Tesla’s Dream
Wireless power to unite the earth
Tesla dreamt, power freely transmitted
all over the earth, picked up by a simple
receiver
Electrical energy beamed to large
cities – even ships at sea, power
broadcast in a dramatic financial
revolution
Shifting the power and status of
many nations on earth – all because
the earth is alive with electric
vibrations
Acting as a giant conductor of
electric signals – Tesla wrote of
Transmitting Electric Energy sans
Wires
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poem by Margaret Alice
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Names of the Constellations
All visible stars contained
within eighty-eight Constellations
- the Author claimed
names that intrigue
my Wandering but Meeting-bound Mind:
the Tarantula Nebula is in Dorado, the Goldfish
Hydra, the Water Snake is the largest constellation
while Crux, the Southern Cross is the smallest one
– a word of explanation:
the stars in Constellation have no relations
only sharing proximity in the sky
as seen from earth -
the brightest star is called Sirius
Canis Major, the Great Dog
the brightest star, the shining Lucida
in Orion, the Hunter, Rigel is called
while the brightest star in Carina, the Ship’s Keel
is known as Canopus -
with the names of the Constellations
I might just write my Magnum Opus!
poem by Margaret Alice
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2010/01/10 Innovative And New
Started running since Friday, running from knowing
by reading Seth, several lives running concurrently
for many entities, aspects of soul
Running from knowing on Monday this week I am
back at work, a good place to be, given my col-
leagues, a nightmare of course
Given the way it is run by Human Resources trying
to force us to give account of every breath we take,
every gesture we make
Every thought that crosses our mind, for some it is
a piece of cake, for others, like me, the most scary
idea in the Multiverse, my thoughts
Need to be free, how would progress have taken
place if everybody where under the edict to think
the acceptable thought
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poem by Margaret Alice
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Shantaram 29/11/09
[pp.270-404]
Reached p.404, juxtaposition between love –
which always kills romance - and imprisonment
of the man called Lin, the author, he receives
a beating
I can look back with him, but in case of pain in
present tense, I can’t go on; the only pain I can
contemplate is my own, when another person
is suffering
It becomes too much – the woman he loves sud-
denly losing him, I can’t stand the feeling,
Lin Shantaram, Man Of Peace, author
of so many good deeds
Beat by police on page 404 – I can’t go on,
stopped to cry until I’m calm enough to be-
gin again, it hurts too much, give pain to
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poem by Margaret Alice
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Happiness Everlasting (Rev.)
The little mermaid died, the
price for prolonged life was
taking the life of her Prince,
the love of her life, watching
him murmuring the name of his
bride, she flung the death-knife
overboard, jumped into the sea,
ready to die
became ethereal, musical and
transparent, gained an immortal
soul through good deeds, endured
suffering in life, courage saved
her from the dead salt sea, made
a sprite of the air – an immortal
soul within three-hundred years…
How long will it take me to work
through life and reincarnations,
to live as an immortal, to share
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poem by Margaret Alice
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2011/04/27 Absurd Depression (Rev.)
Found an absurd side to depression, wanted to
resign because I suffocated, to run away from
myself and be dejected somewhere else, but
too disheartened to fill out a million forms
Bought a magic dish that worked before, evil
sweet stuff dieticians warn about, wonder of
wonders felt better – if for a moment, and my
mind feels fantastic when dark feelings lift
Covered the French class notebook that breaks
my spirit and collapses my mind, a new victory
over blackness within, a white and black design
to symbolise the contrast I see, the white-hot
happiness and pitch-dark depression caused by
horrible sounds killing rhythms and melodies that
live in my mind – the sweet voices that express
true rebellion against things I detest
poem by Margaret Alice
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A Melody In Eternity 4.29.2009
Without a new book to hold my mind and
focus my thoughts, I’m at a loose end to-
night; started singing my favourite songs
in intervals of thirds or sixes; delighted by
the vibration felt right through my being
I sometimes cry over the loss of song in
my life; I never dissolve into a song any-
more; still cherishing the melodies that
used to drive me to tears when I was
small – I SHALL become a song
A melody playing in eternity, my song shall
include all the notes from high soprano to
low bass, I shall feel the joy reverberate
through all of me until the only thing left
is the song - nothing else
Holds the same enchantment; to become
my favourite song, crying with the notes
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poem by Margaret Alice
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Family: Angel In Brown And Golden-Haired Fairy
Your childhood memories of the war-zone
in which you were all alone - your mother
a monster attacking you…
She once was an angel in brown protecting
a golden-haired fairy in the bad atmosphere
of their childhood home…
Then you met Monique - beautiful, happy and
Sweet, you were enchanted, you romanced her
but as years went by you discovered
The monster was living in you
you were attacking
Monique…
The life that you built all by yourself
started falling apart, all because the
monster of hostile aggression lived on in you…
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poem by Margaret Alice
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2010/06/02 Sun’s Bride
the kitchen amplifies its power as sun
gilds wooden cupboards with a patch of
gold, ice-cold tiles acquire a warming
balm but feet still bare beware, cold is
yet intense, left my bed to find its warmth
and stand refreshed, my heart rejoicing,
white wall tiles softly glow
the sun, my constant lover, ever faithful,
loyally returns - laughter brimming in his
brilliant eyes though clouds obscure him
for too long, he knows he’ll overcome –
I ADORE the sun, I’m Mayan by consent
they worshipped him like me
though I will not tear out hearts beating
from living victims as they would have
done, we share the same fascination of
sunshine and delight in the sun’s velvet
touch, I wish I could stay here forever
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poem by Margaret Alice
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Some Fairy Dust 25.08.2009
My guru says not to go
for quantum leaps, effect
changes incrementally; it
does not work for me, I’m
either deeply depressed
or totally joyous
After attending the most
boring meeting ever, an
all-time low, could not wait
for incremental joy, called
up my three-year-old self
to march to the library
Then we went to collect new
T-shirts, Cindy in pink so I
started singing “Let’s take a
drink, a drink, a drink, to Lily
the Pink, the Pink, the Pink
the saviour of the human race
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poem by Margaret Alice
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