Tag Archives: liars

MY FELLOW AMERICANS

MY FELLOW AMERICANS

I hold my tongue.

It takes strength I do not have.

Whimpers escape

On shattered breaths,

In silent screams.

The fight worries my soul,

Battle weary and choking,

On words held tight inside.

Once the scream begins

I doubt I could stop.

I wait for your speech.

I yearn for your promise

To stop the authoritarian

Who has taken over our house,

Emptied its vaults,

Stolen its wealth,

Sold its power

To the highest bidders.

So, I write. That I can do

While I wait for you.

To me, this nothing new.

Do you believe me now?

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DADDY DEAR

ANGELO ANNARINO,SR. WITH DAUGHTER LOUISE

Sitting at my young Dad’s knee

with thoughts swirling all about me

I had to know what the larger world

was trying to tell me, and help me see.

Daddy, daddy, daddy dear,

lend this little daughter your ear.

Why do they call Japanese people Japs?

Why do they call German people Krauts?

Why do they call Italian people Dagos?

Why do they call Arab people Towel Heads?

Why do they call women Cunts?

Why do they call Viet-Names people Gooks?

Why do they call African-American people “N”?

Why do they call Jewish people Kikes?

I do not understand, but it feels bad.

Sweet girl, my Daddy replied 

with a glance and shrug quite mortified.

In the military I learned the reason why.

It is enough to make a grown man cry.

But, I shall tell you the reason why.

It is hard to kill a fellow human being.

It is easier to kill someone you do not see

is as human and wonderful as you and me.

It makes it easier to harm, and wound, and kill.

It is easier to demean, and hate, and impose our will.

Undocumented refugees become “Illegals.”

Asylum seekers become “gang member criminals.”

Confucius said presciently, “The ordering of society

begins with the rightness of words.”

Republicans 2025 say, “The destruction of society

begins with the wrongness of words.”

FOX “news” is not news at all; 

yet, keeps too many in its thrall.

Karoline Leavitt tries to make us believe

good questions allow her answers to deceive.

Pam Bondi investigates her own untruths,

accusing her accusers of being uncouth.

Kristi Noem prances and dances before the gates

of concentration camps, seeking a date?

Such liars are pretty, dainty and sweet.

Americans, especially young men, fall at their feet.

How do truth tellers compete?

The jousters of old travelled from court to court,

making jokes of despots’ overreach without harm.

No dungeons for jousters in the good ole’ days.

Now, the jesters are banished from dinners to honor

newspersons dedicated to uncovering liars and lies;

and Amber Ruffin’s scheduled comedic performance

is suddenly, fearfully, cowardly cancelled.

Truth now lives in the dungeons, walking there

willingly, and blind. Such willfulness rankles.

When the words are removed and truth set aside,

it is easier to harm, wound and kill 

without losing one’s pride.

How proud will we be when we realize 

we killed our country to save our pride?

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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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DEAR PROTESTERS

Photo by Chris Alo on Pexels.com

We see you. We hear you. We stand beside you.

But now, in spirit, bowed down 

by age, and illness, and disability

we no longer meet you at the march in body.

The feet and legs no longer allow

standing on the corners, hugging the curbs,

marching along with you one-by-one.

The hands and arms no longer allow

lifting the sign, carrying messages aloft,

marching along with you one-by-one.

We can still lift a pen, still lift a brush.

We know it is not nearly enough

to calm the heart, comfort the soul

or change a stiff and unrelenting mind.

It is enough to calm, comfort and awaken

our weakened, weary, warrior selves.

We send our spirits to stand beside you

as you march along one-by-one.

We can remind you and all who watch

that more stand with you than they can see.

You are not alone

as you march to keep us free.

Photo by Life Matters on Pexels.com

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HIDDEN TRUTHS

Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

On the lintel stone

of my grade school

above the entrance

children passed through

every day,

after we left church

where we gathered to pray,

were the words to guide us through

childhood to adulthood as the

the good sisters would say:

“Ye shall know the truth

and the truth shall set you free.”

Those words I reviewed

each night before I slept,

an examination of conscience

of my personal truth;

what I had done that day,

who I had shown myself to be,

to myself and others

I had met along the way.

Uneasy truths rose in my mind

of tasks left undone

so I could play;

unmet needs of others

who got in my way;

truths I wished would go away

so I could pretend to be

someone so much better

than you, and better than me.

It is not others we fear.

We only fear who we are,

deep inside 

where our truth resides.

So, we hide away from ourselves

and fear discovery

that we are truly

not enough:

not good enough,

not strong enough,

not smart enough,

not wise enough,

not wealthy enough,

not educated enough,

not employed enough,

not courageous enough

to examine our conscience;

to own our thoughts and deeds,

to own our responsibility,

to own our need for love,

for passion,

for resilience,

for endurance,

for persistence.

Better to take time

to watch the game,

to drink at the bar,

to take the drug,

to avoid all blame

for what we refuse

to give away.

And the only way 

this fraud can continue

is to become a con

like so many others.

Great con men become

our saving heroes

and allow us to blame

all The Others

in their name.

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DEFAMATION

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Words can cut too close to the bone. 

Words’ outside meaning fires the skin.

Words’ inside meaning, hidden from view

fires up hateful spew, just as true.

Words can cut too close to the bone.

splitting back the skin of what we have known.

Words open gaps to see within

what we have long hidden beneath our thin skins.

Words can make the blood flow strong,

too hard and too fast for too long.

Words flow beneath the marrow

to the depths of what we think we know.

Words pulse with their own beat

dancing through bodies to the soles of our feet.

Words leave bloody footprints to follow

until all blood is lost and our souls become hollow.

This is how words kill.

From outside in then out again

opening wounds we did not know

had crusted over wounds from long ago.

Words tear scars opening wounds anew

while ripping apart the peace we had found

to cure and to heal hate with love.

Words tell us love can never be true.

Words tell us love is not real;

if real, then, love is too weak to abide.

Words help us bury love so deep it subsides

and only hate can hold court inside.

Words boost false pride

that I am better than you.

I die inside as I try to kill the few

who speak the truth you once knew.

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Thieves

The night is a thief

In broad daylight.

Forget the truth is a lie

When stated outright

In broad daylight.

Forget the con is a blight

When played out

In plain sight.

Moving the thimbles

Hiding the blight

Is thievery.

Then, change the rules

To make it all right.

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