Tag Archives: environment

DECONSTRUCTION

Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025

The streets were lined for blocks on end.

Signs reminded all who rejoiced to attend

Why they walked and talked and smiled and waved

At passing cars who braved delays

While drivers honked horns and shouted out

“Vote him out and make it a rout!”

Costumed critters danced to our delight

Knowing their freedom would give him a fright.

Deconstruct the lies we have been told.

Deconstruct the narrative being sold.

Deconstruct the bullie’s hold.

Deconstruct institutional mold.

Gather in peace the young and the old.

Stronger are you, more wise, more bold.

Deconstruct so we can rebuild

What he has destroyed with his minions’ lack of skill.

We know how to do this, and more.

We have done it many times before.

Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025

My thanks to my friends in Clintonville area of Columbus who helped me attend this moment of patriots’ challenge to the con men robbing the USA of its power, wealth, ideals and humanity. The lack of media coverage was appalling. The misrepresentation of attendance numbers cannot be challenged when media fails to provide images of the gatherings. A local station covered it AFTER it was over and crowds had dispersed. Another stated hundreds attended when it was actually thousands. We are here. We are resisting. We are going nowhere until the despotism and kidnapping of people and the Supreme Court, universities, news organizations, social media outlets, medical and public health Institutions… even our very language and the meaning of words and phrases has been brought to an end and freedom restored.

We shall not be silenced.

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BEGGING FOR WORDS

Photo by Tim Gouw on Pexels.com

How is it

that when silence

seems treason

words resist?

When resistance

seems patriotic

words run away

to a hidden place

even poets

cannot find,

to my disgrace.

I do not fear

my words will 

cause me harm.

I fear I shall harm

my words.

I fear I will harm

my very soul.

I fear words so full

of anger, even hate

shall ruthlessly escape.

So, I shut the gate.

Today, I try to climb

above the world enflamed

by bullies with no shame

and view the world

I once knew.

A world sublime

but not perfect,

trying to be better,

trying to do better,

trying to achieve better

for every single soul.

This is the world of old.

Knowing the past

is good as gold.

Lingering in the past

will not help us be bold.

And being bold I am told

is what brings change,

topples bullies and their ilk,

eases harm and soothes

like a glass of warm milk,

after a harrowing hundred days.

I beg words to come out of hiding.

I beg for law and order abiding.

I beg for the wealthy to fund the fight.

I beg for police and soldiers to do what is right.

I beg for teachers to speak truth and empower.

I beg for journalists and media not to cower.

I beg for leaders to seize the moment.

I beg for clergy to calm the torment.

I beg for the silent to speak aloud.

I beg for neighbors to support each other.

I beg for words to shout together.

I beg for words.

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NOT QUITE SILENT

Photo by Karl Byron on Pexels.com

I listened for the voice today.

This is all it had to say. 

My teacup is filled only 1/3 of the way.

Too little water to boil in the pot.

I shall brew my tea and keep it very hot. 

Then add cooler water to the cup.

No harbor will see tea fill it up.

Not exactly as I had willed.

Seeing my beloved democracy killed.

But who am I your will to sway.

My cup does not “filleth over” this cold day.

The half-empty cup seems a blatant warning.

I refuse to name and bring to life

fearfully expected wounds and strife.

The sun blares and cuts the cold air,

melting frost gathered everywhere.

It lies on every surface it seems.

In schoolrooms, libraries, museums,

in corporation and university board rooms. Next,

on airwaves  and in chat rooms and texts. 

In law firms hallowed conference rooms,

and in SCOTUS decisions which seal our doom.

Hard to find a place where the cruelty of iced hearts 

has not settled in, stopping hopefulness at its start.

Hard to know how this day should begin.

Hard to see how we might win.

No birds gather in the yard to eat, drink and sing.

Worms like words stretch frozen on cement pathways.

Hard to stand and walk boldly, or to see our way.

May will bring flowers in graceful bouquets.

But, June, I think, will have the final say.

May summer be full of grace, I pray.

I listened longingly for the hopeful voice today.

But, this…this is all it had to say,

as I watch sunshine melt the frost away.

