Shape-Change
A conspiracy of mites, dust and allergy makes life
a misery – I am either very happy outside wearing
magical sandals or sitting in the depths of despair
in an air-conditioned office where I shape-change
into Quasimodo, hunchback, gnarled fingers, warts –
oh wait, that’s witches, I also become the Gingerbread
Witch of Hansel and Gretel, it’s why I identify with Alice
in Wonderland, eating anything marked ‘eat me’
breathing pollen, house-mites and dust-laden air
changes me from hour to hour, I can only be a
dancing fairy outside – any building changes me
into a variety of horror story characters - though
I don’t mind being a vampire or witch as long as
I can fly, but changing into Quasimodo
makes me want to cry …
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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A Small Glass Of Champagne
You atoned so sweetly, prepared a fun meal,
hamburgers with salad and cheese, ah, Mein
Herr Marquis, you are sweet, dancing around
in the kitchen, serving everyone - everything
placed on the griddle, kids happy, all forgiven
How could I even have doubted that you would
come around - Sean Connery blew up the evil
Fatima Blush - this is a fantastic evening, no
more complaints, a small glass of champagne
to celebrate all these peace offerings
Tomorrow Michelle from Merryhell will send me
a book by Sir Terry Pratchett - life is perfect -
I'm nearing the end of my small-scale irrigation
document, James Bond is blowing up ancient
stone temples, ah, Mein Herr Marquis
We shall have some music - Ah, wie ruhrt mich
dies… [Die Fledermaus]
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Face And Dismantle Hostilities
A fire hazard, exclaimed the fire chief,
this marquee is overflowing, too many
people, should a fire break out we can-
not evacuate everybody, there would
be a stampede - stop delegates from
entering
I am the sentinel ushering approaching
stragglers away - But I'm a speaker - said
the next delegate, a local VIP, a Casanova
in shiny suit and shinier smile insisted on
entering also, a TV crew descending en
masse
A photographer of celebrities, several
reporters and a radio announcer - It's
okay - sighed the venue manager - you
tried your best, let them in, if they are
willing to face the risk, who are we to
force
[...] Read more
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Shapley Supercluster
Found a shapely theory: The Seven Samurai’s
Great Attractor was replaced by the more
massive Shapley Supercluster
In 2005 the X ray CIZA survey, Clusters in the Zone
of Avoidance, revealed the Milky Way is not drawn
towards the Great Attractor
But to a more massive region behind it, The Shapley
Supercluster, four times the distance to the Great
Attractor,500 million light-years away
The CIZA team demoted the Samurai’s Great
Attractor to only a tenth of the mass
originally estimated
I feel quite deflated, though Shaply Super
is shapely enough in theory…
[...] Read more
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Just Too Much
A discussion of politics and I fall asleep, voices
droning about boring facts - after I had my say
about Greece and destitute refugees in the Cote
d’Ivoire, we watch another documentary about
solar power to save us from nuclear disaster
I black out, a solicitous colleague shakes me awake
I wriggle in my seat; next week, our enthusiastic
teacher says, each must do a speech on South
African politics discussing the party of their choice
in detail – I give up, resigned I decide
I cannot attend this class, I shall completely lose
my mind in the boredom of this, will have to flee
the subject of politics as it drives me insane, the
stink of inefficient states and the self-serving
politicians defrauding their own people
Is just too much…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Temper Like Lightning
Some people are like angels - but do not tell
them so, they want to be big and bluff, shouting
at you like the Billy Goats Gruff, they seem to be
intimidating and timid souls run off while
underneath beats a heart of gold
Nobody is allowed to cosset them, they are tough,
any overpowering kindness and they run away while
wagging an accusing finger at you, you have to be
friendly without seeming to, offer friendship without
giving the game away, nobody allowed
To see the heart beating, it is all muscle and brawn,
admonishing and words like Stay Strong, Don’t Put
A Foot Wrong; since I never put a foot right, it is
difficult to get on, yet for all their thunder and
blighting and a temper like lightning
Their presence shines like a light
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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My Idea Of Bliss
Explained to my colleague my idea of bliss, giving
up meat, finding the taste revolting, eating butter
on rye crackerbread and drinking milk powder in
coffee - she frowned and told me this would be
fattening, I would grow as round as the earth
Yet before doing this I ate the right food on my
husband's safe food list and had to watch my
widening girth; now I don't fear the enemy in
butter and milk, as long as I have no hunger
pains to plague me all day, no headaches
No allergy symptoms at play, I am content to
leave the meat on my plate, if turning into a
vegetarian is the next step in healing from
aches and pains, I shall rejoice, eating
creatures with higher consciousness
Just seems so wrong - I'm holding thumbs
this healing goes on…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Face Concealed Under My Hat (Revised)
I waltz into the office after lunch, brag about my
new Mafia hat which makes me look like a rich widow
- my colleagues looked askance, said Rich Widow -
you hope; I amended it to The Merry Widow - Franz
Lehar's operetta, I can see me on stage singing,
face concealed under the brim - but receiving
less enthusiastic response from a working crowd
I hung it on a hatstand to look impressive among
silver chains, xmas decorations already finding
their way there and a white scarf with silver
glitter; going home I took it with me to look
again at the toy in my hands - not wishing my
realistic family to burst my bubble too soon,
I hid the hat, as yet a game too new
To have shattered, a dream I'll treasure until
ready to let go of what it means to me…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Faith Overpowering Love
Unfortunately the author entertaining with her Gothic vampire
horror reached a point where the hero and his evil counterpart
became inexorably and inextricably entwined - just like Harry
Potter and Voldemort - the ending became predictable and
the sensationalism, always part of a melodramatic blowing
up of every scene while delighting in repetitions
Became a turning point for me, with the hero's life as counter-
weight and the evil demon entering him, the story poised in a
delicate balance between the dramatic and the bizarre, crossed
the line, the overpowering descriptive adjectives and repetitions
of the same phrases overbalanced the scale on the wrong side,
though I shall remember the author's beautiful idea:
- Faith is an overpowering Love -
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Dreams Coming True
Finally one of my dreams is coming
true: to be a robot, impervious, calm
undisturbed, unemotional, cool, able
to sit in one position all day long and
do just one thing - translating
No feeling response to anything as
there is no noradrenaline, no fight
or flight response - I always took
flight now almost nothing evokes
a reaction, a drug from heaven
I always wished to sit quietly like
my colleagues, do my work without
wondering about the meaning of life
or the reason for being, all feedback
To my brain interrupted, so the little
alien in my head is unaware of what's
going on and gets a rest - what bliss -
[...] Read more
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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