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‘Fallible’ and other poems by Elryn Westerfield

By: Elryn Westerfield


I am fallible,

I am my musings, imitations,

I am an imposter,

I hand out my lily Lies,
As plucked petals of fiction,
Not to deceive
To swindle or misinform – but…
To bare myself to others:

What counts is
Where you look – and how,

For truth’s


Grain of truth

Remember Blake’s
grain of sand
while walking
and waking
through the world!

It’s in the snowflake, feather,
and ephemeral flame;

in each breath, blossom,
each teardrop and blink of an eye.

With each Lie
we shatter
the world,
letting litter
stream down like acid,

corroding our memories
of the sacred substance
within the divisions
that constitutes a world,
no matter how infinitesimal.



A little girl when asked to
Describe a head… said,
“It’s a safe for the things inside.”

How we squander those
“Things inside,” often leaving
The safe exposed, unlocked.

Our senses neglected,
Prone and bared to abuse,
Left deaf, dumb, and drugged.

Keep your head up:
A secure safe, impossible to crack,
But ready to open and serve
The needs of the world.



It starts with a reflection
into which we stare,
knowing it’s a mirror image
that can relate something
of who we are.

It cannot end there,
in case it turns into a smug
Mind-numbing gaze,
or elicits self-destructive loathing
that shrivels our surroundings.

Slice through the surface image
to the in-divine-duality
that rides through life on
always charging changing steeds
till the life processional ends up whole.

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