Redemption, if you will

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in the shade of splendid words
we hide our fears
& shed our guilt
defend a house of cards
we will

in the nook of sparkling phrase
we burn our lies
& blow our myth
obscure dishonest ways
we wish

in the hint of polished speech
we store our pain
& stash our doubt
prevent an open breach
we want

but in the eye of sparkling tinge
you find my hue
& touch my sooth
redeem eternal clinch
you shall

A somber winter’s tale

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Morrow calls the late sun to rise
to carry away the raw nights of ice

I failed the riches in bleakest of life
and buried the poorness in crustiest glaze

no pledge in faith
no want in love

and all the speeches remain the same

No musings
No pennies
No linings
No hope

some would have been
some would have lost
it’s sorrow to day
and hardship to night

(In the forge of the earth,
a  primrose may know)

Idle Curse of a Pretentious Broad

IMG_0105Poison seeping from my bones
dripping into convenient veins
beguiling stomach, heart and brain
till dust and rust are left to call

No hunger nor ache
no sickness nor chain

I have a roof and people to love
a work to pursue, a talent to hug
my mind is not shut
my body not bent

There should be no poison
to savage my soul

Luxury problems,
vanity fair,
when I should be dancing
like Sundays in May

Sculpture © A.Tallil

Angels and Demons

women attending disaster preparedness training3At times I lose track
Of my demons and angels alike
(Not even lights onshore blinking
Luring me through a breathless blindness
When all is swallowed
And the heart becomes a stranger
To its body)

Not die yet.

Come demons, come
holar me back
chase me forward
make me run from you
onto shore again.

But the angels – ah – the angels!
If they’d come back;
I’d be flying.