Tag Archives: Putin

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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THREE MONKEYS

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It seems all you do is wait.

I know what for.

As do you.

But is your imagination

bright enough to see,

loud enough to hear,

courageous enough to speak?

Do you believe you can cope?

Have you lost all hope?

Does fear hold you captive,

dim your sight,

close your ears,

silence your tongue?

Do you most hide 

from lost pride,

knowing what you most fear

is already here?

Open your eyes.

un-stop your ears.

Loosen your tongue.

Resistance, too, 

has already begun.

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PUTINIZATION NATION

AI generated image

We now live in 

Putin’s America.

Thanks to all of you

who voted

for Trump/Vance

and every republican

in every state house

in every political position.

I could not feel more derision

for you and what you do

every day you stay

silent,

unapologetic,

absolutely pathetic.

A country I thought you loved

more than you hated

women and people of color,

the disabled, war veterans,

children and the elderly,

homosexual and transgendered.

I underestimated your greed.

I underestimated your need

to make yourself

feel better than someone,

than anyone,

else.

I lost your pulse.

My bad!

And, I know you blame me,

and every liberal,

compassionate,

forward thinking

person you see.

So, you bend the knee

and deny democracy

its rightful place

in American History.

Our loss is Putin’s gain.

Your patriotism

has always been feigned.

Mine, yet remains.

My country may not.

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D-DAY TODAY

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I learned of D-Day from newsreels

 shown in between double-features

at the Saturday morning movies

which cost a quarter

at our local theatre. 

I learned of D-Day listening

at the feet of my father

hidden under the kitchen table

where Daddy spoke with buddies

who went to war with him

after years of childhood friendship.

I learned of D-Day in school

where we studied WW II,

and ignored the study of Viet-Nam,

while fellow students were drafted

to go fight a different war.

Korea was seldom mentioned 

anywhere but among the men

like my cousin who survived the fight.

I learned of D-Day from movies

like OVERLORD, and later,

SAVING PRIVATE RYAN.

But, those images had already been ingrained

on the bank of memories lodged in my brain.

Images of certain death

where the words “last ditch effort”

were not mere metaphor, but a lesson to

never make war, nor allow it to cross our shore.

Today is D-Day, not in reverent remembrance,

but as a last-ditch call for the war

that we face against crony capitalism,

corruption, Putin international mobsters

posing as politicians; heads of national security,

homeland security, and even presidents.

Greed brought war within our shores.

This is our D-Day hidden inside fake news,

and Project 2025, and a budget reconciliation

package too large to read or report upon,

Too quickly pushed through by enemies

of state we call Republicans,

but who are nazis manning bunkers

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called The Great Wall like the one 

our fascists try to build  along our southern border.

To keep brown people out? Or keep us in?

Is America becoming a giant camp

concentrating those exercising free speech,

free movement and all dissent beneath the thumb

of authoritarian diatribe and power, making us numb

and willing to cooperate with endless hate?

I honor those who once fought to save the world

and keep it free from hate and bigotry,

and create a fair economy which served us all.

I see the last ditch in my mind with no need to recall.

It lives on every street, in every neighborhood,

in every school board meeting, and City Hall;

in governor’s mansions and courts of law.

It is still alive these many years

and brings anger along with tears

burning the back of my throat

as I mourn those who breached the fascist wall

and those whose bodies I imagine afloat

off Omaha and Utah Beaches, and now, in our cities.

And I remember, as if it is today. It is. Such a pity.

Community members clash with ICE, other federal officers, Minneapolis police, and other state officers as officials raid Las Cuatro Milpas in Minneapolis, Minnesota Tuesday, June 3, 2025. (Photo by Nicole Neri/Minnesota Reformer)

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MARTA ASKS “NEVER AGAIN ?”

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Marta married an American soldier

in the front lines of her liberation

from Nazis who invaded her city

where her father’s butcher shop

did business selling cuts of meat

from the cattle raised on their farm

outside the city, somewhat removed

from the war which rounded up neighbors,

Jews, whose shops also served Dutch

neighbors who labored by their sides.

As German soldiers arrived under Nazi flags

These Dutch, Jew and non-Jew, stayed silent

coming out from their shops to watch them march by.

Soon, rumors were heard that non-Jewish shopkeepers

were considering turning Jews in by-and-by

to save and serve their own interests.

Marta’s father knew better. He knew the lie

they told themselves that such hate

could pass them all by, by cooperating.

In the morning the Jewish shops were shuttered.

The Jews had been warned and fled

to no one knew where. On a wing and a prayer

they followed twelve year old Marta

to the family farm where they hid in the barn,

protected and fed, and where they could safely hide.

The Nazis came and took their cattle, their chickens,

but did not find the Jews who were kept hidden,

kept alive. Marta’s family stayed silent, too.

Not to save themselves, nor appease their enemy;

but to save their Jewish neighbors and their own pride.

Years fell away with wizened flesh that kept them alive.

When the food was gone into Nazi bellies

she ate grass soup, and chewed leather hide

from her shoes, made into stews. It kept them alive.

