Slept in yonder
The clock is central to marks
In time and being
Rarities on radio
Clasp upper lip
Clip the issue
Myths and fancies
Not in me
Icons and blights
Fighting good fights.
Sweet as that tunnel
nexus for light.
The gesture in tow
Games throw
Points glide
Myths and fancies
Not in me
Icons and blights
Me and the fight.
Goodnight.
- By Laila Ali Haid
Watching that neo-emergence of humankind,
The timing to England's rail tracks,
Books stead on oaths,
Mothers, I wrote the notice
To say starved are we, Muhammad's youths,
Entreat to heckling mercy,
A return to the mighty and mythical.
Christ, I love you,
Utilize hammers to anoint the point
Muhammad sewing
mercies in legacies.
Until that angel frames our happenstances.
Without the marshes!
Baptise
The world John,
Until nature ascends.
- By Laila Ali Haid
As I witnessed afterglow
Underpinning the sky drama
The Psalms, one Quran
shone on tears of doubt
Overdue carcasses in crashing time
the cascade of shade
and whimsy
on King David's throne
Christology's wreath
encircling Makkah
pirouette on mercy
leaking heaven -
"traditional ecstasy".
-By Laila Ali Haid
Sawing off dexterities
Sprightly living curdles
Inaction in DWP steeples
Curtly in space
Sad no passion
Pen to face
To color think
Green float
Cushion arm
Appeal to Poe
Cry scaling
Balance wanton
And passive.
- By Laila Ali Haid
Hatred gone past noon
Universally incredible to you
News in flames
Believin' smoke death
The scratch pen on the song
route again
Poor line
Sick queue
In-debt entrenched
Discourse like Locke
Palace scholar
Sore-back coins
Critical theory
Shoot saturated
cooking oil fat
DWP in the golden capital
Blaspheme
Hot lies
Thus, kept warm for the winter.
- By Laila Ali Haid
Non-stop glory
Shining tears
Regret sweet forlorn
Ring of fortitude
Down the heavenly-cast river
Celebrations for conquest
Chapter again
We come undertowing,
A nation chiming.
Glory as we turn
into the light.
~
Epiphany undercurrent
Unveiled green curtain
Blessed be He,
The Owner of i.
- By Laila Ali Haid
“ Were the flames of Egypt the call, or was the Bush itself the light?” - By Laila Ali Haid