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LISTENING TO MOTHER EARTH

Photo by Cup of Couple on Pexels.com

Earth, our Mother, in so many ways

never rests, as good mothers everywhere,

until her children are safe

and able to become their very best.

Earth streams winds seldom seen

in ages past, to cleanse the air we breathe

of toxic chemicals and toxic thoughts,

too often ignored until humanity seethes

with anger torn from shattered dreams.

Earth’s tears drown our shores,

our over-run rivers and streams swollen

beyond the banks of civility and decency,

spreading across villages and cities.

We watch earth’s loving children join hands

to help those caught within the bands

of hatred fueled by power and greed,

furthered and supported by religious creed

distorted by self-indulgent need

to retain a control it never had;

dividing the world into good and bad,

which Mother Earth understands

could destroy her children and leave her all alone.

With Mother Earth we make our stand to secure

a future of loving kindness for all her children,

of every kind. Rock, wind, water and fire we implore

have patience with us as we try to create 

a world right, not might, rules once more.

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THE AMERICAN GARDEN

DAFFODILS Louise Annarino, J.D. July 1, 2022

Lack of trust has invaded

in rulings meant to harm.

The Law has always 

been my hope,

stare decisis the blanket

which keeps hope warm

and alive. No more.

The plants in my garden

are travelers, often moved

to new places where 

they better sink in roots

to mend and grow. 

The bulbs, too meander,

carried by squirrels

with short memories

to bloom again.

Such chaos in a garden

must be controlled.

Beauty arises from balance,

the meld of new with old.

It unfurls harmony

in steadfast rules

on which the gardener can rely.

No harmony can happen

when stare decisis flees the garden,

when black robes become shadows

over truths we all know.

The fields ofAmerica will soon lie fallow

because the Supreme Court

has abandoned the land

where democracy grows.

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LETTER TO EARTH

Good morning, Earth.

You are still here

harboring fragile lives

and all they hold dear.

We have forgotten our friendship,

stayed silent for too many years.

Silent while your virgin forests

were raped and cleared.

Silent while your fields became poison

farmed in chemical warfare.

Silent when your fields’ waters ran off

to your rivers where your fish died.

Silent as viruses you had hidden from view

escaped your now weakened ties

that once bound them unable to harm us,

your dear friends, causing alarms

which trounced us awake to our loss.

Silent as oil and gas heated your breath

bringing fire, floods and storms, 

illness, war and death.

Silent no more as Putin threatens 

your nuclear destruction.

Silent no more as Earth,our best friend,

faces total obliteration 

after decades of our willful alienation

from you, Earth, our best friend.

The war we watch on our screens

began inside us sight unseen.

We were not looking within

when we should have been.

Silent no longer,  but is the song we now sing

our death song, after staying silent too long?

Dear Earth, can we make amends

and make you, once again

our best friend?

I pray you say “yes”.

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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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TRANSFORMATION: Happy Mother’s Day

Photo by Hernan Pauccara on Pexels.com

Wondering who you are becoming after the struggle to redefine your life during a global pandemic which changed the rules on how to live?  I do. My one goal since December 2019 was to survive, and help as many persons as possible to survive with me. Now, survival becomes a possibility, if we can eliminate the threat of global mutation and spread. If we do not, a newer, deadlier variant will swing back around. But, for now, I have hope for continued survival. I am ready to consider being reborn, transformed. Are you?

I stayed at home alone on Christmas. By January 2020 I was refusing to attend any public gathering and private parties.  I started ordering groceries. I had purchased a box of N95 masks and suggested others in my family do so as well. They all looked at me askance and asked, “why?” I explained there had been reports of an airborne virus spreading rapidly in China, one never before seen. One, killing a large percentage of those infected and causing severe symptoms likely to linger for unknown period of time in its survivors. They looked at me askance. They continued with life as usual. I continued to batten down the hatches, the crazy old woman of the family no one understood; but,  loved despite my eccentric behavior.

