‘Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?’—W.B. Yeats


sickening the surreptitious poison
seething decades long, progress regressed
strides reversed, equality is frozen
by patriarchal fools who ‘know what’s best’
deafened to the earnest accusations
of innocents so easily oppressed
gather they, in secret consultation
seeking to exploit, for gain, the nation

slowly voices from the ash, defiant,
demanding recompense, proclaim, ‘me too’
legion, they are over being silenced
willing to face demons, armed with truth
exposing vile molesters, cads and tyrants
and they’re not backing down, this is a coup
apathy is never a solution
stir the masses, join the revolution


A two-octive Ottava Rima poem (abababcc, dededeff – Each line is of a 10 or 11 syllable count) for Jane Dougherty’s ‘A Month with Yeats – Day 16‘ poetry challenge based on the verse above from Yeats’ poem ‘He Mourns for the Change That Has Come Upon Him and Longs for the End of the World’

14 responses to “R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

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