Tag Archives: trump

STROBOSCOPIC POLITICAL STRATEGY

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Imagine if you will, 

everything you see in the MAGA

movement is really still.

Moments framed in space and time

and speeded up at will.

Whose will matters; yours or mine?

Wagons moving forward

we are told but their wheels appear 

to travel in reverse.

This wagon wheel illusion

is not just made for movies.

It is made to sow confusion.

The brain’s refresh rate is slower

than the information it is seeing.

It believes it is seeing motion

when the still image is moving more rapidly 

than the brain can refresh.

Unmerged refresh rates upend believability.

Under certain lighting conditions

and with other distractions

this effect is more striking

and not to the brain’s liking.

The distracting stroboscopic effect

is not truly an illusion, but a warning.

Our brains try to make sense of the lie

right before our eyes.

Sampling any phenomenon

with the wrong frequency

leads to misinterpretation.

The frame moves faster and faster

and slower brain rates sense a disaster.

Film. Repeat. Film in bright light

to move people to the Right.

Offer more distraction

and the lies seem so real

that we put them on media’s reels

so we think were are moving 

forward; but, our country 

is moving backward.

We must understand projection

for our own and our country’s protection.

We are seeing under the illusion of confusion.

A political strategy for those untrained

to give this phenomena a name.

Now you know it.

Now you own it.

Now do something about it.

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GAMBLING ON DEMOCRACY

A I generated image

Losers unite fast.

Winners make moments last.

Spectators lose all.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

DEMORALIZED

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Newscasters used to tell it like it is.

Now, they are opinionated forecasters.

They still tell us who.

They tell us who said why.

They no longer tell us 

what, when or how.

That would expose the lie.

No wonder we are demoralized

within both its meanings, 

no surprise.

First losses began long ago:

No more manners as a guide.

No more conscience to lower pride.

No respect for others.

No authority recognized.

Second losses are less discreet:

No longer safe in thoughts nor words.

No longer safe on our own streets.

No more hopeful for the best

when every known fact is put to the test.

No more law and order.

Due process now out the door.

Demoralized beyond repair?

The people rise, at last, at last?

Not in anger and outrage.

Peacefully assembling on marching feet.

Nuns, priests, ministers, imams and rabbis

offer a morality well-intentioned if incomplete.

But this is how our story goes.

We are not perfect, heaven knows.

Our moral code is soft and flexible.

Our democratic republic makes it workable.

It offers a way to respect ourselves and one another;

to recognize all as sister or brother.

Immorality is what we see, and vote for?

Approve of, and laugh about too obviously?

See where  we have led ourselves and our country,

fueled by wantoness and greed.

Demoralized we may be.

Still a people willing to fight to remain free.”

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“NOLITE TE BASTARDES CARBORUNDORUM.” – Handmaid’s Tale

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

SMALL SPACES SMALL MINDS

AI GENERATED image of Elon Musk, Tim Cook, Mark Zuckerberg

The smaller the space in the head

or in geography, or in any cartography,

The less room for challenges and new ideas.

Facts have only so much space.

They must cling fast to last.

Those who limit themselves

to live inside bubbles 

seldom recognize such troubles.

They are sure of everything

and wrong about nothing.

They have organized their small space

impeccably, intelligently, flawlessly.

So they must be as well.

They have neither time nor space to dwell

upon possible fallacy.

Only those outside the bubble can see

the absolute dangers of such insanity.

It is a new kind of mental illness

born in the stillness of active minds

revolving unchallenged by facts

that would make their theories unwind.

No such persons should be given power

over those who would see freedom flower

with a just and truthful effort, hour upon hour.

Those who live in openly-wide spaces,

who are woke to every possibility,

to every person and new discovery

are shut down and shut out

until autocracy has destroyed democracy.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

TECH SAVVY

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Silicon Valley controls the game

while its MAGA cheerleaders

lead us astray.

All eyes are on the cheering

and bullying ways

of Trump,Miller, Noem,

Hegseth, Witkoff ,Leavitt and Bruce

who entertain, cheer and introduce

crazy chaos and lies

to divert and divide our tired eyes

from the fields in play.

The Musk and Thiel

have taken over the field

giving JD Vance their power to wield.

CEO dictators are now all the R.A.G.E.

They are not bending knees 

with golden gifts on display;

simply, reminding the Trump 

who really controls the plays.

Never again will I say

I am not tech savvy.

I clearly see what the tech guys are about;

a complete dismantling and rout

of government, education and law

to stop future votes as they rule on their own.

