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Blue Light Bulbs and a Bottle of Bleach and The Incandescent Must Win -part 2

“Deep, deep, deep. Listen and hear our faint gait. Sanitation, fluorescent lights, and a PC pillow for smother. Agree! Agree! Atone! Suck it in and suff-o-cate. White-ness. Black. Ev’ry creed, faith, and color. Listen to Nanny State and call her your mother.” A wilting flower and grass that’s mowed Are ever learning why the wilt and why the harm Innovation, creativity, and where Americana once flowed Abandoned by the Deep as “fly over” and robbed and made empty the house and the farm Nude, nude hush in the cellar and the hand can’t hold the gavel “Trade with China, take arms to China. In Syria sustain the war. Rude, rude, rude! Abuse of power and a ban on travel.” Rightful tariffs to the farmers and the market still tends to soar “Bully the one we call a bully or brute. A triggered, flying milkshake will save a safe space. ‘You get out and make a crowd!’ You fight! You punch! -- You loot! And if you see his son about, spit in his face and invade the place.” Knowledge of good and evil, and the tree from which it sprang Covet, covet, corrupt in Kiev; greed was found a-Bidden An Arkansas mansion mem’ry and sight on the oval did haunt and did pang An outsider, and drainage of septic forbidden “The farmers don’t want handouts or charity.” But past year’s labor sets this year’s price And The Salt of the Earth today will have clarity The cream off the barrel of tariffs is their due, and the tycoon’s not calling it “nice” “I’ll still call you a hater. You deplorable vulture! Because the map in November robbed us our due!” It’s not 'the other' we hate; it’s your stainless-steal culture You polled the what, -- (here a hint and a Midwestern clue) you owned the what, but Deep, my dear, you forgot about us and left sour the Who. Warm, warm, yellow warm incandescent nourishes Blue, blue, sterile, starving, hopeless erie --essence Nanny off the hitch and hands uncuffed --a dirt road gives and flourishes With the death of equity and the light of equality. And the tapestry shall dawn irid--escence The long bulb dies along the edges and fringes Clinical, global culture to the bin The gate has fallen off its rusted hinges And the incandescent will win.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 1/19/2020 3:16:00 PM
Blessings are always welcome.;0)
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Date: 1/18/2020 9:23:00 AM
I like that you don’t write like anyone else. You have style and skills. Blessings Rick. I enjoyed the sequel.
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Wren-Ingalls Avatar
J.R. Wren-Ingalls
Date: 1/19/2020 1:53:00 PM
Thank you Rick for all the commentary on my poetry! God bless you, and have a great day!
Date: 12/31/2019 1:01:00 PM
Those last two lines - write (oops I mean right) on.
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J.R. Wren-Ingalls
Date: 1/1/2020 6:33:00 PM
Glad you liked it, Caren!
Date: 12/22/2019 2:29:00 PM
Wow--a visitation, bold where time seems to age with hesitation. Powerful. Reminds me of the Prophets. But in a more contemporary, and accessible, kind of way. And thanks for your interest and comment as well. GeraldOliver
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J.R. Wren-Ingalls
Date: 12/22/2019 6:42:00 PM
Love the dialogue, Gerald! You are a great artist!