Face My Nemesis
Amid the office noise I am learning @
is called ‘arobase' - a quarter to three is
trois heures moins le quart, three minus a
quarter - enough to shut my brain down,
numbers have a deadly impact on me
Stop all synapses firing at once, I turn
into a dunce, stare vacantly at pages
of information I can't understand, why
should life be thus, as a mathematical
genius I could have been rich
In a universe that can be described in a
world famous mathematical equation
where E is energy, m mass, c the
speed of light, whatever it means -
everything is relative
And I must face my nemesis, numbers
expressed in French in a minefield of
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Sweet Acronyms (Revised)
One of the best with lovely meanings is
OMD: right there all rational thought is
gone, Oh My Darling, you are so sweet
she says and he replies - Oh My Damn -
like Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind,
Off My Desk! A dreamy secretary orders
oily office pest, Oh My Dragon, he replies,
Secretary sighs - One More Day, she's met
someone special to date through the great
Online Membership Database
Little knowing it might get her killed in a
dazed haste; the stranger has planned
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark while
Ozark Mountain Daredevils strut their
remarkable stuff -
Then there's me: Oh My Damn, the day's all
but done - I've dreamed it away in a stream
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Melodies Without Sound (Revised)
The first time I was asked for my ideal I said To
become Faust and learn everything there is; by
dramatic phrasing I meant being a student for-
ever- she derisively replied, Get real child, what
a pretentious ideal - I was deeply mortified
Studied philosophy, science, quantum physics and
relativism, wondered about astronomy; astrology
explained the characters we deal with in life; read
everything that evoked my curiosity, unsure where
the quest would lead - the joy of doing it an end in
itself - and while stimulating discussion is limited
I write to clarify emotional problems, practise the
art of expression and learn to use sonorous words
to create melodies without sound, learning from
the poet I most admire because - HIS poetry
sings at all times
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Tether My Free-Wheeling Mind
Finally finished reading The Valley
Of Fear - I freaked out, ran shouting
through the house: Sherlock Holmes
is the best, once again, history of early
America, Pinkerton Men, lawlessness,
Arthur Conan Doyle changing me into
a convert for law and order
Helped me to cross the border between
wishing for freedom and being responsible,
now I really have nothing else to read, to-
morrow I must go to the library or die in
agony and sorrow, being without mental
stimulation would turn me into the devil
himself, breathing fire and brimstone
A whirling dervish of impatience to get
my hands on something that will tether
my free-wheeling mind…
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Count Yourself Lucky
Every time you frown when I speak and
stop me summarily - I get angry - then
remember the formula to stop my self-
righteous indignation escalating:
Reminding myself I am guilty of doing the
same thing, I also refuse to listen when
you wax boring, we learn not to mention
things we don't want to be hurt about
I also learn to say no when you ask me
to do a thing I heartily detest - your cold
approach teaches to be happy refusing
favours when I feel quite obstinate
After exposure to your caustic refusals
to listen to me! (Can it so bad to listen
to my explanation of Silent Night and
a fiery redhead being unfaithful?
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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As Many Illusions… (Revised)
A perfect evening feeding rainbow-coloured
beads to eyes ravenous for beauty, a favourite
movie, callous girl who cries on family loss -
her mom especially - fights to get them back,
along with her I too had fervent tears
Washing dishes after a fabulous meal to chansons
française - musique folklorique pour enfants:
Brave Marin and Mam'selle Angèle - long
thought lost - feeling passionate and oh
so very young again
Music still retains its charm after so many years
I see delightedly; I thought increasing age inured
me to the joys of youth, not true - small things
relished when young still fill my heart
with wonderment, especially
If I allow recall to go right back to those moments
of magic when I tried to create as many illusions
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Driving To Work (Revised)
Took a scenic route to look at jacarandas
in bloom - sadly their purple was stripped
by last night's rain, stuck behind a slow-
moving police van, no chance to play Grand
Prix again
Next time I'll keep to the highway, people
claim they see deer and giraffes in the
sanctuary next to the road, I would love
to see any but am always racing - it'd be
so such fun
Currently I have to watch other cars with
a hawk's eye after a crash yesterday, two
drivers not looking at a roundabout went
for the same spot, now I glare at drivers
with laser eyes
To make sure they are clear before I drive
off; I love my little Suzuki too much to take
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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An Invading Fungus
Listening to Mozart, looked up - felt shocked
to see black cupboards appearing everywhere
like black mushrooms blooming - an invading
fungus taking over the open-plan office and
destroying the ambience of our previously
rather handsome Kingsley palace
Apparently our Chief Director feels a need for
filing space, thus ordered these monstrosities
to overwhelm us with mustiness & dark sliding
doors, placed upon the cupboards already used
as partitions for privacy - when I see the black
ugliness threatening like burnt fields
I wonder about the nastiness in human hearts
that can inflict such sombreness on innocent
officials already slowing dying in the little work
space allocated to them, what could have pos-
sessed anyone to make cupboards black
like that?
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Enneagram
But no, nothing helped when I tried to be myself
reading old books, even a new one on sixth sense
said I should take heed of every single pain my
body produced to determine what I think
I feel a stranger in my own skin after a day
doing Big Five & Enneagram questionnaires
– which classify me the most selfish, unhelpful,
self-centred human alive;
even fairy pictures in my Treasury of Children’s
Poetry failed to restore me; according to the
questionnaires, I am detrimental to people
I meet in social contexts - I am devastated
cannot believe I am the MEAN uncaring person
Jung’s questionnaire says; I shall explain to
those I love HOW MUCH I love them, but if it
is true, I wanted to MUCH be better than that –
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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All That I Have Left
The Apostle Paul recommended women should
not seek beauty in hairstyles, ornaments, jewellery
and expensive clothes, true beauty lies in character;
I say: Thank you, the hairstyle is easily done due to
the thin feathers on my head, as for the clothes
I have to wear something, the clothes I have is ugly
enough - I cannot find pretty clothes in my size - and
now I find none that fits, neither pretty or ugly; at least
Paul said clothing is required, my only option is to mail-
order a burka as the clothes in our Western shops
Are an unqualified flop - for me at least, I comply with
the requirements for looking ugly; working on character
is all that I have left - Paul, you did not recommend
anything, you simply stated the state of affairs!
1 Timothy 3: 9 & 10
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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