This Brave American, Ashli Babbitt

“It is the dead, not the living, who make the longest demands.” —Sophocles, “Antigone”

by Usa W Celebride

The Democrats stole the election—Ashli Babbitt knew;
so she went to the Capitol to share her point of view.
There she was murdered by a member of DC’s police
that true American and patriot who found no peace.
There is no peace, as long as she is not remembered by
the Congress that perpetuates the lie that took her life.
But when I die, and I am gone from this land that she loved,
these words are all I have for one who gave her life, her blood,
for truth, for honour, for this land, this brave American.
How can one rest if she is not interred in Arlington?



Dithering in the USA

by Caud Sewer Bile

They say a crisis is a terrible thing to create;
yet that’s exactly what the Biden Admin’s done of late.
As thousands cross the border daily, chaos reigns supreme.
To get into the USA is everybody’s dream.
But criminals and COVID positives are coming too;
the southern porous border has become a deadly stew.
Since he became the Resident of fenced-off Washington,
the situation is more dangerous with every month.
But he seems unaware; he dithers every single day.
Within less than two months he blithers in the USA



Bonfire of the Vanities

“From Shakespeare…gushed a flame of…splendor…men shaded their eyes…” —Nathaniel Hawthorne, Earth’s Holocaust

by Cadwel E. Bruise

Ah, yes, the human race had since become so brilliant that
they thought to banish all the fat, to burn the round Earth flat.
They thought to burnish inner cities; making no-go zones.
That way they’d rid the world of injustice, crimes and loans.
They thought to banish the police so there would be no laws.
They thought to nix philosophers so there would be no cause.
They thought to cut out words from their vocabulary lists.
They thought to banish mathematics and the scientists.
They were so brilliant that they thought to censor common sense.
They outlawed man and woman due to their intelligence.
The happier they were, the more they burned, the more they lost.
They threw Nathaniel Hawthorne’s words onto Earth’s holocaust.



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22 Responses

  1. Norma Okun

    Dithering in the USA your poem screams out for justice. They say do what is right. I only say that since I grew up with a hater of communism who even had his books printed in 1963 about the way America saved Central America from Castro. Now since all they promised was a lie, and the only thing they cared about was Chiquita banana and standard oil. The poor are poorer and the suffering never stopped. Now the Americans say what? There is no more Castro or communism to oppose the American dream down in Guatemala, El Salvador. They are crossing the border looking for it. They were promised a lot and got a kick in the butt.

    • BDW

      The poem “Dithering in the USA” may “scream for justice”; but it mainly emphasizes political inactivity in the Biden administration, partially through repetition and alliteration in a vague, abstract manner. It does not touch upon the history, or various players, as Ms. Okun does, when she mentions, e.g., Chiquita, Castro and communism, but rather mentions criminals and COVID. A poem could more thoroughly handle the horrifying criminality at loose in Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador, but this I did not do. Perhaps Ms. Okun could do that, as she feels very strongly about that. Her vantage point reminds me of that of Postmodernist Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997), a poet whose work I do not deeply appreciate, but whose voice seems strangely familiar in these crazy times.

  2. Carole Mertz

    Bruce, I am appreciating these poems of yours. Sometimes a poem serves a purpose of being so soothing — just the knowing that one’s viewpoints are shared. And now I’m also pondering your quote from ‘Antigone’ which I’ll probably ponder for, well, for a pretty long while. Thank you for your poems!

    • BDW

      Ms. Mertz, in reference to these three recent tennos, brings up the important topic of the purpose of poetry, when she speaks of the “purpose of being so soothing—just the knowing that one’s viewpoints are shared”. That topic is so large and so important to me, it is amazing (at least to me) that I have never discussed its serious depths with anyone—ever. And I really do not have the energy to write that essay (or book) at this time; though I do believe my views, though I have never heard them expressed before, are linked deeply to the great tradition of poetry, since the time of Homer, and before. In the English tradition, I think my views are closest to those of T. S. Eliot; and yet my disagreements with him are profound. Anyway, I hope Ms. Mertz can accept an answer around her point.