This reaction was not new to me. Whatever tidal wave of energy created me in my Mother’s womb it was not familiar to my parents. I asked so many questions as a toddler, trying my Mother’s patience. But, she always would attempt to answer. For example,  “Why does it get dark at night; then, light again?” Patiently, Mom explained, “It gets dark when the sun goes down; then it gets light when the sun comes up.”  “But, why? Where does the sun go?” Mom would then tell me the earth revolves around the sun. It does not go anywhere. “We are turning on the Earth,” she said.  “But, how does the Earth turn?”  Sighing Mom gathered two bouncy balls and showed me how the earth rotates changing the sun falling on the ball’s surface.  “But, why does the earth turn?”, I asked. “Because of gravity, I think” she answered. “What is gravity?” I asked. She then explained gravity was a force. Which comment led to tides, falling down after jumping etc. Every such conversation ended with my asking, “But, why?”; and my mother answering simply, “Because”. Over the years she called me her little “why because”. As I got older and questions continued unabated, she would comment, “ I don’t know whose womb you came from; but it was not mine.” WHAT! “But, why would you say that, Mommy?”

The first day of school I got there an hour earlier than anyone else after begging Dad to take me in on his way to open his restaurant for the breakfast crowd. He explained to Sr. Aloysius how eager I was was to learn all I could, as fast as I could. She gave me a first grade reader after allowing me to choose my seat. I chose the one right in front of her desk, of course. Day one was a dream. Day two ended as a nightmare. After class I stayed to return my reader, asking for the next book. Sister explained that this single book was our reader… for the year. For the year! “But, why?”, I asked. “I read it last night. I cannot read the same book all year.” Sister asked me to read page one. Then, she flipped to mid-section asking me to read; then to the last page. When she realized I had indeed read the entire book, she looked at me askance and asked, “what am I going to do with you?” Just like my own mother often ended a conversation. I was doomed.

One day, many months after my viral warnings, a niece asked me, “how did you know this would happen?” How did I know? How did anyone not know? Anyone paying attention would have known. Why are we so unwilling to pay attention. “Attention, everyone!” Sound familiar? We hear this everywhere we go. The most common teacher’s comment to students. Of course, we human beings must always be reminded to “pay attention.” Even with the threat of global annihilation of millions of our brethren we must be reminded to “PAY ATTENTION.” This has never been more important than it is in this moment, when the entire planet is about to be reborn. We are in a moment of such transformation that the attention of each of us is critical. Our entire planet Mother Earth faces rebirth, as well. I would like to be here to witness it.

In this transformative time of rebirth we can decide who we are, who we will become. We are still in our mother’s wombs yet. But the moment of rebirth is soon ahead. Ask “why?” always ask that question as you proceed to learn who you are to become. Decide whose womb you are in; one creating a person who honors all life and respects it enough to give it our attention, or one whose self-interest trumps the needs of our earth and all who live by earth’s bounty. Pay attention. I will not look askance at you. I will notice. I will be grateful. I will rejoice! I love you, Mom, for always honoring the “why”. Happy Mother’s Day…everyone.

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THE EDGE OF TIME

THE EDGE OF TIME
Louise Annarino
April 18,2020


No one knows what day it is
anymore.
Time drifts past exit ramps
and leads us
into the unknown,
while fearsome animals lurk
on city streets
left vacant too long.
Just long enough
to remind us of a long distant past
when the sun shone
clear and unencumbered
by exhaust fumes
and coal ash.
Exhausted by its weight
time pushes us down
where we can no longer damage
the very air 
so many now struggle to breathe.
Breathe! Breathe!
Breathe this clean air!
Unembraceable by another soul
embrace the air and water and soil
as if it were your mother.
Remember her for she has 
not forgotten you.
At the edge of time
we discover
our family is much larger 
than we remember.
When we pull back from the edge
will we forget?


