Tag Archives: WRITING

LITTLE AGITATOR,WHY? BECAUSE!

Louise Annarino, J.D.- The Little Agitator, age 2

Do you recall a nickname from your childhood? Perhaps what your mother called you, how she referred to you? What does it tell you about yourself now? Where do you feel it ? Can you find the love within it? Or, was it something that calls your identity into question ? Can you find humor in it? Or at least make peace with it ?

My Mom had 2 ways she frequently described me, called for me, referred to me. She told me and others I was her “Little Why-Because”. It was frustrating for her to have a daughter who questioned the “why” behind every order, demand or simple request. A daughter who could not accept a simple answer to why night happened.  Who persisted questioning every response, such as earth and sun rotation, with the question, “But, why does the earth rotate? and why around the sun?”. Her final answer was inevitably, “Because.” And, my final question was always, “But, why ‘because’?”.

The second nick-name and descriptor she used to define me to myself and to others was her “Little Agitator.” At first I was clueless at this description, for it seemed to upset her. The only agitator I knew was in the washing machine. It seemed to be  a wonderful thing because it helped make our clothes clean. I was flattered until I understood she did not intend to flatter me. Yet, it still seemed a fine thing to be. It challenged the dirt of lies and unkindness.It challenged the bullies in our neighborhood. It kept my brothers in their place. It seemed boys and men constantly picked apart girls and women. Agitating them seemed a fine way to clean up that mess. I became a stronger agitator with every effort to set thinks right.

So, despite fearing being an agitator in attempting to clean up the life and lives around me, I embraced the role. Despite exasperating family, friends, school teachers, professors, priests ( I was thrown out of religion class twice) and nuns by asking “why”, I relished the discussion and discovery in challenging the status quo. 

Being both a “why-because” and an “agitator” was a helpful combination. I was not a “know-it-all’; but, a “I know nothing so explain it, and you, to me.” Once I understood the place of conflict or hurt, I could agitate to make it better. Agitation alone is not enough to set things right. First we must take the time and ask enough questions to truly understand the need for change, and how to fix things without causing more pain.

American leaders in all walks of life are so focused on making money and attaining power they have not taken the time to ask questions and get to the final “because.” Why do we need a Dept. of Education? What does it do? Why do we need Social Security, SSI, Medicare and Medicaid? What do they do? Why do we need Affirmative Action, diversity and inclusion programs? What do they do? What messes have we Americans made? How do we clean them up? Why do we need courts, laws and regulations? What do they do?

You see my point. What is happening to our country now is an abomination. Elected leaders in the former Republican Party (now a dictatorship in the making) have never taken the time or made the effort to truly see the American people because they have not cared enough to do so, not cared enough to ask, “Why?” Their only concern is how can they reduce cost so we can give tax breaks to the wealthiest Americans we hope emulate. We look for scape-goats to explain why the “big boys” do not share with us, while we watch the crumbs from their table blow in the wind. Cost-cutting is a ruse because the Republican Administrations have repeatedly increased the national debt, while Democratic Administrations have repeatedly reduced the national debt. The tax cuts now headed our way will only increase the debt. The firing of government employees and dismantling of the watch-dog programs will only increase corruption and the national debt, as money disappears into the pockets of private contractors planning to take over education, the military, law enforcement, the postal service, health care and social services. Privatization introduces profit motive which increases costs, and provides greater investment returns for the wealthy who are being excused from tax burdens. Our middle class has been under a destruction plan since the 1980s. It is now coming to fruition. There cannot be a democracy without a strong middle class.

We need more agitators, asking more questions.

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Filed under FAMILY STORIES, POLITICS

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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Filed under art work, POETRY, POLITICS

D.E.I. and I

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I have stayed away from words, 

breathless, in my grief,

for too long.

Diversity is my faith.

Equity is my hope.

Inclusion is my love.

Each breath I take is a promise

that things will be better someday.

And, they have been for a time,

in places expanding across space,

across multiple divides.

In a school, then university.

In a church, then a community.

Across a state, on national forums

Each breath inhaled the hate,

expanded and expelled love in its place.

Breaths took down barriers, created programs,

enacted policies, changed syllabi,

created courses and news ways of seeing,

new avenues of progress, new ways of being.

The backlash always came,

in drips and drabs, all the same.

But this! This! It is a fearsome game.

It is not D.E.I. which they decry.

They want to see us hold our breath

and die.

They SNAP food from the mouths of babes.

They ask the aged and disabled to work their own miracles,

heal themselves without medic-aid,

waste away, and die.

They place tariffs on those who stood at our side.

Making us all pay more for less to save their pride.

They fill their pockets with our labor,

changing coins to crypto for their greedy favor.

They extort heroes who fight to protect freedom world-wide

so that dictators and killers can be by their side.

They miss the days when the few controlled the many.

They refuse to compete, or share even one penny;

pennies earned from our labor, not theirs.

Lately, it seems we have not got a prayer.

We seldom did. But, do not despair.

What we did have was the freedom to try.

Now, our hard-won freedom to speak and act is denied.

We are being denied the right to even try.

We still have one another, and our God-given rights.

We will never allow those to be shoved aside.

And at the end of this life we shall hold hands and sigh

We tried. 

We tried.

We tried!

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

FIGHTING WORDS

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Poetry has fled.

Art hides in plain sight

behind clouds of flame,

beyond winds of change,

before plutocrats take the stage,

no longer waiting behind the scenes

which hide their rage.

Words have lost all meaning

when facts go unchecked

flung too fast to sustain truth 

and belief in its power to right wrongs

for the weak and the poor, 

tossed aside by courts which cower

fearing loss of wealth and power.