They think we are stupid and feel so alone

that we would allow democracy to die.

No, we will not. That is the big lie

they tell themselves, and try to hide.

We are tech savvy. We are not leaving the field.

We will never our individual rights to bullies yield.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

THE RAINS CAME AND CAME AND CAME

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We keep thinking

it cannot become any worse

this placid earth 

awash in excess or in drought.

Hibiscus big as dinner pates

strung among drenched leaves,

hangs in drooping loops to the ground.

Sun makes its way warily

through clouds weighing the sky down,

new-born leaves water-logged and drowned.

The heavy weight of watered threats

is nearly too much to bear.

Too heavy to breathe, saturated, air

keeps me waiting inside,

Parched lips and  dry-aged skin

too thin to accept such weight again,

hangs loose, losing all pride;

jealous of the hibiscus

which still stands tall

strong enough to resist it all.

I anxiously await a break in the clouds,

days of hope and rest in the sun.

Even the earth is in tears these days.

Like a child I hold my sign and sing aloud

“Rain, rain, go away. Come again

another day.” Or not. Never again

should we women and men

so misbehave and reduce our gardens to tears.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

BEGGING FOR WORDS

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How is it

that when silence

seems treason

words resist?

When resistance

seems patriotic

words run away

to a hidden place

even poets

cannot find,

to my disgrace.

I do not fear

my words will 

cause me harm.

I fear I shall harm

my words.

I fear I will harm

my very soul.

I fear words so full

of anger, even hate

shall ruthlessly escape.

So, I shut the gate.

Today, I try to climb

above the world enflamed

by bullies with no shame

and view the world

I once knew.

A world sublime

but not perfect,

trying to be better,

trying to do better,

trying to achieve better

for every single soul.

This is the world of old.

Knowing the past

is good as gold.

Lingering in the past

will not help us be bold.

And being bold I am told

is what brings change,

topples bullies and their ilk,

eases harm and soothes

like a glass of warm milk,

after a harrowing hundred days.

I beg words to come out of hiding.

I beg for law and order abiding.

I beg for the wealthy to fund the fight.

I beg for police and soldiers to do what is right.

I beg for teachers to speak truth and empower.

I beg for journalists and media not to cower.

I beg for leaders to seize the moment.

I beg for clergy to calm the torment.

I beg for the silent to speak aloud.

I beg for neighbors to support each other.

I beg for words to shout together.

I beg for words.

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HEAVEN ON EARTH

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I have no knowledge of Heaven.

I have never been there,

except in dreams.

One thing I do know.

It must be a place where I

am surrounded by goodness,

fairness, compassion

and loving kindness

all of the time.

Heaven is the type of space

where hate has no place.

The sign in my yard

declares it to be so.

But, as we all know,

My selfish concerns sometimes show.

Creating a heaven on earth

may be an impossibility

because of my fragility

and lack of humility.

My human state has a dearth

of courageous purity.

Yet, still, I shall try to create

Heaven on Earth 

as a constant state.

The lack of goodness surrounds me

all too often these cruelty-laden days.

Kindness is the only way to delay

the triumph of evil over good.

I ask all those in my neighborhood

to join my effort, feeble though it be.

Any small kindness is stronger than cruelty.

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MY MOTHERS TAKE TO THE STREETS

Angela Abbruzzi (Abbruzzese) Annarino, age 16, at her high school graduation from Curtis High School, Staten Island, NY, 1940.

“Her money is just as green as mine,”

my mother told the clerk who passed over

the African-American woman waiting

at the counter before we arrived.

“She was here before us, after all.”

The clerk then moved beyond us 

to a white woman who had just arrived.

My mother went to her side 

and told her politely,

“You must wait your turn,” 

to the woman’s surprise.

All commerce stopped 

at that counter

on that day.

And my mother taught me 

what I think of today.

Always speak up at injustice.

Always seek fairness for all.

Always let your voice be heard.

Always ask for others to join your cause.

Never leave anyone standing aside.

Never be afraid to act with pride.

Today, hundreds of thousand of women

such as my mother are on our streets

in thousands of protests 

for justice

for fairness

for democracy

for our pride

as Americans

whose strength resides

not in military strength

but in the Bill of Rights

threatened openly by a fool

who like all fools

thinks he is king

This fool says

Anyone who protests

his $45 million birthday parade

will face “very heavy force.”

He never met my mother !

He will today.

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Filed under FAMILY STORIES, POETRY, POLITICS

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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