Tag Archives: UKRAINE

Campaign Music

No single note is discordant.

No single vote voiced is wrong.

How the songwriter

puts the notes together

determines the song.

Our brains fine-tune our ears

to listen for the meaning

of words carried on the notes.

Some songs lift our spirits

to reach a higher cause.

Some songs depress our spirits

and make our hearts pause

with the fear of the other

we hated all along.

Some songs get us on our feet

to dance together, smile and sing.

Some songs hold us in our seats

ready to shout out in defeat.

The songs which truly make us strong

Are those we can rely upon

to offer hope, and love, and peace.

How the notes are brought together means everything.

The music that is America

is hard to sing if notes

are not treasured,

So many notes over so many years

from so many places refugees fled in fear

of famine, crime and even war.

We have sung the song of safety and of freedom,

welcoming all to our shore.

Songs that open minds and hearts

are the best place to start

a journey to a better future;

unlike the songs meant to keep us apart.

So many discordant notes

strung together create chaos,

not a strong and lovely song.

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HOSTAGES

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We are all hostages.

bound by screens 24/7

of hateful acts and sorrowing loss

entertained by relief

it is not we

who suffer it all.

Yet, we do.

We only know if we stop

long enough to sense our loss

of innocence and trust

and thus

we hurry along from screen to screen

and from scene to scene

until there is not time

to reason and rhyme

the truth we cannot allow

ourselves to realize

we are the prize

captured by those who control

what we see

and what we know.

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REMEMBER THAT THOU ART DUST

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Revenge is a dish

best served cold.

forgiveness is a feast

meant to feed us all.

When fear replaces hope,

and impulse thoughtfulness,

death becomes 

the boon companion

of he who wields the sword

to decapitate infants,

shoots the gun

to annihilate a people,

or sets the fire

to decimate a place.

There is no saving grace.

There is no promise of immortality

to be fulfilled in hateful commonplace. 

There is only disgrace.

Personal value, human value,

no longer take the stage,

nor takes a bow, by those enraged.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Forgiveness is a feast for all.

Where it can be found,

nor how,

I no longer know.

But search I must,

before we all turn to dust.

Photo by Berke Araklu0131 on Pexels.com

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Available on Amazon.

All profits go to Ukraine World Food Kitchen. Ukraine still needs our help. If you enjoy reading my poetry I ask you to either buy this book so more money can be raised. Or, even better, if poetry is not your “thing”, simply make a donation in whatever amount you can afford to a charity of your choosing to help Ukrainians

SLAVA UKRAINI: POEMS FOR PEACE

SLAVA UKRAINI: POEMS FOR PEACE

by LOUISE ANNARINO | Dec 3, 2022

5.0 out of 5 stars 3

Paperback

$14.99 

FREE delivery Fri, Jul 7 on $25 of items shipped by Amazon

Or fastest delivery Wed, Jul 5

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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

Photo by Megan Ruth on Pexels.com

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

Photo by Jacob Morch on Pexels.com

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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