Tag Archives: love

HAIKU

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Unwanted love goes

beyond the path laid in hedge rows

into wilderness.

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VOTE

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We were assigned to write an essay on the theme

preserving democracy for the American Legion or VFW 

contest. I forget which group sponsored the contest, it seems.

I recall the solemn moment I realized the cost of loss of democracy

as I pondered the yet-to-be-written script of how it could be done.

Democracy could be lost and its greatest strength laid askew

across our inattentive road to future growth and glory,

an old and Founding-of-America story.

As if !

As if !

I scoffed at myself as I looked around and listened to 

the soldiers, sailors and airmen recently returned from WWII.

Those who fought against fascism and for democracy over there

would never permit freedom’s loss here. They would not !

And yet !

And yet !

I could clearly see all around me the powerful need

of individuals cowered by fear of others’ success.

“Keeping up with the Joneses” had become a litany,

a passion, a way of life, that had become de rigeur.

The challenge of battles now laid aside no longer sustained the pride.

Competing to win became a holy grail.

Leagues formed for bowlers and ballers;

their boys played Little League as parents hollered.

Trophies filled up cases with virtuous wins.

Still, this was not enough to satisfy anyone.

I heard the call and response to the world all around me,

“At least I am free, white and twenty-one.”

What ?

What ?

Free, I understood. That is what America stands for, right ?

But, white ? How is that a right and why does it matter ?

Where was that coming from? Where was that fight ?

On the movie screen with John Wayne and his troops

who pushed Native people aside and onto reservations

to avoid annihilation, hiding American’s need to claim

a false superiority, to be better than someone, anyone.

For if we are all equal, none of us can be better than another.

On the television screen we  saw burning crosses held aloft

by robed and hooded Southerners hiding their sense of inferiority.

In the North the inferiority hid secretly, under false pride

that claimed no true victory over the South’s perfidy

when it refused to stay within the nation, and hurt our surety

that our Union of States could survive as equal and free

despite the legacy of enslaving people who should be free.

Viet-Nam was aflame, bombed and napalmed in our name.

Those old enough to fight and die were too young

to buy a drink or vote. Most not yet twenty-one.

Ah, I see.

Ah, I see.

And so I did not write an essay; but, a play.

Two characters with Iron Curtain names to delay

the defensive need to deny the truth I would display.

A young nephew visited his uncle in jail,

conversing through the bars of his cell,

trying to understand how it came to be his uncle

was not, and never would be, free.

The 1st. Amendment had become distorted by media,

by political ads and an opposition party

who eschewed the growing power of those formerly subdued

to salve white supremacy, and simple jealousy.

The 2d. Amendment had become distorted by the NRA and KKK;

armed to the teeth they would say is the only way

to keep America white and free as it was meant to be.

“Be careful, young nephew,” his uncle warned.

There are those who would do you harm to silence you.

“Elections no longer count, when the count is misconstrued.”

Only in the final moment, of the final scene, we knew

freedom had been lost in the USA at some time hence.

Freedom is only as strong as me and you, equals

not better than one another, Americans all.

Vote now before America falls.

It took over 60 years to see the words I put on the page

that long ago day, become reality.

The wars fought long ago never ended.

Because human beings always need to know

they are enough, though never better than another, though flawed.

They are treasured and loved more than money and profit.

America need not fall; but, you must vote for those

who recognize who you are and what you could become.

For those who see the possibility of a future

where all men, women and children are the true treasure

of a nation where all are free to engage in democracy.

Vote now. Not for the past; but, for a future that can last.

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WOMEN

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Women are a sisterhood of might,

warriors with truth in sight

who love with lust and passion

and in ecstasy’s delight.

Women are the robins of the nests,

nurturers warming all within their light

who love with care and comfort

and in blossoming insight.

Women are the lions in dark night,

protectors with fierce might

who love with strength and power

and guarantee our rights.

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MISSING YOU

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Are the stars truly fixed in the sky?

When you are away the sun

stops in its tracks 

and earth’s orbit slows 

in heartbeats counted

by years, not seconds.

“Time stands still,” others say.

I say time goes on without me

while there is no us to see.

Without you, the universe stills

along the path of its trajectory.

I wait with bated breath and sigh

for your return while I

watch time march on.

I watch the sky for clues

when the universe would return

you to me and me to you.

Side by side we 

can make the sun move.

As we move

among the stars

in ecstasy.

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LOVE AND MIRACLES

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Either everything is a miracle

or nothing can be. 

The choice is ours.

It seems to me.

More is unseen than seen;

more unknown than known.

I believe in all that could be.

I await the next miracle.

Hope tells me this is true.

Faith gives me patience to wait

for miracles, my heart to renew.

Hold my hand and we

can wait together.

Oh, the wonders we shall see;

none more miraculous

than my love for you 

and yours for me.

Love show us miracles

to set our souls free.

Either everything is love

or nothing can be.

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Flowers not Bullets

Even the flowers wear armor.

They hide their sweetest nectar

deep inside the keep

of their castle,

Behind high walls

surrounded by moats

of thorns and ramparts

of bristles and thistles.

Tender they appear.

But tough they are.

Bending in fierce winds

they survive.

Pass the flowers not bullets.

Flowers are stronger.

They hurt no one.

Their scent perfumes a planet.

Their tender gift of beauty

stirs love and forgiveness.

Even flowers wear armor

to protect themselves.

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PASSIONATE WOMEN

“Enjoy it, while you can!”

never makes sense

to young ones whose only goal

is to get old enough to let life unfold

on their own.

Until, they are old enough to love.

Then, as the old ladies foretold,

“Enjoy it, while you can!”

I see those women still.

Still young.Still passion filled.

Still yearning for more, and amore.

They gathered for morning coffee

on the screened-in porch.

Pulling me within

by their passion, a torch

to light my way

to womanhood, day by day.

They were all related

by marriage and by blood,

or paesans from villages abroad.

They formed a sisterhood

from marriage to widowhood.

They aged, yet, their passions still raged

at husbands whose passions had been spent

on youthful challenges and endeavors

they embraced as leavers

to lift their families higher

than an immigrant could aspire.

Worn out before their time.

Passions worn too thin

to please their wives.

“Enjoy it, while you can!”

Ah! Now, I am finally

old enough to understand.

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ETERNITY

Angelo Annarino, Sr., Louise Abbruzzi, Angela Abbruzzi Annarino

Sunshine pours through the window,

flows over the kitchen sink 

and onto the table where I write

with fleeting glimpses of loved ones

passing through from day to night.

Gone forever.

Perhaps never

to be seen again.

Death is certain.

Eternity is not.

God could not have written

a better plot.

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HAIKU

Passion breaks apart

fired in ovens too hot.

Cool love lasts longer.

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WORDS

Are words without heart more marketing than art?

Is there any assurety my words sit on your lips

with the same joy they sit on mine?

I count on words to keep us all alive.

Or is it false security to believe in such vanity?

I sit quietly, in meek wonder at the power of words

to turn a cheek against a blow, 

or use a laugh to turn aside sorrow.

As I await inspiration words flow.

I wonder how this can be so.

What is life but waiting to know?

What is hope but a quickening of spirit?

What is faith but a breath in and breath out?

What is love but accepting whatever comes about?

Has life any purpose or is it merely aspiration?

Is life simply our imagination?

Without imagination can we survive?

Can any nation?

I wait. 

I breathe.

I accept.

I imagine.

I survive.

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