      First off, what struck me most about her observation was the word “soothing”. For me, none of these tennos was “soothing” to write, though I understand her point about the soothing nature of acknowledgement. The docupoem about the crisis at the border is the least satisfying of these three works, partly, because, as Ms. Okun noted, it is incomplete. There are so many issues relating to drugs, the human trafficking, the Cartels, the potential for terrorism, the ongoing slaughter of individuals, as well as journalists, near the border, the corruption of Wall Street, Democratic operatives, politicians of both parties, clandestine intel ops, etc. The poem is nothing more than noting the catastrophe at the US-Mexican border.

      One of my major themes of the last decade, and probably this one as well, appears in the tennos on the burning of books, a theme handled brilliantly by one of American literature’s dark Romantics, Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864). That tennos, without alluding to other works, like “Fahrenheit 451” by PostModernist American novelist and short story writer Ray Bradbury (1920-2012), was paired elsewhere with a quatrain on Cancel Culture of the 1640s, as in “The Scarlet Letter”, drawing parallels to a constant predicament in the history of humanity. If nothing else (and there is so much more), Hawthorne was a prophet of the New Millennium.

      The least “soothing” for me to write was the poem on Ashli Babbitt. I had already written a tennos which included Ashli Babbitt, and I thought I was done with her as a topical individual; because I usually limit one tennos per individual—humanity is so huge. But Ashli Babbitt presented greater demands, especially as she was excoriated by the techno-tyranny as a traitor, Though unbeknownst to me at the time, she still was calling me. There was something about the purity of her action that required a greater clarity, and what I would call a classical stance, which dovetailed perfectly, in my mind, with Sophocles’ “Antigone” (not like Matthew Arnold in “Dover Beach”). It’s another one of those poems, like “The Parkland, Florida, School Shooting”, that I did not want to write but pressed upon me, until it was written.

  3. Norma

    I only meant that crossing the border did NOT begin with Biden. I do not like Ginsberg. He is not a poet. The history of the US and Latin America has not been seen. It is not Biden who caused the immigration problem. Biden is an inefficient President.

    • BDW

      In response to Ms. Okun’s comment:

      The power of the poetry of Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) is in his development, after Walt Whitman (1819-1892), Carl Sandburg (1878-1967), William Carlos Williams (1883-1963), and Ezra Pound (1885-1972), of the emotionally charged longer line. It almost seems a throw-back to fall back, through Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) and indigenous Anglo-Celtic folk poetry to the iambic heptameter; but it is what makes the most sense to me at this time. The important thing for me is the deeper penetration of meaning and the integration of a freer and more complex linguistic creation.

      As to the overwhelming crisis at the border; this disaster is all on the Biden Administration. The numbers of unvetted immigrants has skyrocketed since Trump was ousted by the Democratic coup. The unscreened diseases, terrorists, criminals, drug and human trafficking, etc. is a humanitarian disaster.

      • Norma Okun

        Yes a child at the border lost, no parents and all strange to her. I was no better than that child at the border. I know what the children are feeling. It brings tears to my eyes that the Biden administration has no clue what to do. Neither of them do. Harris and Biden mind you they could be the good pair of Bonny and Clyde at the border. You are so kind, thank you for your comment to me.

  4. Margaret Coats

    This Ashli Babbitt poem (your second about her) does pose a “long demand” with the suggestion that she be buried at Arlington. The immediate answer is that she didn’t do the requisite time in service or receive high enough awards for valor to qualify, nor did she die in a recognized national conflict. Perhaps your poems will show someone capable of writing a biography that full material for it needs to be gathered now. I know of a man who might have received the Medal of Honor for an act of heroism in Vietnam–but that turned out to be impossible because all necessary witnesses were killed in battle the same day. Like Ashli, he went on to show courage in the excruciating battle of public opinion. We need to know as much as possible, from every witness and source, about the circumstances of Ashli’s death and her motives for everything she did. If you inspire the beginnings of biographical accounts, whether favorable or hostile, you will have done her good service.

    • BDW

      As she often does, Ms. Coats dispassionately and carefully articulates her thoughtful points of view. Whether the “long demand” is ever accomplished or not, I have had my say; in life (or death) one cannot have much more than that. Where the poem may go, I do not know, and yet, like Ezra Pound, with his book, I have sent it out.

