Tag Archives: resistance

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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BREATHLESS WORDS

Photo by Trace Constant on Pexels.com

I am out of breath and words.

The hill ahead we must climb

seems much too high

and tightens the core

in bands of steel

that limit flexible movement.

How can we climb under such duress?

Any future hope must be a mere guess

that we can find a way

through the dark and fretful days ahead.

Fatalism blocks the intake of air.

Fear locks an exhale all too aware

of obstacles placed along the path.

Few sherpas remain to assist,

compromised by willingness to desist

the smug faces of so many now in charge.

Human compassion is suppressed.

Freedom is kept at-large.

The goal remains the same.

The path is now littered in shame.

I am out of breath and words.

Photo by PNW Production on Pexels.com

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HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025

Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

Worn and weary I 

run away from words hidden 

in the dark of night.

Photo by Nicole Avagliano on Pexels.com

Pained and poured out I

slowly ascend the mountain

reaching toward the light.

Photo by dilbeste on Pexels.com

Strained and so sore I

peruse the new horizon

coming into sight.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Battered but brave I

reach into my open heart.

Love overcomes fright.

Photo by fauxels on Pexels.com

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FREEDOM HAIKU

Photo by Polina Kovaleva on Pexels.com

A collective grief

has settled over the land.

Only time can heal.

We  may never know

nor fully understand why

our freedom must go.

We must be the heart

of miracles yet to be.

And bring freedom back.

It is ours to seize

from its darkest journey and

bring it back to light.

Courage is our friend.

Struggles are not the end, but

A new beginning.

And just like that, friends,

the weight of grief rises up.

Grief comes to an end.

I yearn to see you

happily and truly free,

breathing liberty.

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BY THE WAYSIDE

Photo by Regina Jane on Pexels.com

Yesterday I fell

by the wayside

where hopelessness dwells.

The journey upward felt

like a forced retreat,

no longer a climb

on confident feet

to reach the summit

where love presides,

where ego lives above false pride.

Instead, the slope had become slippery

and I,

and I, 

and I

fell to my knees

my hopes subsided.

There is no time for this

I have decided.

I may slip again

and all my hopes fail 

but, I will stay on freedom’s trail.

The climb ahead 

becomes more rugged.

And I become stronger

the longer 

I climb.

And I,

And I,

and I

will always go up

where skies are blue,

to reach others

willing to climb

up 

from the other side.

This I promise myself

and I promise you.

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SPEAKING CREATION

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What is now does not have to be.

Speaking up is an act of creation

in this a darkening and frightening nation.

Speaking out is creativity as life may be.

In this way we are always free

to see the world much differently

than when we are told to bend our knee.

It need never be what others see.

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

We can create our own reality.

The act of creation is the greatest act of love,

overcoming destruction from above.

Speaking out lifts not only voices;

but lifts unlimited possibilities and choices.

Those who try to close the gates

and scare us with threats of hate

to block us in and push us down

cannot handle creativity’s frown

upended when we discover

that we can create a world of lovers.

Speak up. Speak out. Speak so loud

creators join and form a crowd

that laughs in the face of hate and greed

and creates a new and loving creed.

Speaking out is an act of creation.

Speaking out will form a new nation

conceived in liberty

and dedicated to the proposition

that no one can force us to take their position.

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