Tag Archives: hunger

HUNGER GAMES

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I see patterns, not the dead.

Patterns of the dead and dying, instead.

Death by a thousand cuts,

every strength lessened  in a labor force,

in flight controllers, educators, hospitals,

F.B.I and military personnel, as well.

Saving money is not the purpose;

but, stealing money to fill the purses

of family and those who hold the cards,

greedy sots who play so hard

they have forgotten how to work

if they ever knew how.

No sweat on their flinty-eyed brow.

The hunger games have now begun.

Watching suffering is part of their fun.

Crying children with aching bellies,

babies once thriving, who will soon be dying.

The weakened working poor and people of color

are always such a weight and bother

to those who seek fortune and fame.

To win, such weak pretenders must play such games.

The cries and shouts are soon drowned out

by Epstein’s files which stretch for miles

across every ocean, their pattern is in motion.

Overpower those you fear and take their power.

Do this day-by-day, hour-by-hour

until they die or wish they could.

Death by a thousand cuts.

Pretend you are doing it for their own good.

Your power is but a sick, slick dream;

a nightmare for hungry children who scream.

Banks profit off your every scheme and stay silent

while you threaten and demean those who show

who you really are, and strive to make clear

this is not who most of us are, or wish to be.

But, too many agree. Too many refuse to see

the patterns they have watched on TV screens

for so many generations that it is destroying a nation.

I see patterns, not the dead.

So busy feeding the hungry we have little time to fight

those who create patterns of dominance and fright

robbing us of the wealth which once fueled our success.

Now, our very democratic existence is under duress.

This is part pf the plan of the Heritage Foundation,

who has shaken the core the the Republican Party so hard

it no longer exists as a proud opposition.

It has become the source of a free people’s annihilation.

I see patterns. I see the plan has been set in motion.

Now, I ask, countryman and women to show their devotion

to a nation entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness

where all are created free as a basic right of creation.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

PAIN

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Pain changes all.

It puckers lips which can no longer speak.

It furrows brows and narrows the view.

It buckles the knees, threatens our fall.

There is so much pain everywhere,

enough to spare, too much to bear.

Pain always wants out,

it erupts in a shout,

“Make it stop!”

“Stop!”

“Just stop!”

Does anyone hear?

Too many continue

to pour salt in the wound.

Too few seem to care.

Too many press fingers on spots

that pulse too hot

until pain explodes and we drop

to our knees as we plead,

“Make it stop!”

“Stop!”

“Just stop!”

Human angels run by

and try not to cry

as they sound the alarm

and beg to succeed

in stopping the harm.

U.N. food trucks are bombed.

Opposition leaders are killed.

Weather tells stories

to gain our attention.

The earth pleads as do we,

“Make it stop!”

“Stop!”

“Just stop!”

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Filed under POETRY

HOMELESS WOMEN

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untitled women 

work the fields

ply the streets

rock the cradles

cry and weep

unnamed tears

forgotten smiles

un-styled hair

weary feet

arms akimbo

grace denied

homeless

but not heartless,

mores the pity,

where none resides

beside the curb

where hope dies

as titled women

simply pass by

and by

and by

and by

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DESSERT LINES TAX DEMOCRACY

There were too many choices on the dessert tray.

“Each one take one” deserted us in the fray

to take more than our neighbor day after day.

Only those who had already eaten their full

were allowed into the dessert line’s pull.

They soon fearfully learned to guard their place,

that their rights to the line were not earned, but disgrace 

to those deprived of sweet-takings

engaged in new nation-making;

not filled with days of Turkish delights,

but with hungry days turned into endless nights.

Where dreams dashed middle-class hope, 

which died on buffet lines, the poor man’s trope.

The anger is real, if misdirected

believing The Big Lie that goes un-dissected

lest truth arise before their eyes

explaining they face their country’s demise.

We are the source of our own destruction

electing leaders who lie without compunction

and promise to allow us into the buffet line

where dessert is denied time after time.

Democracy dies with the death of the middle-class.

Without “each-one take one” our democracy cannot last.

The buffet lines of life are heavily taxed

while the dessert line where few stand tight go un-taxed.

They are bloated and full of themselves, supremacists all,

while the rest of us watch democracy fall

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Filed under POETRY

Eating Trees,by Louise Annarino,1-22-2014

Trees tightly spun against the sky

encased in ice,

reflected light glows

on the leaves of pin oaks

like tangerine skins

glistening and scrumptious

making my mouth water

with hunger

for trees.

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Filed under POETRY

HUNGER, Louise Annarino

HUNGER

Louise Annarino

4-23-2013

 

I hunger 

for bleu cheese and gazpacho

in a chilled glass

on a hot day

after mowing the lawn,

cutting tart scents

from dry sod,

inviting rain

to keep it green, and alive

like my love for you.

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