      I must admit the final line came to my mind only after completing number nine. But when it hit, it came with such intensity, I could not hold it back; it felt so right. As to the “requisite time in service” or “high enough awards” that seems off the mark to me, as does the fact that she did not die in “a recognized national conflict”. Your arguments are as valid as those of Ismene, and yet…

      Although I am not interested in doing so, I agree, it would be nice for someone to write a biography of her, to “learn as much as possible from every witness and source about the circumstance of her death”. If someone did that, that person would be more than welcome to use this poem in any capacity whether their work was “favorable or hostile”. But whether such a one were inspired to write a biography, it would have little to do with me. The words in this tennos are self-contained; it is its own territory.

      • Margaret Coats

        My “arguments” above are official requirements for burial at Arlington National Cemetery. As Arlington is our premier national cemetery, requirements are higher than for the others. An Air Force member no longer on active duty would need to have served the full career twenty years, or be awarded the Air Force Cross, and the Cross is awarded only for valor in combat with an enemy during wartime. Unlike Ismene, these requirements do not intend to leave anyone unburied or dishonored. There are other national cemeteries where former service members may be buried, even if they served only a short time and earned no particular distinction.

        While your poems are indeed their own self-contained territory, I would suggest sending them to next-of-kin or others who could be the ones directly responsible for the further memorial of a written account of Ashli’s life. This little attention could provide consolation to mourners, and help demonstrate the public interest needed for a capable writer to take up the biography project. The time for gathering as much information as possible is now. You are quite right that we don’t create poems for such purposes, and don’t measure the success of a poem by anything non-poetic it may happen to do. Still, don’t neglect the potential.

  5. Paul Freeman

    When you are at the head of a mob that’s attacking the seat of government, some might not consider such a person a ‘martyr’.

    Interesting takes on some political hot potatoes.

    • Margaret Coats

      How far your one-sentence judgment might be valid is exactly what cool time and reasoning, and the testimony of fuller information, needs to determine. As you say, the opinion, or even the information, provided by “some,” is not enough.

    • Joe Tessitore

      “Mob” and “attacking”
      are certainly open to question, since there is video of them standing inside roped barricades with their hands behind their backs.
      When that “government” is a the result of a thinly veiled coup, then “martyr” is clearly the appropriate word to use.

      • Joe Tessitore

        And those who might not consider her a martyr?
        Those whose unbridled hatred fueled the last four years of what passed as political discourse here in the States, including actual mobs which did in fact burn and kill and loot, and what led them to vote for a man who, in the opinion of Australia’s P.M., is clearly demented.

    • Conor Kelly

      Maybe, just maybe, if you read the poem as satire it will work better. The sing-song rhythm and the simple rhymes along with the emotive language – stole, murdered, gave her life – all lead to a hilarious concluding line, one in which a domestic terrorist is buried among those who fought terror. Greatly enhances and undercuts the tenor of the previous lines. Auden would smile.

    • BDW

      as per Lew Icarus Bede:
      “This Brave American, Ashli Babbitt” is a brief poem of ten lines of iambic heptameter, what the author has called a tennos. It is a series of five couplets. Embedded in its title is its straightforward, central theme.

      Contrary to Mr. Freeman’s view, the poet nowhere suggests that Ashli Babbitt was “at the head of a mob…attacking the seat of government”, nor does the poet suggest Ashli Babbitt is a “martyr”; those are not the poet’s words, nor his diction. It does, as Mr. Freeman has noted, in its narrowness and brevity, touch upon “some political hot potatoes”.

      The opening couplet immediately strikes: “The Democrats stole the election…” This is in reference to the Presidential election of 2020. He then notes that Ashli Babbitt was aware of this, “so she went to the Capitol to share her point of view”. The language is clear and veering upon nursery-rhyme, oral-folk simplicity.

      The second couplet is as jolting as the first in its straightforward reporting. “There she was murdered by a member of DC’s police”; and is followed, less alliteratively, by “that true American and patriot” denied “peace”.

      In regards to the tone of the poem overall, it is as if the poet had in mind the stirring, almost throbbing, iambic tetrameters of Holmes’ “Old Ironsides” seasoned with the tragic wistfulness of McCrae’s rondeau “In Flanders Fields”.

