Writing in the dark
is hard, requires balance,
leaning on insight.
Things do not smell right
despite heightened sense of smell
and story to tell.
Writing in the dark
makes hard to appreciate
journalists who fall.
Things are now hidden
behind false information.
See? Nothing at all.
And, so it goes down:
free speech, free press, redress.
Democracy Dark!
Even the pictures on the wall
are tilted to the right.
Was there another disturbance overnight?
A tweet, and email, a deep-meet out of sight?
Did I stay asleep to avoid another fright?
When dawn came to anew and renew me
I woke to the strengthening light.
I straightened every picture on every wall.
Was all this only a nightmarish dream after all?
I suddenly feel stronger, the longer I recall
what the world looked like before America’s fall.
Once again, I vow, Americans will be able to stand tall.
Nature restores balance
upset by human hands
on air and sea and land.
Government becomes unbalanced
when leaders fail to understand
no government can serve us
when controlled by a single man.
No single party can control
a seamless governance of the whole.
Power unbalanced is doomed to fail.
History and Nature tell the tale.
Diversity is the golden rule of life,
counteracting hidden strife
as it strives to interact and share
what keeps the planet alive and fair,
what makes us glad to be alive.
Cooperation is not just wise.
It is the seed of all that grows.
It is the only means Nature knows
to grow the wheat and the rose,
to water the farmland and dry the bog,
to cool summer heat and fire winter’s log,
to spread seeds on the breeze of dawn
and weight the wind blowing too strong.
We have run away from Nature far too long.
We have forgotten to listen to Nature’s song.
We have been singing a discordant tune
to instruments so loud, the song is ruined.
But Nature always restores balance.
It is the base note of Nature’s parlance.
Take off your shoes and walk in the grass.
Feel the freedom you feared lost in the past.
Turn your face into the wind and hold tight.
Feel the freedom you feared lost beyond your sight.
Wade in puddles catching raindrops on your tongue.
Feel the freedom you feared lost and with hands wrung.
We fear we have no way to save our nation.
But Nature gives us a new generation
every spring and through every season
Nature restores our world and our reason.
Balance of Power is the song of the hour.
MAGA CIRCUS
The clown leads the circus parade
Following the elephant ahead,
Carrying shovels to clean up the way,
And invite us under the tent.
The clown interrupts each display
Of circus performers’ great feats.
The clown make us laugh to distraction
And keeps us in our seats.
The clown is what we best recall,
For memories are short.
We may not remember what we see.
But, we remember how hard we laughed.
The circus is not a school to teach.
The circus is a business to empty our pockets
Until it once more moves on.
The circus is not a church where we pray.
But a place we feel it is okay to play.
When the tent stakes are pulled and the circus train pulls away
All that remains is an empty field
Trod into mud on rainy days.
MY FELLOW AMERICANS
I hold my tongue.
It takes strength I do not have.
Whimpers escape
On shattered breaths,
In silent screams.
The fight worries my soul,
Battle weary and choking,
On words held tight inside.
Once the scream begins
I doubt I could stop.
I wait for your speech.
I yearn for your promise
To stop the authoritarian
Who has taken over our house,
Emptied its vaults,
Stolen its wealth,
Sold its power
To the highest bidders.
So, I write. That I can do
While I wait for you.
To me, this nothing new.
Do you believe me now?
Wake up.
Sit at the table.
Open the MacBook.
Click on the key.
Open Pages.
Take a deep breath.
What new horror?
Unlock the jaw.
Try to forget.
Relax the fingers.
Swallow the sigh.
Move the cursor.
Try not to cry.
Who was stolen overnight?
Who was charged?
What new non-crime planted?
What court noted what lies?
With what order do they not comply?
What illegal moves have they made?
When will law once again rule the day?
Discover anger and fear drops away.
There is beauty outside.
There is love everywhere.
Take a deep breath.
Breathe slow and deep.
Beg the silent watchers to wake.
Do not despair.
This has become my mourning prayer.
As a lawyer, I am in deep mourning over the DOJ and SCOTUS breech with Constitutional law, precedent and ethics. The law is king in the United States. No man is above it. Apparently, leaders of this current republican-controlled administration believe they are our now our “supreme leaders”. Speaker Johnson keeps the House of Representatives on vacation for another week, and refuses to swear in an elected official to protect the release of files naming powerful pedophiles and rapists. A private army in masks, with no names, kidnap citizens and non-citizens and disappear them. This is evil done in our name. Seven million speak out. But, most do not. They go about their day, perhaps complaining about high prices. As if that is what the true issue is. When hate and destruction attempt to rule over all of us. The White House is being deconstructed both physically and morally. Pray with me, even if you lack the will to fight with me.
