Tag Archives: Homan

MY MOTHERS TAKE TO THE STREETS

Angela Abbruzzi (Abbruzzese) Annarino, age 16, at her high school graduation from Curtis High School, Staten Island, NY, 1940.

“Her money is just as green as mine,”

my mother told the clerk who passed over

the African-American woman waiting

at the counter before we arrived.

“She was here before us, after all.”

The clerk then moved beyond us 

to a white woman who had just arrived.

My mother went to her side 

and told her politely,

“You must wait your turn,” 

to the woman’s surprise.

All commerce stopped 

at that counter

on that day.

And my mother taught me 

what I think of today.

Always speak up at injustice.

Always seek fairness for all.

Always let your voice be heard.

Always ask for others to join your cause.

Never leave anyone standing aside.

Never be afraid to act with pride.

Today, hundreds of thousand of women

such as my mother are on our streets

in thousands of protests 

for justice

for fairness

for democracy

for our pride

as Americans

whose strength resides

not in military strength

but in the Bill of Rights

threatened openly by a fool

who like all fools

thinks he is king

This fool says

Anyone who protests

his $45 million birthday parade

will face “very heavy force.”

He never met my mother !

He will today.

Leave a comment

Filed under FAMILY STORIES, POETRY, POLITICS

MAGA LESSON 1

AI created image “Trump”

The most difficult words to say

without reason nor rhyme

are “The failure is all mine.”

Even when failure brings such relief,

as the end succeeds the means,

it destroys our firm belief

in our omnipotence and grief,

and makes victims of us all

But victimhood is no more true

than the lie we tell ourselves

that we are better than you.

An un-truth we gleefully claim

to avoid our deepest shame

that we are not enough to win the game.

Shame is at the heart of every false start.

To admit we are in need leads 

to greed and every evil deed,

while self-care falls aside

to save our wounded pride.

Shameful hurts grow in number day by day.

We build walls to keep them, and shame away.

Walls become our gaol as we hide ourselves inside.

Then, we blame those left behind and locked outside.

We are alone in our togetherness; together in our aloneness.

And the rest of the world marches on by.

Shame never takes a break, nor rests

while we destroy what and who we know are best.

That is the only way to win, and then we whine

with shrugs and say, “The failure is not mine.”

One cannot shame a bully more 

than a bully shames himself.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY, POLITICS