      The third couplet, reminiscent of Patrick Henry’s noted speech to the Virginia Convention, reiterates as Henry does, that “There is no peace…” as long as she is not remembered—not by the “free” press, cowardly courts, or even a majority of the American people—but by the Congress, where she died. Here the contrast between the “true” American and the “Congress that perpetuates the lie that took her life” could not be made more stark, emphasized in the concluding assonance.

      As in the sestet of a sonnet, there is a turn in the fourth couplet. The transition moves to the poet himself, linked thematically and assonantally, “But when I die…” The monosyllables of the fourth couplet, combined with an approximate rhyme “loved…blood”, give it a strange, almost holding-in-place, pattern.

      The final couplet, with its triple anaphora of for, followed by repeated words in the tennos and title, concludes the thought set up in the previous couplet, which itself sets up the last line, a question, the unlikelihood of which, because of legal requirements and a corrupt government, seems to almost preclude a positive answer. The economy of phrasing, the simplicity of diction, and the quote from Sophocles’ “Antigone”, places the poem in that large pantheon of poems following Simonides classic “On the Spartan Dead at Thermopylae”.

  6. Joe Tessitore

    “This Brave American” pulls at my heart and brings tears to my eyes and calls for a response even before I read the rest of Mr. Wise’ poetry – Mr. Wise once again at his best.

    • BDW

      As usual, I appreciate the diverse responses to my verse, not least of all, the negative ones; for in them one can gauge how the poetry is viewed. Of these three tennos here, if I ever have a book of poems published (which seems highly unlikely, as no one I know would be interested in it), I would place “This Brave American” in it, because it does exactly what I wanted it to do. The dithering poem is a wash, and the Hawthorne poem really only a sketch. So now why do I like the Ashli Babbitt poem?

      The words meshed. Now my poetry is not generally a popular poetry; even in just the few critiques here that is fairly obvious; ours is not an era of perspicacious criticism: my allusions are nearly always missed and my straightforward prosy poetry excoriated for its blunt metrics. This makes me feel I am on the right track for what I am striving for, a flexible poetic line that can embrace, the unattainable ideal—anything.

      First off, the poem is on the bravery of a specific American. Vilified by most Americans, and uninteresting to most of the World, it is a poem that has narrowed its audience enormously. Its controversial aspects make it seem like a “hot potato”. In fact, it was a poem I dreaded to publish. I am so thankful I did, however, because of Mr. Tessitore’s comment: “it pulls at my heart and brings tears to my eyes”. Nonwithstanding his positive comments, I am blown away by Mr. Tessitore’s natural anapestic tetramer remark; that alone was worth the writing of the poem. He succinctly caught the tone, revealed in his patriotic response. I think if the poem is ever republished, it is only right I should dedicate it to him, if he deems that okay. I personally would not expect such a response in a hundred years

      Another reason why I like the poem is because of Ms. Coats’ commentary. Though she looks rather unfavouably upon the last line of the poem, her extraordinary discussion on its inappropriateness is extremely heartening. Why? Well, because, although I really disagree with Ms. Coats’ analyses, especially of my work, one can see she is a very serious critic. She seems to think my use of the term “Arlington” is profane, if not outright sacrilegious, mainly because it clashes with reality. This values the poem as actual artifact, so that there is a desire to have nothing askew in the tennos. That she finds it wrong is what I exactly want. It’s off—even though it is merely imbedded in a question. It is the technique of the 19th century American poet, Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), who frequently concentrates the greatest import in her poems in the final word, as for example, in a poem, like “Apparently With No Surprise”.

      That Mr. Kelly and Mr. Freeman spurn the thesis, as well, tells me I have hit the mark I was aiming for. Though I appreciate Mr. Kelly’s remark more for its poetic critique This tennos is decidedly anti-Audenesque, except perhaps for the word “she”, suggesting a subtle distant detachment in L7. [Though I like certain aspects of Auden’s poetry, the comment of his that I have held most closely is one I can’t find on the Internet. In an interview of decades ago, he said it is the person doing crosswords not the person who has passion for what he writes is more likely the real poet. [I remember when I was in high school, the first time I received money for work I had done was a crossword on places around the World.] In light of that remark, I feel the Ashli Babbitt poem’s most perfect rhyme pair is “loved…blood”: l, schwa (American), d. and the voiced stop and fricative labials b & v. [It is both the discord and perfection that I like.]; and it is just such minor miracles that I enjoy when writing a poem.

