lofty ideals, less breath for all
echoes of past -isms elicit
mocking denunciations, paid-off politics
inclusiveness surrounded by barbed wire
squeezed out, breath-less
consumers pretend to give thanks,
stash hopes under bed, display
fears in colored strings
lights flash keep-away
huddled masses breathe last
ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin elicit- ‘drawn out by trickery or magic,’ from the verb elicere, from e- (variant of ex-)‘out’ + lacere ‘entice, deceive.’
The Daily Post prompt
The d’Verse Poetry prompt in Quadrille form of 44-words.
Powerhouse of sharp imagery. Display fears in colored strings got me hard. A wonderful and foreboding poem, Brian. I’m afraid this is what we are in for.
Wow, that is interesting, when my grandmother was alive she hid a little spending money under her mattress. She also kept some in an old coffee can. Far from 3.7 million.
There Are More Poets than Stars in the Firmament 
a very imaginative poem with a pleasing meter and some marvellous imagery
“consumers pretend to give thanks,
stash hopes under bed”
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Thanks Laura, as soon as I read the origin of ‘elicit’ I knew what I wanted to convey.
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Powerhouse of sharp imagery. Display fears in colored strings got me hard. A wonderful and foreboding poem, Brian. I’m afraid this is what we are in for.
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This too shall pass.
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Hopefully soon.
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powerful vision.
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I wish I didn’t have to ‘see’ this.
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This gave me the shivers… sounds like we are getting what we asked for
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And so history marches on in hobnailed boots.
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I hope the people will prove this wrong…. I hope
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I do to, hope against hope.
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Stashing hope under the bed and maybe some cash as the world is changing and we will need a bit of hope in the years to come.
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Read an article today about a man in France that inherited a relative’s estate and found $3.7 million worth of gold stashed in various places.
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Wow, that is interesting, when my grandmother was alive she hid a little spending money under her mattress. She also kept some in an old coffee can. Far from 3.7 million.
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So very clever and realistic. This struck me:
consumers pretend to give thanks,
stash hopes under bed
timely today as the Dow breaks 19K. Crazy!
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The stash can be so many things, but in the context of the poem, it’s the emotions and prayers.
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The “echoes of past – isms” scare me the most, the idea of humanity stepping backwards.
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There are always those that claim the past is better when it never was.
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A gloomy prospect!
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Doom and gloom and credit cards.
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