Tag Archives: UKRAINE

NIGHT SWEATS

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UKRAINIAN NIGHTS

Shattered dreams last night.

Tossed and turned with all my might.

No safe space in sight.

AMERICAN NIGHTS

Shattered dreams last night.

Tossed and turned with all my might.

No safe space in sight.

AFRICAN NIGHTS

Shattered dreams lat night.

Tossed and turned with all my might.

No safe space in sight.

ASIAN NIGHTS

Shattered dreams last night.

Tossed and turned with all my might.

No safe space in sight.

MID-EAST NIGHTS

Shattered dreams last night.

Tossed and turned with all my might.

No safe space in sight.

EUROPEAN NIGHTS

Shattered dreams last night.

Tossed and turned with all my might.

No safe space in sight.

War never ends now.

We don’t know how.

We hold on tight 

to what we do know.

Afraid to let go

during uncertain night

and awaken in hopeful daylight.

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PUBLISH OR PERISH

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON

Each morning, I awaken and write before my mind loses its irrationality and becomes reasonable, blocking out all creativity with the fear of not being perfect. I also face each new morning dreading what I will hear about Ukraine and its people. Recently, my niece has been pushing me to organize the stacks of poetry on the kitchen table and publish a book. She nags so well that I eventually agreed. Having no interest in, nor understanding of, how to format and upload a book I began exploring but was not self-motivated enough to accomplish much until I realized I could maybe help Ukrainians by publishing a book of poetry about the ongoing war with Russia. The photo above is of the book I recently published titled SLAVA UKRAINI, Poems forPeace. It is available for purchase on Amazon at $14.99. All profits from the sale of the book will go to World Food Kitchen Ukrainian effort.

My father and his 3 brothers operated a restaurant called The Center Cafe for 38 years. Returning home to small town Ohio after WWII, they realized no one would hire Italian immigrant men. So, like all immigrants and their children before them and after, they started their own business. Like any Italian worthy of the title they started a food business. The first and last thing visitors to our home had to do was “sit and eat.” So, I chose World Food Kitchen as the donee because I understand the healing power of food served with love and compassion.

I am now determined to improve my publishing skills and make more books. My niece is happy. And I hope I am able to help Ukrainians in my own small way. I hope it means fewer Ukrainians will perish under Russian onslaught. I encourage you to help Ukraine in whichever way you choose to do so. Slava Ukraini !

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THE FROST OF WAR

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Brazen bronze seedbeds

accosted by frozen brown bombs,

following an early frost,

when flowers freeze before

leaves and people fall,

their lively colors trapped

still vibrant and glowing,

as if they are not dead after all.

Broken boards and barren stalls

line the barns left as fallow

as the fields where bombs have fallen.

Images so serene and spare

burn the sockets in despair

that life so precious

no longer has a place

among this not-so-human race.

The season of death and dying

has descended and too many dreams

have been up-ended.

Bursts of air throw up clods of dirt

upon the nations of the earth

burying every sound of mirth

amidst the screams of lasting horror.

And yet we know that Spring will come

after this winter of solemn sorrow.

The best we can do is hope

for a better tomorrow.

So it has ever been

and hopefully,

so it shall be

if only we

can survive

the winter

and war’s demise.

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CLOUDS

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Clouds drape like a shroud

across my visage, arms and legs.

Walking on this windy day is hard

and drags me to the ground

as step by step I pray

for those who hunker down

in homes where danger lays

like hot honey burning the skin,

unable to get away 

from  the flow of screaming

bullets, bombs, and storms

with names like

warlord, Putin and Ian.

Each step I safely take

is heavy, carrying the pain

of others whom I cannot save.

Simply continuing onward

is all I can handle today,

under the shroud,

too slow and weighted down

to make a difference

or even a smile.

How does one lift up others

when lifting a foot 

to go one more step

seems impossible?

Even words are weighted

with unspoken thoughts

too heavy to lift

above the shroud

of a world encased in cloud.

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UKRAINE

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Each day I awake seeking news

of Ukraine’s fight to survive.

Happy I survived another night

to greet a new day

in a place that is safe

from falling bombs

and chemical weapon threats

that blow into my mind

from Syria.

Nuclear threats reach farther,

threatening us all.

Each morning I hope to hear

that Putin has fallen to such disrepute

that he and his type,

his cronies all,

have been put in their place

by their own disgrace.

I awaken seeking peace

among the ruins of Ukraine

whose people could never

be ruined or displaced;

but strengthened and graced

by their courage

and love of country

and one another.

A lesson for us all.

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SEARCHING MAR-a-LAGO

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What will seized papers show

of secrets only a few could know?

