Mould Lines The Way You Do
When I sing your praises and you sternly
admonish me saying you are not as good
a poet as I profess, I am glad - humility is
the greatest asset and only so will you
continue to learn and grow
You will have to take my praise in your
stride because I cannot stop effusing
about the way you write enticing lines,
it is a test of character as it is difficult to
keep calm when compliments
Keep flowing in - you first spoiled me by
seeing something in what I write and now
it is my turn to explain how the songs you
sing sway my head and make me wish to
clear my voice to sing
In the same beautiful key, to mould lines
the way you do until the final product is
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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In Heaven Also (Revised)
The worst thing about heaven is it only boasts
two world-class composers: Liszt and Elgar,
the best of the rest – Bach, Beethoven, Brahms
and Mozart apparently all went to hell:
I shall gladly join them there
Hope to meet Bizet and Strauss as well and that
some enchanting demon finally teaches me to
dance properly, preferably a waltz and a
wonderful tango – like the one Death danced
dramatically with Renate Flitworth
I hope Vivaldi with his regular beat and
Stravinsky with his musical themes in
single row explosions are in heaven
also where I shall not be – and never
need listen to again
“Good Omens” – Terry Pratchett
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Living Picture
If I am a living picture of
my soul, my poor soul is
ailing, how can eternal life
be represented by a tem-
porary physical vessel
It is degrading, demeaning
to make such a statement;
soul seems to be so much
bigger, better and powerful
than spirit and body
If my grumbling existence
and restlessness should be
the image of my soul within,
I see no chance of happiness
so I prefer another theory:
The body reflects ideas and
fantasies to be implemented
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Devil-Burn (Revised)
My chair's actually a skew-growing bar stool,
my left shoulder's aching moodily while my
hair's a mess - but the worst of these pests
is symptoms of left arm syndrome
Last year I had to get document based care
and ended up perched on this high chair,
which is falling apart with fires starting
to burn sharp pains up my left side
It takes all my self-control not to exclaim and
run about, feels like the devil is prodding me
with his glowing fork and I don't want to go
for more X-rays, better get help
Before it's too late, hunt for a new chair, do
exercises again, even change of posture helps
a bit but this devil-burn in my shoulder is still
a very worrying phenomenon…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Wilting Spirit Whispering (Revised)
I heed a spirit’s whisper wilting on
the wind, don’t fell my tree; in dark
of seated silence words fall as pebbles
noisomely – disturbing inner calm,
angering pointlessly
All are baulked with bated breath –
it feels as if the end is coming near
and blindly stifles life, I can’t create
a thing, your reading messages from
worldliness alive now interferes:
So aliens drive Africa in Volkswagen
Beetles, ancient Landrovers, make
a mess of cold emptiness, creating
static within the fearsome silence
already within, spurring turmoil
Scared – scared of tomorrow,
scared of increasing darkness
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Cicatrise
To heal and scar this way is burdensome too far
to bear alone in peace – narrow blades of fortune
don’t condone mistakes or random chance of fate
as fair or foul, or foiled in avid cut and thrust of
bare but venomous miscegeny; matched finesse
of strength’s vitality compares as fearless dash
or wears a penchant’s frown, whereas duplicity
equates au pair with rampant perfidy
So scars are worn a rhapsody – and fate a score
of music writ with liberal flair for air or string;
voices sing with equal verve in praise of fantasy,
twinge a nerve, raise a brow, there’s ample space
for sure again within, places yet to be amazed –
you can abjure your penance and be free
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Fast Fandango
Exercise, both the love and
scourge of my life, in foolish
bravado I ascended the million
steps to the Union Buildings -
nearly choked to death in the
attempt to defy gravity by
marching smartly
In the end I struggled up at
a sedate rate gasping for air,
all visions of glory gone, once
at the top I saw all the lunch-
time joggers clutching water
bottles passing, I took the
descending road
This time gravity made me
dance a fast fandango down
into the city - I think exercise
should be kept for going to the
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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CodeFinder
Sorry, no, thank you but no thank you,
I do not wish to purchase CodeFinder
Bible Code Software, I read books to
enrich my life with new possibilities -
to widen the mental horizon, not con-
cerned with degree of probability
I do not replicate experiments, leave
negative comments to anyone who
enjoys destroying anything they did
not learn about at school, I have no
desire to check the mathematicians
Those who enjoy shrinking the world
are free to inveigh against anything
without my having to join in fighting
them, I am just glad the imagination
is able to conjure so many new ideas
I only fear two things: boredom and
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Not Lonely Any More
I'm not alone any more - oh, I was lonely
earlier today - when I spoke and someone
ignored me, everybody but me getting ready
to go on a course, the wind blowing wildly and
I tried to clean the swimming pool
When I lay in front of the TV watching Top Gear,
the only show - besides cricket and rugby - ever
watched in this house, when I was tired and had
to look interested in life - but I'm not lonely any
more, not with Big Bang Theory
And That Seventies Show and recorded dancing
Shows - I'm not lonely any more - watching Kara
Tointon and Eliana dancing on stage, living the
dreams I did not allow my heroines
Kara Tointon - Strictly Come Dancing
Eliana - So You Think You Can Dance
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Divine Realm
When communication breaks down;
only plants in my garden remain friends
in whom I can confide when there is
no possible escape into a storybook
universe or the more electrifying and
divine holographic realm of elusive
quantum physics
I must read legislation, dates, bills
and acts which offer no thrills, courage
failing, patience tried and I am running
circles around the demon benchmark
text containing quotes from Royal
Decrees amended - and more
such-like legal terms
I must return to the lines comprising
the stilted fire of staccato text, words
dying in the small-font page while a
sympathic Mantovani bewails my
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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