Tag Archives: courage

NO KINGS DAY

Acrylic on canvass by Louise Annarino

The day begins with signs

Of all that any patriot finds

In need of expression

To resist oppression.

We line the streets

Feet deep

Only to meet

Aggression

From those who seek

Our suppression.

Gerrymandered districts

Are incomplete,

Unable to meet

Fair representation,

Denying the nation

one person one vote,

Intimidation afloat

In every state.

We pray it is not too late.

We pray our efforts matter.

We pray our mad-as-hatter

Administration

Stops destroying our beloved nation.

We sing. We dance. We shout.

This is what democracy is about.

No kings today.

No kings in any way.

No kings over courts’ justice.

No kings over any of us.

Every king eventually falls.

We do not want a king at all.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

DREAM OF MY SELF

Photo by Eva Bronzini on Pexels.com

In dreams we are known

in ways we can’t know ourselves.

Keep dreaming, my soul.

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AMERICA DANCING TO MAGA-TIME

Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.com

The ballerina pirouettes.

Round and round she goes.

Her satin slippers turn endlessly

as she balances on her toes.

Dizzying it would certainly be

to spin so unnecessarily.

But, she uses a trick she very well knows.

She picks a single point in sight

and holds her focus on that point, so tight.

She keeps her balance and dances on,

steady as the graceful dancer we all know.

And when the music ends

as every song must

she takes her bow and we all cheer.

America is well and still on her feet,

avoiding the fall we all feared.

America shall dance again

as soon as the new song begins.

Voters shall pick a tune they enjoy,

one that cares for every girl and boy,

for every color, race and creed,

for laborers and workers, rather than greed.

The Land of the free.The home of the brave.

The audience of those who refused to cave.

Ballerinas keep their eyes on the prize.

Focus and keep dancing: a word to the wise.

Keep dancing to your own true beat.

Stay focused and stay on your feet.

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WHERE HAS LOVE GONE?

Photo by Nicola Barts on Pexels.com

I do not know where love has gone.

Into hiding, I believe, free from harm.

So much anger clothed in love’s costume,

hate hidden from view so I am not consumed

by the true nature of what the costume hides;

all except the hands fisted by my side,

which velvet-suaded gloves still reveal

all the angry violence I could wield,

if I were not so terrified of the pain

I could visit upon others. I refrain.

I refuse to become just like those

who name-call with fake smiles and pose

under crosses, and above crowds,

saying the the ugly hate-filled truth out loud.

I desperately try to maintain my balance.

I believe compassion bears no allowance

to strike back when under attack.

But, turning the other cheek is a trait I truly lack.

Never take a punch and not fight back, I heard dad say.

But, never start the fight, if you can safely walk away.

Is this where we are now, afraid to put up the fists

when the attack is scheduled on government lists?

How long do we wait for the blows to fall?

How far before we are imprisoned inside the wall

of government ordnance and secret police?

How will we ever know any peace?

I do not know where love has gone.

I search and I search for however long

it will take me to find it and hold it tight

while I build strength for the coming fight.

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THE RAINS CAME AND CAME AND CAME

Photo by Bud Jenkins on Pexels.com

We keep thinking

it cannot become any worse

this placid earth 

awash in excess or in drought.

Hibiscus big as dinner pates

strung among drenched leaves,

hangs in drooping loops to the ground.

Sun makes its way warily

through clouds weighing the sky down,

new-born leaves water-logged and drowned.

The heavy weight of watered threats

is nearly too much to bear.

Too heavy to breathe, saturated, air

keeps me waiting inside,

Parched lips and  dry-aged skin

too thin to accept such weight again,

hangs loose, losing all pride;

jealous of the hibiscus

which still stands tall

strong enough to resist it all.

I anxiously await a break in the clouds,

days of hope and rest in the sun.

Even the earth is in tears these days.

Like a child I hold my sign and sing aloud

“Rain, rain, go away. Come again

another day.” Or not. Never again

should we women and men

so misbehave and reduce our gardens to tears.

Photo by Mariya B. on Pexels.com

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MEMORIES

Memories

The heart’s memory

Holds truth close for but a moment.

Then moves beyond truth

To a greater reality

To become something more,

Something that can last challenging and comforting,

cherished and caressed

Through boundless eternity.

The stories we tell ourselves

May have little basis in reality.

The heart too easily

Makes fools of us all.

Yet, we become enthralled

As our stories unfold,

Especially with those stories

We have never told.

Held close to the chest,

Such untold stories

Make us look, and feel, our best.

Their power keeps us strong

And able to face all the rest.

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LIGHT UP

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

I am made of stardust

lit by sunlight.

Like lilies of the field

I dig deep into earth

with my toes.

Like birds of the air

I soar on currents stirred

when heat meets cold.

I seek. I soar. I laugh out loud.

I raise my face to the sun.

I dance in moonlight.

My spirit takes flight.

I grow strong.

My beauty abounds.

As earth, my earth

turns round and round.

Time has no meaning

I have found

except to tether my hopes

that change comes around

when most desired,

bright with sounds

of laughter, and courage

unleashed and unbound.

Rejoice in the day,

the month and the year

but stay in the moment.

Have no fear.

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

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ART THERAPY& Haiku

Letting Go of the Old, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, March 2025
Trump Speaks at DOJ, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, March 2025

When things are too hard

to take, take to creation

within and without.

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Filed under art work, POETRY, POLITICS

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025

Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

Worn and weary I 

run away from words hidden 

in the dark of night.

Photo by Nicole Avagliano on Pexels.com

Pained and poured out I

slowly ascend the mountain

reaching toward the light.

Photo by dilbeste on Pexels.com

Strained and so sore I

peruse the new horizon

coming into sight.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Battered but brave I

reach into my open heart.

Love overcomes fright.

Photo by fauxels on Pexels.com

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MERRY CHRISTMAS 2024

Hope is the deep breath needed to sing Carols

heralding Jesus’ birth.

Hope is the breath first breathed into all living things.

Hope is the breath that softens

the hard contours of defended hearts.

Hope is the breath that soothes

the rough edges of fearful minds.

Hope is the breath that animates

the graceful move to gift our very selves.

Hope is the breath that lifts

the blindness of hateful eyes heavenward.

Hope is the breath that challenges

the world to dream of peaceful, new beginnings.

Hope is the breath that stores

the strength needed for moments when courage is needed.

Hope is the breath that brightens and enlightens

the darkness within each breathless soul.

Christmas is a time for deep breaths filled

with hope to face another moment, day, month, year.

Keep breathing is all that is required to fill

the world with Hope.

Each breath keeps Hope alive.

Merry Christmas with every breath taken

deeper in every way, every day

during the Jubilee Year of Hope.

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