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Olivia Kent Dec 2013
Crux Ansata.(Ankh)

Fruitful union.
A gift from the Gods from days long gone.
The days of Greece and Egypt.
From past a Present,
For eternal life of love was given.
Belt buckle of Isis.
A symbol of stability.
Bidding given of true love.
Amulet charming,
Magical magnetism.
Giving strength and health.
Eternal love,
Eternal life.
Never to be eternal wife.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
dark ways are falling
fallen angels
and the smoking embers
of unwritten samskaras
Your Luminous eye
pressed hot, searing against my soul
staring deep down
always
reading between my breaths
beloved
the pain of separation
unbearable cross
may nothing come
between
our
flaming violet lips
james nordlund Dec 2018
Transplanted to these '...fruited plains...', grandpa,
One of Gaia's fruits, what was his twinkle among
The countless stars? Here, millions have come
To stay, imbuing us with their place of origin,
Their souls dancing, flying, in a universal way.
For over 60 years Americans to be came through
Ellis Island, headed to who knows where West,
My grandfather, Uru, which means hero, a Fin,
One of three who left a concentration camp that
Fifteen thousand entered, did too, to NYC, NY.

Following freedom's beacon, its first light he saw,
The Statue of Liberties still unscorched torch, thanx
To Frederic Auguste Bartholdi, and the French. Of
Libertas, the Roman goddess of freedom and a
'...Tabula ansata, a tablet evoking the law, upon
Which is inscribed the date of the American
Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776.'
The broken chain of tyranny lies at her feet,
Upon a pedestal, wherein etched words are,
From Emma Lazurus' sonnet, 'The New Colossus',

Which may rise again, only if we embrace them:
'...Her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
'Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!' cries she
With silent lips. 'Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!'

Only 151 feet tall, she will ever stand taller, or
Be turned to dust with us, all of humanity and
Large mammals, as well as the Earth, tragic
Members of extinctions annals, if we don't stop
The permanent altering of weather cycles through
Overuse of fossil fuels, the degradation of the
Earth's orbit around the Sun. We can walk in
Nature's abundant balance again, humane beings.
Still, she gives hues to the vast canvas of what
The Big Apple, and its beautiful mosaics' art, can be.
I shine only because he, a Merchant Marine, did.
Thanx to Emma Lazurus' sonnet, 'The New Colossus', quoted above, Ancestors, those who unpaved the paths, immigrants, immigration advocacy, advocacy poetry, reality poetry, statue of liberty, Amerigo for this twig of  powtree
Joan Karcher Sep 2012
silent as the moon
stalking the streets
we are the night
we are life - life incarnated
a family
a family who met just months before
a new identity
pain vanishes into pleasure
a euphoria like no other
sharing our life force
to become one
for eternity
it is an honor,
to give my blood to you
and you to me
we do not do this lightly
and only selectively
but the dangerous thrill
is still there
a game of dominance
and acceptance
I bite your neck,
my acrylic fangs
break your skin easily
I claw my nails down your back
and watch the blood drip
my tongue trails along the cuts
your taste is coppery with salt,
blade dancing kiss
our tongues
trustfully pass the razor
back and forth
I take the razor from between my teeth
and slowly dig it into my arm
watching the blood bubble up
offering it to you -
a perfect gentleman,
never breaking eye contact
you savor my essence
then holding my hand
you gently kiss my knuckles

              high on the
   life blood of our existence


              crux ansata,
             the key of life





from the nyc scene, a decade ago

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