Would Russia have invadedUkraine

for what President Trump thought to gain

if he served President Zelensky on a golden plate?

That is his way, as we all know,

never enough gold his greed to satiate.

What cabal operated amidst the Oval Office din

across Foggy Bottom from Russia then back again?

What criminal enterprises are hidden in the folds

of papers boxed away in Mar-a-Lago?

The “Right to Know” answers to such questions

Is the National Archives most sacred treasure,

and the people must know every measure

of every step taken at government’s direction.

Archives exist for our most basic protection

as a free people in a free nation.

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UKRAINE REMAINS

Weary we may be

listening to the 

the distant drone of history

replaying war

across the globe.

This is not some horror film.

This is not some play

on words of war

as people pay

with their lives

while we watch.

There are no intermissions

while we raid refrigerators

to get a snack

then hurry back

to see if the show has

returned from a commercial

break.

Ukraine is breaking apart.

Her skies go unprotected

while we neglect her.

She remains unsafe

as rockets strafe

her innocence

and rape her land.

How can we stand

to watch the terror grow

slowly and surely 

like the lobster 

heating in cold water

until it engulfs all the world.

Ukrainians fight for us.

Can we not fight for them?

Like all terrors this never ends.

It simply waits around the bend

to strike again, and again

and again.

Her skies, her eyes, remain open

while we close our eyes

but not her skies.

Are we staying 

simply waiting

for the end?

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Restless Night and Day

Good morning yellow-beaked robin redbreast.

I see you quenching your thirst in the bird bath of cobalt blue,

Your brown feathers closed and at rest.

You look toward me wondering why

I am not digging earth to reveal

The worms and insects for your next meal.

Like you, I must first

Have breakfast and quench my thirst.

Some mornings start late after hard nights

Catching the painful dreams in my fists

Anchoring my body to the bed as I twist

The anger and fear as shells fall

On Ukrainian apartment buildings,

Killing the old and the very small.

As a young Black man with a traffic violation

is cut down in volleys of bullets on an Akron street,

Joining other Black men and women throughout the nation.

As nine year old rape victims must flee

to another state to be made well,

and women no longer are free where they dwell,.

As thought police with hateful derision of history

block teachers with facts from teaching truth.

In truth, I cannot rest,

dear robin redbreast.

And you, little bird, may already sense the threat

against you and all creatures of earth

from man’s annihilation.

How can anyone rest with such frustration?

Soon, soon, I will join in the garden,

Weeding and dead-heading, disturbing the earth

and drawing the earthworms nearer to you.

Be kind, dear robin, only take what you need

and never, never, be guided by greed.

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VOTE WHILE YOU STILL CAN

The things I would like to forget are clear

while the things I would like to remember

slip away like a playlist on a playback feed.

The happy faces of refugees

making it safely to Lviv,

then on to even safer spaces

are not so clear as those in tears

who remain under siege in fear

that they will die of famine or thirst

or gunshots, missiles, or worse.

Too many soldiers lie in wait

at too many city gates

to begin the killing spree

of genocide against those free

of despots and autocrats

across their borders.

I can barely say the names

of those who live here at home

with the same desire to destroy

our hard won democracy.

It is clear whom they admire.

First, themselves for cleverness

and ability to con under the duress

of fear, superiority and loathing. 

They build fear’s  weapons

and amass stockpiles of fear

funded with tax-free incomes

and air it far and wide,

while they hide as Citizens United

in common cause to destroy

people of color, women, and those whose gender

threatens their white male masculinity

and the women who wash their feet

with unshed tears from their own hidden fears.

Cowards are everywhere.

We used to deride them.

Now we elect them.

I wish we could forget them.

But they are hiding in plain sight.

and they will never do what is right.

And so we must reject them 

and win this last fight against them.

Vote! damn it. Vote!

While you still can.

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DARK DAYS

Is this enough for you,

these coldly dreary days

when dew frost bites

flowers bold enough

to brave the threats

of a winter not quite through?

Snow waits above 

the sky’s borders high

and falls with icy rain in tow

to warming earth down below.

Climate knows not 

which way to go.

She is confused and changeable,

grief-stricken and unreliable,

searching for freedom

amidst the rubble and dark skies,

bringing tears to those-who-love’s eyes.

This is no Arab Spring

where hope can grow.

This is a tethered Spring

driven along by bullying winds

daring anything to grow

or even survive in Mariupol,

now Finland and Sweden, too.

This is a dark cloud eclipsing the sun

where once democracy could freely run.

Is this enough for you;

or too much to bear a moment longer,

wishing we could be as brave as Ukrainians

and so much stronger ?

Is this enough for you ?

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