Which words are safe when lies procure

the party in power’s silent vote to score

total control of each life, each thought,

each breath threatened by dirty schemes

to pollute the earth, water and air?

Words cannot be spoken, claimed by death

of the rule of law.

No words exist to describe the depravity

some of us saw

as our words lay dying

first inside

then outside

where meaning can be lost.

Words remain frozen in heavy frost,

weighed down by cold hearts

and dead souls

seeking total control.

Freedom resides in words

which too often remain unsaid.

Words too softly spoken to wake

those asleep, escaping, all hopes dead.

Too few words of truth must compete

with an onslaught of unchecked lies.

I listen and watch, lost in thought.

I write and I plead against what we have wrought.

Poetry, I fear, carries too-little weight.

Poetry, perhaps, has waited too late

to escape the threat when so many lies

have buried the truth for power and greed.

Money has always been the creed

clothed in religion and faith

which grants God’s grace

to those who deserve to see His face

on dollar bills and hung on towers.

False gods seek our praise as they devour

a country whose best citizens 

refuse to use their power to remain free,

and would rather lose their democracy.

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Filed under COMMENTARY, POETRY, POLITICS

POETRY FUN

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I cannot wait to write a poem.

Let thoughts begin to roam

across the blank spaces

where I see only faint traces.

Whatever lurks beneath the surface

is always a surprising surfeit

of what has passed and is to become

a new creation time rolled into one.

Nothing it seems is ever lost.

Experience is the cost

of facing new challenges sent

across the waves of time unbent.

Around and round again I go.

Where I shall end up I never know.

And where I have been becomes new.

And where I go is merely a clue.

When I arrive I shall share with you

the route I took to be renewed.

I hope you will join me on the route.

That is what companionship is all about.

Knowing I shall return at the end of the journey

to your company holds me firmly

upright and focused with eyes wide open

to the beauty of words never-before spoken.

I play today to remind myself in this space

that there is always a time and place

to relax and let go, and just have fun;

to remind myself, I have just begun.

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CIVILITY

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Civility is not servility.

Civility ends when aggression begins.

Civility ends when sexism begins.

Civility ends when racism begins.

Civility has no place

when legislation threatens harm.

Civility has no place

when incitement threatens harm.

Civility has no place

when lawlessness threatens harm.

Civility has no place

when disinformation and lies threaten harm.

Servility cannot become an excuse for civility.

Are we to be lead by uncivil hate and greed?

And should we then be civil and agree to bend a knee?

Servility must never be mistaken for civility.

Civility must not become servility.

No bending knees before hate and greed.

No bending knees at the death of democracy.

No bending knees at any man above the law.

No bending knees at freedom’s last straw.

No servility for me. 

I resist any suggestion to show civility

to those insisting upon my servility.

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USE YOUR WORDS

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How often we tell children

“Use your words.”

But, we forget too easily

that words have power

only if they are heard, 

and not dismissed breezily.

Men decided long ago

not to listen to women.

So many lies are told

to quiet women’s voices.

Eve has never been forgiven

for opening men’s eyes 

to painful truths.

Women’s voices are not more shrill.

Women’s screams are not made

to give men their thrills.

Women’s truths are too often

pushed aside to save male pride.

Doors are slammed shut

against voices women can trust.

“Use your words?”

How soon we forget.

Pain is the great motivator

of forgetfulness.

It deadens speech.

It silences words.

Bullies remind us of our pain

to shut our mouths

and drown truth out.

“Use your words!”

Do not forget their power

in the kitchen, in the bedroom,

in the schoolroom, in the boardroom.

“Use your words,” minute by minute,

hour after hour, until the day comes

you  can vote your own power

to “use your words.”

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THE SPACES BETWEEN

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Words on the page matter not at all.

It is the space between the words

where mystery dwells.

I fist my hand around the pen,

my defending weapon of choice,

while I struggle with stories to tell.

I do not explore the words;

but, the spaces between and aside

while I open my self wide.

We may read the words together,

and search the space between words

hand in hand, eye to eye, heart to heart.

No hate can break the bond of words, 

shared in the spaces between, apart.

And, then, we can know all there is to know

as we join our empty spaces

deep and dark, side by side.

Reach for the stars if you will.

I prefer to explore one another

between the the words of languages 

unknown, unable to be spoken.

None of what is written matters at all.

It is the space between words

where love rises and falls.

Hate cannot find its way in the dark.

But, love can. 

Love carries its own light within

the spaces between the words.

Love glows in the dark.

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HAIKU/ POETRY

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Wildly careening

prose portrayed as poetry

fools no one but me.

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A POET’S VIEW

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Paper of every color and hue

unrolls from thousands of inner tubes

that I might write upon a page;

so bright, it dims the sight

and opens the mind to such delight

in cerulean, amaranth, celadon,

garnet, crimson, vermillion

violet, tangerine, ecru and Eton-blue;

colors I can taste and feel

as they unroll reel by reel

so real they dance and sing and swell

until the pen dips in the well.

I wrap each page around each cell

and feel the energy seep through

blood and bone and sinew

into every soft tissue

that pulses with breath 

and laughter and tears,

and beats with heart-felt truth

so hard and fast it hardly knows

what words spill out upon the page,

which black marks ink signs

to tell me the way

while you can see and understand

before I can even comprehend

that a poem has unfurled from tubes

not of cardboard but of gold.

Writing is the treasure of stories untold

and waiting to be wrapped

then given as gifts as colors unfold.

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