Tag Archives: freedom

FREE THE STRAWBERRIES

Louise’s strawberry garden fenced to keep out chipmunks, squirrels,racoons,deer,rabbits,skunks and a variety of birds; allowing in rain, helpful pollinators, and insect enemies of other harmful insects. Rest assured the gate will be turned right side up and our American garden will once again flourish and produce sweet fruit. Patience and effort, constant weeding out those harming the garden. It takes time and is well worth the effort.

The fence is placed all around

The strawberries are in the ground.

The gate is upside down.

The harvest will be delayed

Dismantling what we made

hour by our, day by day.

Chaos alway brings change.

Gardens too rigorously defended

make fences necessarily upended

to reach fruit not intended

for anyone but a few

who fence out themselves, too. 

What is the gardener to do?

A gate is meant to let us through

to the crop we worked for,

and many of us died for,

a free country we yearn for.

We thought we planted within our reach.

We thought we had enough freedom to teach.

We never thought we would beseech

tearing down everything we had built

to avoid admitting our guilt.

The gate MAGA made is all atilt.

The fence is too high, clearly.

We are just so frustrated and weary.

We may never eat another strawberry.

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AWAKENED

Photo by Louis on Pexels.com

This is no way to wake up.

Perhaps, it has become the only way.

We may have stayed asleep too long.

we may have missed the call

of our immigrant ancestors.
We may have been too deep in our own dreams.

We may not have heard the alarm

in the voices of those awake,

and made to suffer

while we dreamt on.

We may have found dreams

easier to focus beyond

the painful reality

that comes with the dawn.

Becoming awake means

it is not too late

to set aside hate

which weakens all bonds,

and love our country enough

to make it strong enough

to end the nightmares.

We can and we must 

awaken to a new dawn.

I am awake and I quake

in the light made by evil heat

that feels punishing and wrong. 

Today, I uneasily awake

determined to push on

past those who tell us

some of us

do not belong.

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MAMA

Angela Abbruzzi (Abbruzzese) Annarino, high school graduation at age 16

Let’s start a new movement in America.

It is not too late to start anew.

I know I can count on most of you.

We shall call it MAMA,

Make America Motherly Again.

We have had our fill of paternalism.

Let us try maternalism.

We can feed every child meals 

to feed their bodies, hearts and souls.

We can tenderly listen to ease the loneliness

of every grandparent, taking on their former role

as caretakers and dream-makers.

We can heal the sick and ease the way

of those whose minds are different so

all of us can live, love and laugh together.

We can build solar and wind energy makers

to ease the threat of out-of-control weather.

We can offer a living wage to those who labor

on behalf of every family, everywhere.

We can lead our children in private prayer,

within our own homes, and leave to others

whatever prayer, or none, they choose.

We can teach our children well, and if we do,

they will also learn to be good, for the common good

of every person on the planet, like me and like you.

Are you ready? Mothers’ Day will soon be here.

MAMA is on the march to a loving place

of freedom and peace, absent all fear.

We can wear hats, aprons and gloves in blue

A blue hat to block out the heat of hate on any face,

a blue apron to protect the garments of democracy we sow,

and blue gloves to protect hands worn thin by our work

to make our need-to-be renewed nation grow.

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IT IS ALL TRANSACTIONAL

Photo by Guilherme Rossi on Pexels.com

I lifted the blind, closed against the heavy weight of darkness.

But, the darkness lingers still in a world where the ability to see

has become transactional instead of factual.

It is all about the money, we now see.

Truth is no longer able to set us free.

The heavy weight of lies shackles and chains us

and keeps us in our place, where lack of opportunity

now extends beyond those once enslaved.

Too many blindly bow to the oligarchs who stole a nation’s wealth

and put the blame not on themselves, but on everyone else.

It is the people of color, women and homosexuals;

the immigrant and refugee, asylum seekers, librarians,

historians, veterans, unions and universities…

the truth-tellers the upper 1 percent would hide

to save their greedy selves, and tame their shame

behind a white Christian nationalism’s false pride.

Resentment has been nurtured over decades of time,

hardened into stone and fossilized, with guns loaded and primed.

Do not shoot the messengers who only try to lift the blind

and tell the truth you need to hear, about those who put you in this bind.

The sun shouts in voices of students and grandmothers,

unionists and progressives who only want to remind

the leaders still in place, but powerless as institutions crumble,

that we the people will never give up the freedoms  so hard-won.

We will not allow the tyranny of the greedy few to rule 

over  the nation and world we love, never over me and you.

Have we become what we fear most ? A nation of cowards and bullies?

Are we strong enough to lift the blinds and see the truth, finally?

Are we asleep at the post, we guardians of freedom’s hope?

Has greed brought us all to our knees before those who wield wealth

as a cudgel, a chain saw and a weed whacker 

to root out those who seek equal opportunity to build wealth, and be free?

Are we willing to worship the new gods of control, corruption and greed?

It is always about the money; transactional, not factual; selfish, not loving.

