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The Cold Wide-Eyed Stare of MAGA women

The Cold-Eyed Stare of MAGA Women A spoken blink through belief and performance

By Vicki Lawana Trusselli Published about a year ago 1 min read
Top Story - July 2025
see credits Trusselli Art

The Cold-Eyed Stare & Sweetie’s Song

Executive Producer: Sweetie Bird (Tray-top Oracle & Blink Director)

Spoken-Word & Direction: Vicki (Storyteller, Satirist, Soul Sculptor)

Visual Editing: Moviemaker (Creative Co-conspirator since 2006)

Stills & Visual Mood: Artguru

Audio Atmosphere: Kling (Chirps, Beats & Alto Realness),Vivago

Soundtrack Pulse: Suno & Vicki (Jazz-Threaded Soul Maps)

Scene Weaving & Ambient Layers: Vivago, KlingAI

Special Thanks: Saxophone swells, poetic blinks, and truth that sings softly between feathers

Artguru

The Cold-Eyed Stare of MAGA Women

By Vicki & Sweetie Bird

There’s a gaze I’ve seen

wide, glassy, frozen.

It doesn’t blink.

It doesn’t breathe.

It wants to scream “faith,”

but looks like someone taped an Instagram filter

onto a soul that forgot how to mirror.

I’ve seen joy.

I’ve seen sacred.

I’ve seen sorrow.

But this stare,

It stays the same laughing, praying, yelling.

Nothing behind the pupil but performance.

Glamour says it’s a style.

I say it’s strange.

A matte-finished martyrdom

coded in contour and conviction.

When I trained as a nurse,

we learned to read the eyes.

When I studied journalism,

we read between the lines.

And in makeup school,

We learned that blush can’t fake spirit.

This isn’t spirit.

It’s shimmer.

This isn’t faith.

It’s facial choreography for the camera.

It’s the kind of stare

that gives me the chills

not because it's holy,

but because it's hollow.

So, I write.

Because throwing up is messy

and truth deserves better lighting.

The Cold-Eyed Stare of MAGA Women

A spoken blink through belief and performance.

I’ve stared back at their eyes

that don’t blink.

Don’t reflect.

Don’t whisper back.

It’s not faith.

It’s façade.

A glossed-over gospel

worn like warpaint.

But here

In this tray-lit room

With wingbeats and jazz

Truth blinks.

Soul sings.

Sweetie watches me write,

choosing tunes with a nod.

The sax hums like breath returning

to places those stares forgot.

So, we blink back.

With melody. With satire.

With soft feathers that see more

than any cold-eyed stare ever dared to.

Written, created, edited by

Vicki Lawana Trusselli

Trusselli Art

copyright 2025

California

MY PARTNER IN MUSIC, SWEETIE BIRD TRUSSELLI

Free Verseartsocial commentarysurreal poetryFor FunSong LyricsinspirationalMental Healthfact or fictionStream of ConsciousnessProseperformance poetry

About the Creator

Vicki Lawana Trusselli

I am 76 year old California mythic storyteller blending lived truth, technology, and sovereign survival into multimedia art.

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    Written by Vicki Lawana Trusselli