The New Reality Parody

The New Reality Parody
30 June 2015

Like the bronze giant of Greek fame,
With conquering legs astride the lands;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates stands
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is imprisoned lightening. Proclaim her name
As Mother of Elites. From her raised beacon-hand
Glows a world-wide warning; her wild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Look, ancient lands, at our pomp!” cries she,
Exuding attitude. “Keep your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses working for next-to free;
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the university graduates to me,
For them I lift my lamp by opportunity’s door!”


The New Colossus
Emma Lazarus, 1849 - 1887

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and 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!”