.

“I am Black and I am proud!”,

I taught them to say.

And teaching hope along the way

offered the chance to redraw destinies

and reclaim equal possibilities.

These children reclaimed rights,

led the good fight,

worked hard for their rights

and mine.

Yours, too, women and LGBTQ.

But, white backlash has been fierce

at every step of the way.

And when it seemed victory grew near

hatred and stereotypes born in fear

and insecure ego led by id unleashed

terror, once held in check

but never defeated;

allowed to fester and grow more intense.

Where did hope go?

To video recordings on cell phones

disclosing what had been hidden from sight

that white supremacy maintained tight

control of its wealth and power with stealth.

Police treating white children with dignity

As they attacked a Black children with immunity.

The mall was crowded. People filmed it all.

It went viral.

And still, there are those who see justice

instead of racism.

Who argue they acted according to normal protocol

instead of racial stereotypes.

Sixty years from the sixties

and I still rejoice in the phrase

“ I am Black and I am proud!”.

Sixty years from the sixties

and I still feel shame and disappointment

in my whiteness, and that of my country

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GAME OF PRETEND

THE GAME OF PRETEND

Louise Annarino

4-23-2013

 

Underpaid taxes

and overrun budgets

shutter rec-centers

factories

schools

hope

while dog parks flourish

with barks of pleasure

by pets at leisure

well fed,well groomed,well vetted,

paraded,protected pooches

while homeless children

follow unemployed parents

left behind middle class time

to unfamilar beds

at night,

up and out

at dawn

to make it through

one       more      day

without childhood play.

Thus, we pretend

our children are okay.

“Whoof”!

Time to feed the dog.

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