Ephemeral
Dont want the story to end, stop reading
before the end, take the book back to the
library, I can keep the characters alive in
mid-stride while already submitting to the
charm of the greatest mathematician, the
ship of the desert, the camel enjoying his
lunch for dinner while the ephemeral world
of the Aegean Sea conjured in such archaic
Afrikaans remains a fixed mirage in my heart
unwavering in the air to entice me to join the
fictitious scene and find a new ideal there
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Beyond Love
Beyond belief, beyond love,
is a delight, an ecstasy unique
of happiness complete
Irrespective of creed and
belief, religion and cult,
New Age and the occult
Good and bad is the same
if no Deity, we can do
all the evil we want
Or if there is no God we
must do the good He
would did He exist
Christ, the biggest atheist,
saw people suffering and
never said: God bless
[...] Read more
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Proof Enough
The evil has deserted me with which
I must have tried to sabotage your TV
screen, suffering the same fate does not
count; you ordered: Pull the plug - and
right now you delight in marvellous self-
righteous indignation
Who could dispute the fact, I pulled the
wrong plug on your stentorian order to
pull something to the left so you might
watch your programme without respite;
so be it, evil me banished to the kitchen
and why not indeed - I am a fool
I married you - proof enough…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Violins Weep
When telephone rings and my colleague
embarks on a loud conversation, I fight
back with Oblida-Oblada -life goes on-
to counter the noise, an energy squirt
while I struggle with a translation text
When silence descends I seek other
music, Saint-Saens nearly drove me
mad with loud piano chords, found
the soothing tones of Mantovani,
though the violins weep
In my mind long-sleeved ladies slow-
dance in the arms of tuxedoed men
all against a glittering background
of pink champagne…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Eye Clean And Pure
Our first reaction to injustice and
dishonesty is to lose our ideals,
sink into a moral and emotional
quagmire - snarl at those below
us and give up dreams of trust-
worthiness and stewardship
But I try not to because the feeling
of wonderment when we encounter
great moral strength is too wonderful
an experience to become despondent
when tortured by unbridled arrogance
The beauty of resolute fortitude which
keeps the eye clean and pure, makes
me desirous to strive for the same ideal
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Black Matter Destination
It is not a problem, of course, the Milky Way is
still attracted by a heavy object in defiance
of the general Hubble expansion
It is a change of names and a location behind
the Great Attractor, the movement is the same
I am delighted that contrariness
Still marks the direction in which the Solar
System is taken while orbiting around the
Centre of the Solar System
Sitting tight in the Sagittarius arm, we are pulled
towards the Shapley Supercluster, a mysterious
Black Matter destination…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Not Alive Today
I'm not alive today
relegated to a level below
that of the undead
sitting at my desk, unable
to process a single text -
a rampant virus prevents
opening any document
Deeply perturbed by this
seemingly supernatural event
I read counsellingforyourself
indicating we are electrical
circuit boards with several
minds - I know this is true,
sometimes I get up as a
totally different person,
and the mirror shows me
a strange face also
How I wish I could change
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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My Feverish Brow
Restless, angry with myself, doing stupid things
while waiting for the French exam, so excited to
write a real exam at last and what do I do with
this chance - grow tense and confused, cannot
concentrate to revise again, telling myself this is
bad behaviour does not help, feet freezing in the
icy air-con which cools my feverish brow, the long
wait leads to a tension headache and I wish that
I could calm down, wish I could feel better and
study with more self-confidence…
Wednesday 28 November 2012
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Ominous Silence
Is silence ominous
or just an indication
of boredom, feeling
fed up with life
Open-plan office, only
accompaniment a text
on corruption, Strauss
in my earphones
No warm camaraderie
to fill emotional spaces
‘tis where unlovability
comes in
I cannot feign interest
I admit, ate too much
bread this weekend
chemical depression
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Find His Wings (Rev.)
I prayed when my son tested boundaries,
not to constrain him, but for us, knowing
he’s finding wings, praying he’ll discover
his own limits, formulate his own philosophy
Prayed we wouldn’t drive him away by our
criticism – doing just as we did as youths but
worried because I want to protect him from
all that might cause harm
I need not have worried – felt glad knowing
he has to be purged in the fire of life now,
while he is still at home, rather than later,
when we are not around …
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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