Love is the drug.

adrift upon the four winds,
were your romantic evasive words,
by which you immersed
the grazing herds,
into empty symbolism and myth.
I was gassed to death
by cupid's baby breath
any sensibility suffocated by
plastic consumerist lullabies.
I let passion claim our souls
in return for a good ending -
and drawn-in roles.


-  By Laila Ali Haid

Dying to confuse

dying to confuse

lying, and so obtuse 

burnt on a whisper of praise 

leaving me on a smoked daze.

This pathology cannot be explained,

it lies within the maze

of psycho-fancies and spineless interpretations,

they will never understand,

as you make depression your brand,

that you live on imitation --

isn't that what life essentially is?

I must say

the ponderous will never avert, 

the day of the darkest lay --

your grave. 

 

- By Laila Ali Haid

faint black heart

a faint black heart,
submerged by the dunya,
soaked in poison by,
the most evil of darts,
blocked from this life and the afterlife.
She's letting out another weary
burdened sigh
which subtly notifies,
my wary nervous system,
that I dive for the dimply lit
covers of my resting
and ignore the future daylight sky


- By Laila Ali Haid

Picture Perfect

A toothpaste smile and a firm handshake for tomorrow. Suited and booted for an honest days desk life.

The sister receives a fake opportunity to kill and struggle for her family. With it she can bring home the bread as well as yesterday's mutton.

No money to make money, honey, so we're stuck in the proverbial blissful abyss of empty bellies and overdrafts for days.

Why should I join the fishing boat to inner London's inner turmoil for a shiny Queen Elizabeth penny, gold in pocket but the pocket is full of holes.

Mama, sew me and my back pocket together again.

- By Laila Ali Haid

Spring Time Sadness

neutral upsets her
the nautical makes one exert
too much pressure,
and the fey just fades on her.
don't ask about spring
the summer strangles with the oppression of heat,
- naturally she takes her cover in the winter
ploughing through the snow in stacked heels
the diva of the cold nights
hibernates through life's springs,
spring reminds her of wishful thinking and the movie Amelie,
there's just no life it brings.

- By Laila Ali Haid

Glass Heart

the green bottle shards, throttle
my happy heart and adoring face
as we court courteously in the courtyards
tartly, the queen of swords,
covetous
cares not a green speck on the earth
for our game of loves and thrones,
no aces in our decks
no last breath
no final plea
I die, not seen.


- By Laila Ali Haid

Sin of Pride

Temporarily yoked,
by a mortal love
darting toward your leather jacket
tearing open
your puffed heart
pierced, now congealed in bloody pride
and jingoistic sighs.

- By Laila Ali Haid