      • Conor Kelly

        I am sorry the comparison with Auden upset you. I was thinking of his Epitaph on a Tyrant with its great last line. In the absence of irony, in the simplicity of its politics and in what you rightly call “its blunt metrics” and its “nursery rhyme oral-folk simplicity” your wonderfully “straightforward prosy poetry” reminds me of that great Scottish poet, William McGonagall. I wish you every success in finding a publisher.

  7. BDW

    First off, Mr. Kelly’s initial, indirect “comparison” of “Ashli Babbitt” “with Auden” did not “upset” me at all; I find the topic of the influences upon one’s writing fascinating, whereas Mr. Kelly’s second comparison of “Ashli Babbitt” to Mr. McGonagall’s poetry is banal. What is disappointing about Mr. Kelly’s criticism is its lack of richness; but then he may not be striving to be a traditional literary critic.

    In his initial, terse comment Mr. Kelly did not mention a poem I was unaware of, Auden’s “Epitaph on a Tyrant”. Here it is:

    Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
    And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
    He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
    And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
    When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
    And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

    In the poem of six lines of loose anapestic tetrameter (the last line beginning with an iambic pentameter), with its diffuse rhyme scheme, abbcac, its “easy to understand”, albeit subtle, message, and its ironic, abstract tone, it shows the basic mastery in the best writing of Auden (1907-1973). It is insightful, but, because of its detached tone, there is no bravery in the poem, as in the Stalin epigram by Osip Mandelstam (1891-1938), who was killed for his poetry in a Soviet Communist purge. The difference is in the specificity.

    And this, I suspect Mr. Kelly understands having read some of his poetry online, which could be worthy of more investigation. Perhaps he is more influence by Auden than I am. Like Sylvia Plath, and many others, literary critic Dana Gioia has been influenced by Auden’s work for “its music, its intelligence, and its great sense of fun”. Among the poems of Auden I appreciate is “The Unknown Citizen (To JS/07M378 This Marble Monument Is Erected by the State”, which serves as a counter to elucidate our different approaches.

    In the Ashli Babbitt poem, I did not use the original Greek lines (75-77) for SCP; however, when published again, I would prefer to use the Greek. As Ms. Mertz responded so profoundly, I thought I should say at least a couple of things about it. Here listed below (from Perseus, on the Internet) are the the lines in question. followed by Perseus’ translation, and finally by a closer look.

    ἐπεὶ πλείων χρόνος 75
    ὃν δεῖ μ᾽ ἀρέσκειν τοῖς κάτω τῶν ἐνθάδε.
    ἐκεῖ γὰρ αἰεὶ κείσομαι:

    For the time is greater =
    that I must serve the dead than the living,
    since in that world I will rest forever.

    since greater time
    that-which (it-is-necessary) (for-me) to-benefit those below from-those to-here,
    there because [postpositive] always I-shall-lie.

    Other than the utter brilliance of “Antigone” as a whole [Imagine all of Sophocles’ missing tragedies!], one finds everywhere in the drama remarkable lines. Notice there is no “living” and “dead” in the lines, but rather, at the end of L76, “those to here” and “those below”. The lines are so simple and so profound, and the viewpoint spectacular I am in awe of them. Notice the break in the iambic right there: τοῖς κάτω τῶν ἐνθάδε : Here is a real master wordsmith/artist in the midst of his production. Ms. Coats noted I had written a poem on Ashli Babbittt earlier, and Ashli Babbitt actually appeared in a poem not printed @SCP], but it wasn’t until this poem that I achieved my needed katharsis.