Has our beloved community and country been brought to its knees?

Is our ability to love now simply and blindly transactional?

Is no one left to hear our heartfelt, truthful pleas?

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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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GREY SKIES

ACRYLIC ON CANVASS by Louise Annarino, 2/20/2025

Grey days may appear

to cloud freedoms, far and near.

Don’t give in to fear.

Think as Spring draws near

of all that you hold most dear.

Peace and beauty shall appear.

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THE FIGHT WITHIN

Photo by Mateusz Dach on Pexels.com

The Cold War taught school kids to “duck-and-cover”

to save their lives, not from bullets fired by fellow Americans;

But from Russian bombs put in place

to put America in its place

in every available space

where bombs could reach our shores.

President Kennedy intervened to stop the ships

carrying missiles to fill silos built in Cuba.

School kids stopped to pray that day

before being sent home to “be with their families.”

I recall that day when annihilation of my nation

became too real to hide away.

Khruschev shouted “We will bury you” as he beat his shoe

where he sat at a desk in the UN.

He foretold our future there and then.

He said we will “destroy you from within.”

That is when the great pirates began to grow rich

in their race shore to shore running

arms, and drugs, and sex slaves galore;

depositing money passed hand-to-hand

into banks off-shore until it washed up and over 

the World Bank, its monolith waves too big to ignore.

The dish on American tables ran away with the spoon

feeding the greed of a growing American oligarchy.

It has taken my lifetime to measure

the true loss of America’s treasure

amassed in stealth by pirates dressed as lobbyists,

and PACS funded by dark money

who claim the false goal to live free in our fragile democracy, 

our greatest wealth.

The pirates stole into control of our country 

with entertainment instead of news.

Encouraging citizens to sleep and not be woke to the tragedy

of pirates placed within a government grown too thin

by tax cuts for the pirates like Trump, Vance, Bannon, Musk, Ramaswamy,

Hegseth, Gabbard, Alito and so many others.

Leaders now promise to deregulate all guards against their pirate theft.

And a sleeping nation nods “yes,” ignoring the pleas of true patriots, left bereft.

The pirates have  opened the gates and our Ship of State is un-moored.

They smile and smirk with strong-men and must not be ignored.

We cannot simply give up and give in

watching our country destroyed from within,

while Putin and America’s pirates count coins and grin.

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FREEDOM HAIKU

Photo by Polina Kovaleva on Pexels.com

A collective grief

has settled over the land.

Only time can heal.

We  may never know

nor fully understand why

our freedom must go.

We must be the heart

of miracles yet to be.

And bring freedom back.

It is ours to seize

from its darkest journey and

bring it back to light.

Courage is our friend.

Struggles are not the end, but

A new beginning.

And just like that, friends,

the weight of grief rises up.

Grief comes to an end.

I yearn to see you

happily and truly free,

breathing liberty.

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GRIFTERS UNITE

A nation of grifters.

That now seems right.

And the right has taken

grifting to a new level,

right in our sight.

Trump bibles, watches and hats

to grift cash for legal defense.

Elon Musk funds the cache

with his own which once

was our own, using what our

tax dollars created as his own.

Grifters come in all moneyed sizes.

But, the fine print on their offers

is too small to easily read,

hiding their grifting and greed.

Starlink for free to victims

of hurricanes Milton and Helene.

Except it is not free.

And if Musk and Trump succeed.

None of us will be free.

After one month, we will owe

Musk three-hundred forty-nine plus

dollars and service fees. 

Backlash forced him to extend

the grift until the end 

of the year 2024.

when victims will be left

holding the bag and more.

And so grifters appear to be

enlightened and generous and we

their sycophantic beneficiaries,

until it is too late

to shut the fascist gate

being constructed right under our nose.

Grifting away democracy is not new.

It has happened to others before, 

but now, for us, it is way too close.

The grifters have united 

and now so must we.

Vote!

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DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION

Photo by Thiago Silva on Pexels.com

Best to keep parched lips closed in the midst of drought.

When the rain comes, as it surely must, lips open wide,

with head tilted back, in a tumultuous shout.

Filling up with rain, one wet swallow can seem enough.

Memory quickly returns of a mouth full of dry dust,

reminding one a single swallow is not enough.

After thirsting so long words have grown tough

to swallow, feel bitter, feel wounded, feel flushed

where they would be drowned 

if only rain would fall down.

Still, the short rain is enough to stir us to our feet,

on the forward march to greener pastures,

cool beneath our bare feet,

taking their fill of all the rains 

that have gone before to make this place

one where one may stay to laugh and play.

We will not go back.

Tears of joy rain down now.

We swallow them whole, 

filled with power so bold

we believe we control

the weather.

We don’t, we know.

But, we can vote.

And our vote grows in volume

as word drops form streams

and create new rivers of dreams

that flow within oceans so strong

their freedom carries us along

to new and better shores 

where right overcomes wrongs.

Words fall like rain, again and again.

Dance in the rain and play

on the way to election day.

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