Tag Archives: resistance

MAMA

Angela Abbruzzi (Abbruzzese) Annarino, high school graduation at age 16

Let’s start a new movement in America.

It is not too late to start anew.

I know I can count on most of you.

We shall call it MAMA,

Make America Motherly Again.

We have had our fill of paternalism.

Let us try maternalism.

We can feed every child meals 

to feed their bodies, hearts and souls.

We can tenderly listen to ease the loneliness

of every grandparent, taking on their former role

as caretakers and dream-makers.

We can heal the sick and ease the way

of those whose minds are different so

all of us can live, love and laugh together.

We can build solar and wind energy makers

to ease the threat of out-of-control weather.

We can offer a living wage to those who labor

on behalf of every family, everywhere.

We can lead our children in private prayer,

within our own homes, and leave to others

whatever prayer, or none, they choose.

We can teach our children well, and if we do,

they will also learn to be good, for the common good

of every person on the planet, like me and like you.

Are you ready? Mothers’ Day will soon be here.

MAMA is on the march to a loving place

of freedom and peace, absent all fear.

We can wear hats, aprons and gloves in blue

A blue hat to block out the heat of hate on any face,

a blue apron to protect the garments of democracy we sow,

and blue gloves to protect hands worn thin by our work

to make our need-to-be renewed nation grow.

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LIGHT UP

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

I am made of stardust

lit by sunlight.

Like lilies of the field

I dig deep into earth

with my toes.

Like birds of the air

I soar on currents stirred

when heat meets cold.

I seek. I soar. I laugh out loud.

I raise my face to the sun.

I dance in moonlight.

My spirit takes flight.

I grow strong.

My beauty abounds.

As earth, my earth

turns round and round.

Time has no meaning

I have found

except to tether my hopes

that change comes around

when most desired,

bright with sounds

of laughter, and courage

unleashed and unbound.

Rejoice in the day,

the month and the year

but stay in the moment.

Have no fear.

Photo by William Melvin, April 2025

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COLUMBUS,OHIO 4-5-2025

Thousands gathered in pouring rain

that fizzled to drizzle

before again filling drains

in a deluge of tears shed from the sky

for all the cruel MAGA plans in 2025.

Cars in parade drove round and round

filled with those too weak or sick to stand

letting the blare of horns shift feet off the ground

as protesters lifted signs and waved

in true solidarity, camaraderie and pride.

Every viewpoint, every age, every gender

straight or pride, every religion; all differences aside.

Small towns, big cities and rural hamlets,

countries all around the globe 

joined together, lifted signs with epithets

and reminders the people run this country

not oligarchs, nor despots, nor traitors, nor kings.

Enough is enough and this is too much

as it silences the Liberty Bell’s ring.

And, best of all, this is just the beginning.

Soon, MAGA will fall.

Still, local and national news ignores

the true message sent today

to save our beloved USA.

Media moguls saw no need

to shoot themselves in the knee

and tell the story of our glory

as we gathered to redress grievances

and demand our government comply

with federal laws and court orders

lest we watch our nation die. 

We are here, and here we shall remain.

We are our own best hope. We refuse to lie.

Fascists now rule over the home of the brave,

supported by Republican cowards

whose complicity credulity strains.

And the news media offers no discourse

to educate and explain

why millions of Americans stood so  resolute,

so long, in such  drowning rain.

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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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DARK TIMES

Photo by Raphael Brasileiro on Pexels.com

In the dark times

neither day nor night

bring about right.

We are forced

into our interior

and rely upon insight

and the subtle feel

of what our senses say is real.

We come to a stop,

to listen and recall

where we stand,

leaning against the wall

of remembered balance.

Perhaps we lean a bit,

Perhaps we sway

before trying to find our way

back into the light.

Standing still is no solution.

Going ahead despite our dread

of what can happen in the dark

is the only thing to be done.

It is the only way to bring back

brighter and happier days,

and nights when we can sleep

knowing we are safe.

Take my hand.

Together, we shall find our way.

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WAGING WAR

Making public servants an enemy

to be destroyed and removed

from the field of battle against 

ignorance,

poverty,

disease,

and injustice

is 

making

war 

against the Republic

itself.

This is not a restructuring.

This is not a reduction of cost.

This is not quality control.

This 

is

making 

war

against the republic 

itself.

We are not facing a possible 

Civil War.

We are in one.

We are not on the precipice of losing

the Rule of Law

and thus, our government

of the people

by the people 

and for the people.

We, the people

are being usurped

by technocrats and billionaires

protecting their plantations of wealth

built on greed and false grace

and manacled religions

and on the backs 

of what was once

a middle class

unionized and organized

and ready to defend

the American Dream.

Now, we hear their screams

on the battlefield.

And those waging war

in a place where 

true leaders once stood

make us beg for terms

of surrender

already written by Putin

and other war lords

against democracies.

We are the first to fall for lies

in submissive position

to the beast

within us all.

We are

making war

against our republic,

against

ourselves.

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ART THERAPY& Haiku

Letting Go of the Old, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, March 2025
Trump Speaks at DOJ, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, March 2025

When things are too hard

to take, take to creation

within and without.

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COLORFUL GRACE

Acrylic on canvass by Louise Annarino, 2-22-2025

Nature is a generous patron, and quite witty

She paints our world and makes it pretty

with a variety of colors, none like another.

Yet, each color is sister and brother

on the wide spectrum of light

which turns us away from night.

Not content to withhold her grace

She asks each of us to simply embrace

All the colors of our world,

all the joy her works unfurl.

She asks us to find our own space

among the wonders she has put in place.

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GREY SKIES

ACRYLIC ON CANVASS by Louise Annarino, 2/20/2025

Grey days may appear

to cloud freedoms, far and near.

Don’t give in to fear.

Think as Spring draws near

of all that you hold most dear.

Peace and beauty shall appear.

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THE BOOT

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Pexels.com

Bodies tell stories.

The boot is on the right foot.

It lifts up the right side.

It tilts the body left.

The left leg shortened,

for a short while;

long enough for the right 

heel to heal the heil.

The right heel steals balance.

The right heal steals my right

to take walks, plant seeds,

to talk with ease, laugh aloud.

The right heel pains me,

isolates me,

leaves me motionless.

Soon, the boot will be off.

Therapy will begin to complete

the healing needed to stop

the pain in the heel, and heal the heil.

The extra weight will be lifted.

Both feet will balance the gait

of a body ready to move forward,

beyond the lies, beyond the hate.

Time to heal, if patience allows.

I ask so little it seems;

and yet, too much for now.

Now, when words destroy bonds

formed from shared adversity,

in fear of diversity and loss of power.

I stumble through the day, booted

by the weight of the jack boot

on a leg that has born too much weight

of too much fear, too heavy a hate.

And still, despite the added weight

and uneven gait, I march on,

in my own, stilted way,

on this President’s,

not King’s,

Day.

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