By the time American soldiers took over her town

Marta was an emaciated bag of skin and bone.

She married the soldier who fed her his rations

and gave her rebirth of heart. She had kept her soul.

She had saved the Jews and her love of humanity.

But her sanity sat heavily on thin shoulders 

no longer able to stem tears nor fears.

She heard those marching feet and shouts  of “Heil !”

In forever dreams she relived the living hell

she and her Jewish neighbors survived.

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LAST BREATH

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What is the period of mourning

when a nation dies before our eyes?

Not in sudden cardiac arrest,

not like a slow cancer.

nor a natural aging

of its body politic.

But, like a chronic illness

which has worsened over time,

sometimes in remission

allowing hope to remain alive.

But, when death’s grip pries

the life from every cell

which protected a nation from demise

and its heartbeats accelerate

at a far too barbaric rate,

what then? How can hope survive

when our national freedom dies?

The violence, the bombs, the rubbled ruin 

comes after the next election, I fear. 

The election may save us from loss

of freedom, but at a cost.

Like Ukraine, we can take a nation back

by electing constitutional, loyal leaders

and set our enemies off to the side.

Like Ukraine, our enemies will regroup

and ferociously and physically attack

what they could not seize by stealth.

They will never let go of power and wealth

which we allowed them to take during this

DOGE-dealing, Heritage Foundation steal.

Courts may save us for a time.

But, be prepared.Everything is on the line.

And the mourning is ever-ceasing

for those who see the fate

of a nation which for too-long

embraced its power and its wealth, 

and allowed itself to hate.

Slavery was our original sin and set the stage

for all the other hate and division

that has led to this time of fear and outrage.

How long is the mourning period for such a loss?

It has been my entire life; yet, my hope has endured.

But, my body senses death at my nation’s door.

And, I fear I simply cannot take it anymore.

What is the end to this period of mourning?

Every cell in the body politic is warning

that this nation, our beloved nation

may be close to its last breath.

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SELF SOOTHE

I paint to find a soothing space where words subside and bliss abides.
This is my most recent project. I hope it soothes your soul and cheers your heart during these stressful days.

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POST-ELECTION 2024

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My sorrow does not come

from the loss of an election.

Sorrow bubbles up and pulls down

faith and hope and trust in

legal and constitutional protection

for the progressive direction

we moved, pushing hate aside,

within the blue bubble 

where I reside, 

within a gerrymandered state

full of Christo-fascist pride.

Court protection is now

too often set aside.

Criminal leaders with immunity

can now act with impunity

to destroy an entire nation,

indeed a  free world.

Greed acts with such speed

to push grace and care aside.

And truth is destroyed

by incessantly repeated lies.

My sorrow does not come

from watching my nation die.

It comes from watching

fellow citizens kill my beloved nation

Right before my eyes.

And the worst part of it all is,

that it is not a surprise.

I have watched a predator party

stalk us creatures of democracy

my whole life.

The day I most feared 

is no longer just a nightmare.

It is the reality of imminent strife.

I cannot simply smile and reach out,

asked to shake hands with voters

with blood on their hands,

when I want to shout “traitors!”

I think of all who died to protect

and defend my country, my best friend,

I cannot stand to watch cruelty up-end

a nation now at-sea, afloat on lies

that all is at is has always been

after an election.

The desperation of a nation

tears at the soul within.

The soul of each and every American,

until America is dead and buried,

so that rich oligarchs can feed 

their need for power and control.

Citizens United has long been on a roll

to knock down all opposition,

and watch weak Americans fold

their cards and lose their last hand.

Such sorrow, I fully understand.

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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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PUTIN REPUBLICANS

If Republicans take control of the House.

McCarthy promises Putin wins.

Not just in Ukraine,

to whom McCarthy says he will refuse aid

which we now give to fight off blood and bone Russians

using real Iranian drones and North Korean missiles.

Worse or not, McCarthy also refuses

to fight Russians within,

hidden behind the faces of Republicans

who spout Russian lies

while taking Russian cash

to increase adds to propagandize

and fill their pockets.

“Oh! What tangled web we weave

when first we practice to deceive.”

A refrain that never ends;

not with Trump, nor Guiliani, nor Rubio,

nor Lindsey, nor Dewine, nor La Rose, nor Yost,

nor so many others, too numerous to list

who would sell their souls 

for a dollar or a ruble…

or simply….re-election.

Such a defection to the other side

is not partisan politics.

That died long ago.

The defection is to Russia

and autocrats who control

all the wealth and power

they can lay hands on,

as if blessed by the hands of Christian nationalists

such as Flynn, and preachers like him,

who protests women’s control in privacy

which expands to every human right

which threatens us with autocrats’ control.

Go vote, for Putin. Vote Republican!

And soon, you will need to hide

not just your money and your pride

but your women and your children;

you know, those you think you own.

You don’t and never have.

They are not yours to give away.

But, they are yours to protect.

But, it seems I forget

you stopped that long ago.

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