I waited awhile for your smile,
perhaps too long.
It never came until too late.
I shall never know
why you made me wait
until I said, “I’ll
be going now.”
Your face lit up in joyful prose
and told me all I needed to know.
Tag Archives: relationships
DADDY DEAR
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?
THE BATTLE IS ON
Do not drag me through the mud with you.
No matter what you say,
the fight will be down and dirty.
I know.
I have had to fight this way.
I will be beside you to comfort you.
I will not get in your way.
I am yours and you are mine.
Our fights are all our own.
We cannot our hands entwine
or the battle will be blown.
I will walk across the muddy field
and stay ready to lift you up.
But only you can wield the sword
so you may soon lift victory’s cup.
I will wash the mud from your face.
I will hose you down when needs must.
I shall trod the muddy field apace.
I will not make a fuss.
I have every faith you will succeed.
For, I believe in us.
Filed under POETRY
I WOULD LOVE YOU
I would love you if I could
not with tender looks,
nor delicate feelings
encased in soft touches.
I would love you with harsh words,
and bold shoves
until you fell before your foolish pride
and caught my heart in your hard fist.
I would hold that fist closed about my heart,
feel it pulled from my tight chest
in heavy pants of longing,
making it difficult to breathe.
I would love you.I would love you.
I would If I could.
I would if you allowed.
Filed under POETRY
SOMETHING LIKE RAIN,by Louise Annarino,1-4-2013
SOMETHING LIKE RAIN
Louise Annarino
November 26,2012
It is something like rain.
Steady drip,drip,drip
a long soak,
or intermittent showers
marking the hours.
An occasional storm
building on the horizon,
sudden cloudbursts,
sodden drowning,
high winds
following brief alerts,
even hurricanes
every decade.
But,
how would love grow
without it?
Filed under POETRY
