Friday, September 1, 2017

MARYEM FDHIL


MARYEM FDHIL

AGONY

.. and if I ever touched your ego twice,
Should I therefore plead guilty,
Or those who pronounced my emptiness innocent will shed blood and sugar.
.. and if my wholesomeness is at risk of that plague of yours,
Should no one care to cure – Should no one care to endure.
.. and those faces we know ugly,
we will never make use of our knowledge ,
for they would never meet time and greet its evil.
They will never age, they will never turn to ruins.
.. We, however,
Will meet the grandsires of these shameful souls we bear,
We are the mischief of Nature made into Man,
And as this we will make love with dust,
Give birth to dust,
And cheat on dust with dust.




SOUND OF EVERYTHING.

Paint me a wish on a velvet sky,
And let all our deleteries die
Once we are to the moon nigh
Set loose your reveries to fly

Blend your fears with the silverware
Hearts, and be bare,
Of those we said unfair
Only ebullience we will share.

Append allegories with fairytales
Heavens with what Cerberus bails
Treasure, in what lucifer fails
No more innocence in his serails.




HEREAFTER

Come meet the delicious pain
Where all the suffering wed
And how the bloods rain
Although it shouldn’t be shed

See how the dead ones recite
The seven deadly sins, inside
And how outside they bribe the gate
Would it open to the devilish of mate

All the loathsome eyes will see
The wrath of God, it will be
And come closer, it will say
Jump, at the edge of the bay

Sense the coldness of heat
You may hate, you won’t beat
On your Vexatio it will feed
Discarding your soul in a pleat.




DAYS OF HELL

Of all the miseries I long lived
That of the I, and that of the we
Against the perfume of felicity I sniffed
Which made me bow the knee
For the heaviness of pains to God I riffed
I sang, smeared and beefed
Endless trauma, it made me see
Drowned in holy sins and a martyrish gift
I grappled my time up, to be.





AMID FEAR.

Your miraculous shadow, I vowed
till the end of the scenes it showed
I pledge to the kings of the Round
Just how to your walks I bowed


Till the sun of Echo downed by Hera
And all the nymphs gossip the tears
“Zeus lust proved ephemera”
Heard the nefarious of ears.


Oh treasured sybil come near
Foretell the ladies of the Round
All the stellar rocks I sear
And make the moon spellbound.





Us, the dead

I heard you rushing down
As if you’d never come back
To the bed where I was left
And never care was shown

I pulled off the bedsheets round
Put on my least loved clothes
Followed your runnings around
Against what my little heart loathes

Am I near you, yet!
I dare not fight the night
This wooden door I bet
To be astray my sight

Gather the creatures I dread
They leave my morn out dead
Singing ” when Moon and Land wed
All the living shall ned!”

“Fear not the yellowish gaze”,
I muttered ;
“Of these hidden silhouettes”
Only now my wooden door matters
And in sweat my foot rets

Do all the angels I met
In the bible of so much cred
Reside only on the shred
Of time, when away you fled?

What is that! My lips shouted
Although my body was chained
By the horrible fates that haunted
My mind, poor and baned.

Alas! It’s our old wrecked home
I fought years to forget
How it reminds me of me alone
Left, like today’s bitter regret,

Show no more respect
To the walls that bled
My suffering, pain and shred
Apart my love-led.

Set the devilish window on fire
It prisoned the self I lugged
Stuffed and evil-sired
And with hated moles it was bugged!

This is where I used to sit for hours
Drawing houses, people and flowers
Rainbows would look like ours
As  with salty crystal tears I soured

“Burn it!” I said
With a voice sounded sad
“You did me bad!”
I cried out, repeating ballad.

MARYEM FDHIL

MARYEM FDHIL is an Tunisian young poet. She is currently  pursuing her M.A of Arts at the Faculty of Human and Social Sciences at Tunis. Her mother language is Arabic ( She also speaks English and French )


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