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New World Colossus Deception—2015
(Apropos The Sonnet of Emma Lazarus)
In her brazened left hand she holds the tablet year
of her shore’s liberty;
And a raised right lights the weary way to the land
of the brave and free;
But today, blind eyes look out to the wretched skies
and tormenting seas
Where frothing waves and white clouds tease hopes
of fleeing refugees.
No longer are there waiting arms and undying love
for a roaming exiled family—
Greeted no longer with silent lips, but with vociferous voices
screaming no!
No, to…huddled masses…homeless, tempest-tossed…children
that are to be;
Though they dare—must be aware upon these precious shores,
is nowhere for them to go.
Their religiosity—washed with blood of the innocent and others,
has no place in this free land;
For them and theirs—is no way a true Puritan would ever lend
a helping hand
To welcome their tried tired yearning pregnant hopes—hopes
of a new life begun.
No! Hell no! There are those here still waiting—struggling for full
freedom to be won!
This is the land of the Pilgrim’s pride; land where past refugee’s
fleeing fathers and mothers died.
This land has only fought wars of peace; there is no place here
for the wretched refuse to abide.