  8. Conor Kelly

    I am glad, Bruce, that my comparison of your poem to the works of Auden did not upset you. But I have a difficulty in seeing why my comparison of your work to McGonagall might be what you call “banal”. After all, the terms you use to describe your own poetic intentions – “nursery rhyme oral-folk simplicity” and “straightforward prosy poetry” – are the very terms applied to my own favourite Scottish poet, Mr McGonagall.
    You are perfectly right when you say I am not striving to be a traditional literary critic. In all honesty, I would have difficulty in distinguishing an anarchist from an anapaest. So I am quite willing to defer to your greater acumen in that area. When I was at school I used to hate those notes at the back of the text book that tried to reduce poetry to its prosody.
    What I do enjoy is humorous poetry and I did enjoy your poem. I know I have commented on the last line and mistook its ironic intent. Maybe I also misread its first line or first half-line – “The Democrats stole the election….” At first I thought this was a further example of irony. After all, democrats are in favour of elections and, logically, cannot steal them. But then I realised that you were writing about a particular American political party, the Democrats, and the phrase lost all its irony.
    That led me to remember an incident when I ended up in a pub in Cootehill, a Republican area of County Cavan, Ireland, in the 1980’s. (Republican here refers to an Irish tradition, not an American political party.) A local farmer, somewhat the worse for wear after a few pints of Guinness, was shouting out loud, “A boulder up the arse. That’s what Maggie Thatcher needs. A boulder up the arse.” (A boulder is a large rock.) Now it may have been an incendiary remark and it may have been politically controversial, like your first line, but I think you will agree that it was very poetic. And that is where I have a difficulty with your first line. If it is not comical or ironic, then what is it? Shelly used to come out with these blunt statements (I am a literary critic) but he could use them to pack a punch.

    I met Murder on the way–
    He had a mask like Castlereagh–
    Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
    Seven blood-hounds followed him

    Now there is political poetry for you.
    I wish you luck in getting your work published. (I have not succeeded.) But, like me, you might ponder the desire of W. B. Yeats “to hold in a single thought reality and justice.” And just as Yeats balanced the two in his great poem, Easter 1916, you might consider the concordance of reality and justice on January 6th.

    • BDW

      Mr. Kelly has spent a good effort in his response, so I should like to respond to his remarks, because one can critically evaluate what one thinks about poetry, as Keats did in his letters, etc.

      First off, my interest in McGonagall is less than that of Auden, which, in turn, is less than that of Yeats, etc. McGonagall was a popular, published poet in his lifetime; and I am certainly not that. Of the latter two writers, I have been influenced (which is not the same as admiring) by only a few of their poems, partly because there are so many other just as decent writers in the World, and other writers draw my attention too; and also because, of the thousands of semi-competent writers of just the last quarter of a millennium, I tend to only appreciate a few poems of each, both for enjoyment and technique.

      On this topic, I could write much more, but to do so, would pull from my own work, as Pope’s translations of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey did to his. I tried to explain this in a comment on Christopher Flint’s poem on the SCP; but that poem and those comments have been removed from this site. My main point is that there are not that many high quality poems of any writer of the last 250 years. This is not to deny the nursery rhyme quality of Blake, the oral-folk poetry of Coleridge’s “Rime”, or the prosaic power of Auden’s “Musee” or Yeats’ “2nd Coming”. etc. This has to do with my conviction that the great traditional bodies of literature, philosophy, history and mathematics are accumulative and gleaned by their practitioners.

      Here we have a genuine disagreement. I think prosody matters, and it matters deeply; so deeply, in fact, I find myself in rebellion with most of the English literary tradition, including some disagreements with my favourite writer in English: William Shakespeare.

      I, too, enjoy humourous poetry and prose, and ironic poetry and prose, as in my recent poem, “Frankly, There Are Many Ways to Spell Uggly”. [I am reminded of Housman’s “Terence, This Is Stupid Stuff”.] But I also feel the need to write epic and tragic poetry and prose, if not in prevailing forms, like Mr. Sale is attempting to do.

      There is no irony whatsoever in the last line of “Ashli Babbitt”. It is a heart-felt question that Ms. Coats caught is “in it for the long haul”; nor were the first nine syllables ironic. They are, in fact, uncomfortable, for me to write, and perhaps for others to read. As to Shelley’s poem, it was his sonnet “England, 1819” that I used as a backdrop in my recent poem “America, 2019”. I am unaware of Yeats focus on “reality and justice”; but that is exactly why I wrote “Ashli Babbitt”, why a line that has come to me this week: “Sheer anarchy is loosed upon the World…”, and why I wrote Easter, 2016″ on the jihad killing of dozens of Easter Sunday church goers, mainly women and children, using Yeats’ poem as a backdrop.

      As to considering more on the Insurrection, of January 6, 2021, (which is what I call it myself), I have written a poem on that as well. I feel the need to put myself on record on these events.


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