The day begins with signs
Of all that any patriot finds
In need of expression
To resist oppression.
We line the streets
Feet deep
Only to meet
Aggression
From those who seek
Our suppression.
Gerrymandered districts
Are incomplete,
Unable to meet
Fair representation,
Denying the nation
one person one vote,
Intimidation afloat
In every state.
We pray it is not too late.
We pray our efforts matter.
We pray our mad-as-hatter
Administration
Stops destroying our beloved nation.
We sing. We dance. We shout.
This is what democracy is about.
No kings today.
No kings in any way.
No kings over courts’ justice.
No kings over any of us.
Every king eventually falls.
We do not want a king at all.
The ballerina pirouettes.
Round and round she goes.
Her satin slippers turn endlessly
as she balances on her toes.
Dizzying it would certainly be
to spin so unnecessarily.
But, she uses a trick she very well knows.
She picks a single point in sight
and holds her focus on that point, so tight.
She keeps her balance and dances on,
steady as the graceful dancer we all know.
And when the music ends
as every song must
she takes her bow and we all cheer.
America is well and still on her feet,
avoiding the fall we all feared.
America shall dance again
as soon as the new song begins.
Voters shall pick a tune they enjoy,
one that cares for every girl and boy,
for every color, race and creed,
for laborers and workers, rather than greed.
The Land of the free.The home of the brave.
The audience of those who refused to cave.
Ballerinas keep their eyes on the prize.
Focus and keep dancing: a word to the wise.
Keep dancing to your own true beat.
Stay focused and stay on your feet.
STORMY NIGHT
Scattered rain was predicted.
The evening news meteorologist
calmly warned of light rain.
Instead, a wild storm came
filling the night with thunder
and meaningless blunder
as lightening broke asunder
a peaceful, if not restful, sleep.
Too wild a storm to venture out in.
A storm to set us back and shut blinds
to keep from seeing or fearing ruin.
This storm rapidly blew in
while most of us slept.
At sunrise, when I rose, I looked outside,
finally, and see the truth.
It is not what I was told, nor surmised.
The yard is battered.
its inhabitants scattered in burrows;
the garden littered and furrowed
by limbs dragged and cuffed.
The flag hangs upside down
until it touches the ground
in sacrilege and shame.
The flag holder has been pulled loose,
its screws unscrewed, its anchor
pulled apart and left hanging in dark space
through a night of constant turmoil,
leaving my flag drenched and soiled.
In morning light I could finally see
the upending of democracy,
right on my front porch
where everyone could if they would
easily see. No neighbor reported
nor interceded to fix a flag so distorted.
But, false solar lights alone
across the yard ways shone,
too low-light to assess
a flag under duress.
In morning light, in my nightgown I alight
to pull my flag up and close.
I place it upright to stand tall,
allowing the tears soaking it to fall,
that it may slowly dry out with the sky;
held by a newly installed holder,
one stronger and bolder.
I promise you this: the flag, my flag,
will soon again fly safe and free.
As will all of our beloved country.
annarino writes 
DECONSTRUCTION
The streets were lined for blocks on end.
Signs reminded all who rejoiced to attend
Why they walked and talked and smiled and waved
At passing cars who braved delays
While drivers honked horns and shouted out
“Vote him out and make it a rout!”
Costumed critters danced to our delight
Knowing their freedom would give him a fright.
Deconstruct the lies we have been told.
Deconstruct the narrative being sold.
Deconstruct the bullie’s hold.
Deconstruct institutional mold.
Gather in peace the young and the old.
Stronger are you, more wise, more bold.
Deconstruct so we can rebuild
What he has destroyed with his minions’ lack of skill.
We know how to do this, and more.
We have done it many times before.
My thanks to my friends in Clintonville area of Columbus who helped me attend this moment of patriots’ challenge to the con men robbing the USA of its power, wealth, ideals and humanity. The lack of media coverage was appalling. The misrepresentation of attendance numbers cannot be challenged when media fails to provide images of the gatherings. A local station covered it AFTER it was over and crowds had dispersed. Another stated hundreds attended when it was actually thousands. We are here. We are resisting. We are going nowhere until the despotism and kidnapping of people and the Supreme Court, universities, news organizations, social media outlets, medical and public health Institutions… even our very language and the meaning of words and phrases has been brought to an end and freedom restored.
We shall not be silenced.
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