Statue of Labiarty

Like the brazen giant with a Greek frame

his conquering limbs slide into my hand

here at my perfume washed, twilight gates he lays

ready for this mighty woman’s touch, whose flame

is the imprisoned lightening, and her name

is Mother of Ectasy. From her begging hand

grabs mouth-wide welcome; her wild eyes command

the smooth harbor that twin bosoms frame

“Keep aching, man, and restore your rhythmic pump” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your eyes, psychotic

and your quivering ass, yearning to break me,

the wretched refuse of your teeming core

send your holocaust, temper-toss me.”

I lift my skirt, to reveal the golden door.

Published in: on November 19, 2008 at 5:25 pm  Comments (4)  
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4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. “send your holocaust, temper-toss me.” I love that line. it says so much.
    wow, Nora – this is a poem of epic proportions, and a strange and powerful lyricism.
    ( I meant to comment earlier but I have been mulling over it…)

  2. thank you! I had a random epiphany to rewrite the inscription from the statue of liberty. So the form is not mine to boast. It is merely the changing of words and meanings. Oh, but how I mean it! Careful, world, should I decide to rewrite the declaration of independence…

  3. …oh – you should!
    -I’m afraid I was not taight any of this at school – it was not the ideology of apartheid South Africa…
    but I love what you have done; inspired with the imagination of a woman : )

  4. Agreed with Crimson. Hot, politically-laced, but still consummate. That last line!

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