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PRIVATIZING FIRST RESPONDERS: THE NEW CARPETBAGGERS, By Louise Annarino, October 30, 2012

Privatizing First Responders: the New Carpetbaggers, By Louise Annarino, October 30, 2012

April 22,1970. My friend Daisy Ouwelein saw the fruition of her organizing work on the campus of The Ohio State University as we celebrated the first Earth Day with millions of fellow Americans. Rachel Carson had published SILENT SPRING a year earlier, alerting us to the dangers of DDT and pesticides. In 1969 a massive oil spill despoiled the coast of Santa Barbara, California. Dead rivers carried industrial pollutants to the Great Lakes. Daisy had asked my help to promote and involve others in the day’s activities: Senatorial Candidate and former astronaut John Glenn spoke about his proposed anti-pollution legislation in Hitchcock Hall. Students learned about their “responsibility of the land” from the editor of Field and Stream magazine,Mike Frome, at the Ohio Union. Students walked the polluted Olentangy River which flowed through campus, many students needing medical treatment for rashes and infections after wading or being jokingly thrown in it. Organizing workshops were held on how to handle and fight environmental problems.

Earth Day’s founder, Senator Gaylord Nelson (D-WI), announced the idea for a “national teach-in on the environment” to the national media and persuaded Congressman Pete McCloskey, (R-CA)to serve as co-chair. His National Coordinator  Dennis Hayes, with a staff of 85, promoted events across the country. http://www.earthday.org/earth-day-history-movement. Students nationwide were already mobilized on college campuses in opposition to the Viet-Nam War. At OSU, students were in the midst of protests to end campus racism and establish a Black Studies Department, as well as end the war. The environmental movement became part of our generation’s understanding that the corporate world was using us as fodder for war and profit, with no concern for the destruction of human and environmental ecology.

Today, we see a continuing battle against these forces who refute the overwhelming evidence of climate change, genetically modify our foods, and wage war to seize and control natural and labor resources. They continue to pollute our soil/ air/ water, create disease in our children; and ask us to accept that “based on rates from 2007-2009, 41.24% of men and women born today will be diagnosed with cancer of all sites at some time during their lifetime. This number can also be expressed as 1 in 2 men and women will be diagnosed with cancer of all sites during their lifetime.” http://seer.cancer.gov/statfacts/html/all.html#incidence-mortality

As I watch events unfold over eastern 1/3 of The U.S. from Hurricane, now Tropical Storm, Sandy I wonder at those who would vote for a candidate who openly attacks environmental regulation and control, is unwilling to maintain and fund FEMA, who seizes and controls labor at home and abroad by outsourcing jobs,and who questions the very existence of climate change.  Presidential candidate Romney states that “it is immoral” for the government to pay for emergency responders, passing on the cost to his grand-children. Instead he argues that emergency response should be “privatized”. I for one do not want to sit in my attic as waters rise, wondering if a private company finds it profitable to rescue me, or if a private fire company thinks my home is worth saving from a fire. Think I exaggerate? It has already happened because of a  Tennessee family’s failure to pay a $75 fee.

Imagine if emergency services had been privatized in New York on 9-11; or today while first responders search and rescue in Atlantic City, NJ and across the Eastern Seaboard. Imagine if the unions of government workers had failed to oppose efforts to eliminate government workers. When there is trouble of this magnitude, when so many lives are threatened and our cities face unimaginable  infrastructure losses, “Who Ya Gonna Call?” Ghostbusters? No, city, county and state workers, the national guard and the coast guard. And who is going to coordinate this effort across geopolitical boundaries? And who is going to assist smaller towns and cities to handle the heavy costs incurred? The federal government, FEMA, and a president who keeps private profit out of the formula to maximize results at lowest possible cost, spread wide to absorb the sticker shock for an individual person or community. This is how it works best. This is what we have learned over time.

Those who ask us to privatize government functions are the new “carpetbaggers”. Like those carpetbaggers who descended upon a broken South when it was at its most vulnerable, to make personal profit as it struggled to restore some economic stability, today’s carpetbaggers have targeted the entire country,perhaps the entire world, as an “easy mark”. I have mentioned before the shell game http://worthingtonforobama2012.wordpress.com/2012/10/01/a-debate-or-a-shell-game-whom-does-romney-think-he-is-kiddingby-louise-annarino-october-1-2012/ being played out during the 2012 election. As you watch events unfold over the next hours and days, keep in mind that increasing environmental threats are real. Our first responders are even more important to our survival and entitled to not only our thanks, but to our financial support for the risks they take to protect us. They come when called out of civic duty; not to profit off our suffering.

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