(real story)

 

Smile at me and I shall reply

With a smile or a humble grin

But you stay numb I wonder why

You hold so high your chin!

You are a lady just like me

Your femininity I wish not steal

Your stillness is the worst that can be,

For your arrogance it does reveal

Why would you not look at me?

Why stand like cold cold steel?

 

But hell, why am I to care!

Your wall is beyond my reach

So if you cannot learn to play fair

Your Highness I do beseech

And plead you to hide or seek

Assistance from a pro

For lunacy in your frozen garden

Did long blossom and grow.

 

Angelique      April 16 2011

My Maggie gazes towards the light… (That is the thought I had when I saw her for the first time)

In discrete and shy fashion she delves

To absorb the human plight;

Colorful are the schemes,

Enchanted are the dreams-

She sketches in the fathomless night;

 

My Maggie initiates the walk

With a murmur or a softly-engaged talk

Her voice speaks in her act

With the sharpest wit and tact

She pulls, tears, and breaks the norm

Never to subside nor to conform-

To the rules of ice and trendy dust

Never falters to be fair and just;

 

With passion my Maggie strives her day

In steady steps she strolls her way

Her feet anchored in rigid ground

Her feelings noble and exceedingly profound

She out-lives her vision in a silent cry

Beyond the contours of the endless sky…

 

Happy Birthday Maggie dear,

May your life be merry and ‘oozing’with cheer.

 

Angelique Fallah,

 

May 6, 2011; celebrating Maggie’s birthday with Maggie, in my mind and heart. Sharing Maggie’s feelings at the moment she reads this.

I am unborn,

Like history lost in time

Like a lie yet untold

I walk, I talk, I drive the way

Possessed, obsessed by a recurrent urge to cry;

In my eyes one vision prevails

One fantasy undefined:

A blast of cold grief

Takes over the stage of an existence deemed futile..

Torrents of rain…in the black eye

The urge to cry…

Cry for the people I miss

Whose laughter lingers in the corridors and empty rooms of the mind

Cry for the people in solitude,

Merging with their craving for a tender heart

Cry for people in the street,

Young, ageless, bold, faceless,

Cry for the sick and old with no hand to hold

Left in some hall to host the eternal light

Cry for the moment missed , for the words unspoken

For the child deprived of care,

For the mother whose heart is broken;

Cry for no reason, just cry to free the soul

Anger, hatred, treason…my tears would wash it all

If only I could cry.

 

Angelique Fallah,        April 13, 2011

 

I am Knot!

coiled

tangled

in essence

of joy

and chaste

laughter

of childhood

in leisure

with pleasure

recoiling

the playful and meek

deceit …

 

I am Knot!

Try not to bind me

With words

Of hideousness

Tainted

Painted

In fainted

Letters

of sinful

Lust

Lost in pages

Of love

Proclaimed

 

I am Knot!

Dismantled,

Never can you

shatter

my peace!

At your repulsive shores

My oars rejoice

Winding

Streaming

cracking

Your binding chains…

 

I am Knot!

Do not tempt

my tempered heart

and sanity!

I am born today

I was born before time

Believe it or not…

I was meant to be

A knot…

In your

twisted

way…

 

Angelique Fallah

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

...As for the child,

Thrown into this world

Into the cold arms of fate

Unwrapped, exposed

Fragile, disposed

To the power of disgrace

Ruling over the seas and earth

From the moment of his birth

Turned a man, a mighty ace.

The ace has not a face

Nor a name to recall

Just a high chair to displace

And await the ultimate fall;

The father was all the same

Ruling over ash and sand

His father too hadn’t a name

Just an arm and a brutal hand…

To punch, to strike and aim a gun

To puncture the innocent dream,

History in time shall redeem

The acts of the father to the son.

 

Angelique Fallah                       April 15, 2011

If you are born before time/ waiting for your prime/ hit the road now Dexter/ live it up to the core/ you’ll never be sure/ what is it that you’re after/ sing the common melody/ of mother nature in a dance/ drowned in temptation/ juggled like a ball/ in the hands of salvation/ from foreigners and locals/ sinners and immortals/ sunk into fame/who are you to blame? Puppet on the show/ your mind ceased to grow/ doped by the bleach/ of the meticulous speech/ delivered by a dork/ in old and new York/ groomed with sensation/ lifting up the mask/ is such a weary task/ for Lebanese to endure/both poor and rich/ await your revelation/ beat up your chest/ and feel the pulsation/ thumping the request/ of an independent nation/ the red hot smirk/ of the innocent jerk/ in folly or in sane/ in anxious degradation/ choking up the pain/ all lost in vain/ an elegant inflation/ the pompous and the meek/ the conniving and the sleek/ marching in descent/ with shameless desolation/ your mirror on the wall/smashed in/ crashed in/falling into pieces/crooked like a tree/standing in the storm/ never to conform/to fatal resignation.

 

Angelique Fallah

Monday, November 28, 2011

What shall I write on your wall?

So many stories of childhood follies, grand and small

My words cannot my love convey

So I shall offer you my heart today;

If you take it,

Paint your life in its core

Enclose your laughter and your pain

Pour in your morning dews

And seal it with your summer rain;

Let it beat your pulse

And breathe your scent;

Then send it back to my shores

An immaculate replication of your being

A song flooded in vernal breeze

To bear along the way

in reminiscence of your birth day.

 

Angelique Fallah.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011