Emotional Upheaval
Only Terry Pratchett can be forgiven for irreverently sending
an unrefined Sam Vines into the pristine company of Pride
and Prejuduce - calling this classic a silly romance
Vimes launches into a diatribe against the stifling gentility that
held rich people enthralled within a useless existence, tells
author Jane Austen to write about
Corpses, murder and war – a cross between Mickey Spillane
and Margaret Mitchell; I love his advice about earning one’s
own keep leading to self-esteem
Enjoy the psychological tension Austen described –without
much action she creates more excitement and emotional
upheaval than Mike Hammer and
Scarlett O’Hara combined – only Wuthering Heights and
Jane Eyre can rival Jane Austen in making me
experience hallucinations!
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Monday Morning 21 May 2012
Never mastered the technique of carrying
meaning from one context to another, while
smiling in the car about last night on my way
to work, knowing which principles had been
symbolised, I am flabbergasted as to place
when in the work situation
I fail to become engrossed enough in the game
of Monopoly played as a means to earn a salary,
following arbitrary rules to keep us occupied and
move electronic documents from file to file; what
is the essence of being, can I hold on to myself
while being a child
In a reality of idiosyncratic activity without any
inherent meaning or long-term purpose except
to pass the time in such a way that bundles of
results can be quantified; those who profess to
know say simply being busy is joy in itself - but
somehow I need to invest
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Miracle Of This Moment
Enjoying the global world through the Internet
sharing the breathless delight that produced a
halo round Simon Cowell's head & made Piers
Morgan beam like a light -when eighty-year old
grandmother Janey Cutler from Glasgow got up
and made the audience clap -for her courage to
walk on stage and sing "No Regrets" in a voice
as strong and amazing as her resilient spirit
All started to cheer inflating with pride at sharing
life with her representing us - feisty & charming
as we all wish to be at her age, and in my usual
obsessive way I replay the video over and over
heart swelling until I am no longer tethered to
this office but fly in the sky wishing to imprint
my soul with the miracle of this moment in
order to carry the memory forever
Janey Cutler - Britain's Got Talent - Glasgow
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Unique Tapestries
A beautiful jersey with a cable pattern illustrating Many
Worlds Theory by weaving infinite threads of parallel
alternative events into cables spiralling rhythmically
in colour, sound and form
Evoking feeling and emotion, influencing choices which
change the future and past, creating unique tapestries on
the loom of the gods, threads made up of consciousness
shimmering in and out of existence
History is not an unfolding of preset events, but it is shaped
by every thought, plan, desire, wish, vision and dream; every
pattern is formed by free innovation, the alternative universes
of possible choices
Create the time-loop cables in reality’s tapestry, threads fork
innumerable times before converging again to continue the
enchanting patterns that keep gods and men staring
at the infinite possibility of probabilities…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Complaisance, Apologise
Giant spiders – tarantulas – in Brazil, Great Whale Sharks
in False Bay, no water in Djibouti’s lunar landscape, I am
watching Nat Geo Wild in a Zen-trance, kept awake by
the ever-present belly-ache
Having the time of my life watching the lives of others without
dreaming of joining them: when only one fervent wish is left,
freedom from discomfort and pain, there is no place for
any other desire to come to the surface
Then my son came – Please cover my book with plastic, I have
tried and failed again and again – I get up, surprise, the pressure
is gone, I feel so much better, help him with a smile, life so
worthwhile when I can do things for him
Now to make peace with his dad after failing to wait on him with
complaisance - forgetting that sacrifice is nothing compared to
peace and love; I shall apologise…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Sweet So I Can Have Peace
I feel terrible, the story I'm reading keeps me in suspense
because it does not make any sense, the unhappiness of
the characters suffering terrible passion and despair gives
me a headache, I don't believe anyone could be so upset
without falling ill; authors always give their characters too
much to bear, I cannot imagine so much intrigue in reality
without complete physical collapse
I make things charming and sweet so I can have peace yet
still take note of what others do to break the boredom of an
ideal existence, too much safety is just as bad as too much
pain, though I am fanatically opposed to suffering, the result
is that we are enriched by the wisdom it brings and the new
perspective that grows out of it makes me see the interesting
world in a different way, variety is
The spice of life - for me - in any case…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Best Things In Life
Brave all morning long, tackled
the threatening document, read
the sentences again, completed
the required Work-On-Hand sheet
Started on the ramblings of indigenous
people obliged for being acknowledged
as such - and sighed, my powers spent,
this long grey day seems to have no end
After the hairdresser trimmed the feathers
on my head, I have no more excuse to go
out into the rain - tired and bored I cannot
sit still in the office, yet this is where I am
Life is non-existent when no great ideal is
beckoning and only routine not worthy of
so much unwilling dedication is calling to
the restless spirit to laboriously continue
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Lilting In Silver Notes (Revised)
Soft and pliable, smile so gloriously
open to all, a melody lilting in silver
delight and golden sigh, rays of
magical light reaching all
Everything reflecting the golden shine:
brown as a rich treacle and white as
molten gold, black steadfast as back-
ground to offset all other colours
Changing water drops into diamond
tiaras and pearls, lightly the joyous
melody sang on, carried on dancing
feet never touching the ground
Filling open hearts, smoothing ruffled
minds, delighting as peace spread
over the land, tempests becalmed
for a sacred moment of time
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Vivaldi
Being forced to listen to Vivaldi by
a compilation of classical music, his
musical themes & unwavering beat,
his notes like stiff-necked soldiers
marching on with robotlike idiocy
drive me insane
Awakening memories of ALL things that
irked me recently, the contrast between
the delight reading Pratchett and being
enraged by Vivaldi-effigies led to the
suspicion there is a poem on anger
waiting in the wings
Meantime, these cold notes on the deficiency
of three-dimensional holographic images as
simile of reality made me reflect on life’s
shortcomings - but Men At Arms is lying
next to me, their mischievous irrational
levity is waiting
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Melody In Soft Gilded Brown
In a secret place in my heart there always
is a heroine playing the piano, tonight she
played Schubert's Impromptu in E-flat major
beautifully, rolling whirlpools of light-flashing
notes encircling a melody in soft gilded brown
Whorls turning and turning, I followed in a dance
moving to and fro, up and down, weaving musical
lines in my heart until the circles heaved in emotion,
reaching a peak and the gilded melody in soft velvet
brown calmed everything down
The secret place in my heart engulfed everyday
life, revelling in remembrance of every great love,
assigning delight to everything, every ray of sun-
shine, every moonbeam safe in a place where no
blight of being can touch - a Platonic world
Of perfect ideas where beauty remains an ideal
calling the dreamer forth - briefly adorning the
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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