by Vikki Owens
Climbs the tower, to the parapets,
to a window there, made of cold stone,
a jezebel, the Jezebel lets down her hair
lets the wind speak to her,
lets the wind wail inside of her.
Chased by men with their ego's and broad shoulders,
a woman who has a body
is a body alone
A jezebel will give it willingly, what they would take
the Jezebel runs away from them, a Queen dethroned,
thrown from the balcony,
for having fine hands,
hair made of shadow
and alabaster skin,
the men who would take her, took her
to the overlook...
such a wicked woman to have seduced them so,
to have made them want her so,
to see if she's a witch, bewitched them, let her go
above the palace cliffs to the dogs below
and see if she floats,
turns to petals and drifts away,
or sinks into the ground
to be torn apart by Labradors and Dobermans
and no trace of her be ever found.
Posted on 03/04/2005
Copyright © 2022 Vikki Owens
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Nikki Benson on 04/28/05 at 04:45 PM|
I had a hard time trying to figure out if you were using Jezebel as a metaphor or if you were trying to relate the story because there perhaps was a little of both in there. Or perhaps the facts that you did put in you were using as a metaphor. In any event i thought it was in interesting read.