Tine, Martine
You work though broken
To bring relief to others
You fix’d benches, built houses
To provide for others your lack
You gave up all knowledge
To instruct your siblings
Still broken you worked on
Until at long last energy failed
Yet you remain a monument
A symbol of untiring strength
For giving, thank you
Written in 2014
MBM-Tine Brice
You told me you love me
these overused words which I had grown so accustomed to has now left me in confusion and speechlessly remote of its true meaning
My heart now carries a vacancy symbol
refusing to let anyone in
meanwhile my mind reflect on the matter with utmost caution
‘Tis accurate that a broken heart
mends with time but one seldom
remembers that the offended mind
forgets rarely the incident which parted the whole
Written in 1989
MBM-Tine Brice
I see your smiling face everytime I close my eyes
Then I open my eyes and you’re not there.
I sense the smell of your sweet cologne
And admire foolishly the reflection
I hear your voice calling me in my dreams
Then I awake so broken-hearted
I feel the touch of your embrace
And long to have you near
The journey of our love had just begun
Already it altered from red to dun
We didn’t intend to let it escape
Our concept was but to give it shape
Although we trusted our leading path
It deceived our minds direct to death
The decisions made were surely best
Perhaps we’ll assemble at a quest
Written in 1988
MBM-Tine Brice
I drank of thy bitter-sweet cup, and
I reach for heaven with broken-wings
I staggered beneath the Hills of Golgotha
With piercing lips and fiery eyes thou prepareth thy feast of which am I the main attraction?
I clung to the bed-side with trembling devotion
Thou appeareth before me in death, mister death and requesteth that I be controlled by thy fanciful desires
I reached for heaven with broken-wings
Is’t body not God’s temple of which
No man should intervene?
Thou art but man to me, not spirit, not idea,
not soul, not life, not beauty, merely a man-a weakling
Thou thirst for black salvation
The price to pay was done long ago
Today, the wind blows heavily
Not to excite a passage but to
Destroy devilish fevers which have risen, as
The chariot on the limp approaches
I Reached-Heaven With Broken-Wings
Written in 1990s
MBM-Tine Brice
Outcast among the rest,
Your beauty astounds me,
Bearing scars as a thousand soldiers
Wounded in battle at gunpoint.
Deepest lesions, harshest blows
Bitterest sores, excruciating madness
In a whirlpool of pain and despair
Dwells you, swimming in the pit of nothingness in a vegetative state.
You aim high still with tainted skin,
Nothing to attract the eyes,
But your beauty astounds me.
In a whirlpool of pain and despair
There dwells you in the pit of nothingness.
Broken birthright heir, Beautiful Black Sheep
Wounded in battle at gunpoint,
Deep is the lesions, harsh is the blows
Bitter the sores, excruciating madness.
Yet you cling to Hope’s hem
Never letting go of the need to exist.
You Are Beautiful, Black Sheep!
Written 07-15-2013
MBM-Tine Brice
“Human beings created in God’s image and likeness are similar to angels with broken wings reaching for heaven’s eternity after having attained salvation through the Nazarene Christ!”
MBM-Tine Brice
Martine Brice 