Outcast Within
Bleeding away forced confessions
And unheard truths
With strabismus eyes
I see Clarity
Dressed in slits from
Morning’s curtain
Devoured by the bitter groans
Of darkness fed despair
I watch the serfs
Tortuous and mind washed
Stone the window
Branding Tears upon my heart
Secreted away
A moat of hope
Remains
~~~~~~~~~~
©Angela Trumble 2012 A Literary Artist’s Music
The Pink Thereafter
Sea-kissed mornings brimming with ballooning reflections magnify a twisted sanguine complexion; enhanced scars exhibiting years of climatic change peek shyly from beneath the shedding layers. Whispering, a soft breeze dances to the repetitive songs of the chickadee—black caps waltzing in perfect unison. “Private” markers adorning man-made perfection heighten loneliness within; as oily straitjackets confining pages of imagination— lay dripping. Abandoned, a mechanical tail sways jerkily from beneath the window sill; yearning eyes scan the horizon— broken lungs burning with desire. Pink ribbons clutching breastless hearts—race for a cure.
What mysteries lay behind the guarded gates, as an angel sits—peacefully waiting?
© Angela Trumble 2012 A Literary Artist’s Music
Small-town shadows sprawling moonlit streets, abandoned structures jutting awkwardly in disrepair. Staring into distant space a ponderous silence erupts with passing screams. Foul smelling bodies treading liquid sidewalks weave tirelessly through obscure gateways, leaving grainy casts of hardened souls. Blurry images gargling poisonous phlegm huddle grudgingly in wind-swept corners of obscenity. Assaulting eyes dart nervously, paralyzed hearts pounding with intoxication. Reluctantly, a depository of fading thoughts lies faceless in a battered tomb.
© Angela Trumble 2011 A Literary Artist’s Music
