after the firestorm
when the earth shakes her fury
the time of rainbows.....

her devastation
but a path
to what cannot pass away
the spirit that thrives
inside orange blossoms
that roar and howl
with flesh

stranger than fiction
stronger than chains
imprisoning
then linking us to earth,

a flash,
here then gone.

SICK REPEAT SICK
Margaret Ann Waddicor
1st May 2011

Sick as sick as sick can be
when being sick is sick to me
I'm sick of it fair sick of it
as you can see

yes sicks' the word for this
I'm sick in my abyss of pain
I send the sickness back again
but sickness follows me
as you can see

and now you're even sick of me
repeating sick again
for sick is just a pain.

I have faltered
in my walk
as a man
stumbling
fumbling through
menial jobs
for daily bread
(and visible means)
taking no advantage of
generous opportunities
graciously offered
rudely rejected
no plan
no map
from here to where?
drifting
rootless
wondering;
others work hard
diligently
purposefully
it's clearly unfair
I should be so content

Reality is:
The circumference of our lives
in this space of time.

It is perception,
an analogue of senses,
consciously awake.

It’s recollections,
delusions and elusions,
clearly undefined.

It’s our molecules,
the essence of our being,
every breath we take.

youth is tough for dreamers
i write that
intending it
to be all i say

but you remember things
little ones
like
shallots are spring onions
and it leaves me
impressed
you listened

there should be
something more profound
than just outlines of myself
more to run your hands across

more lasting than
whatever 'this' is

and there again is
a reason to make you
into poetry

so 'this' is remembered
by the poet

They issue warnings, it's no use
for Ol' Muddy has let loose
fed by melt and rain far from here
bringing misery to all things near

Underneath the blue bird sky
I watch inexorable water rise
one day dampening my fields
the next destroying all their yields

Driving out rabbits and deer
bringing snakes much much too near
I've hauled my livestock off the farm
to a place I hope is beyond harm

Triplets Small Ones

Hello Archer

If I make any comment,
Perhaps you'll ask
The Arrower,
To shoot me
Out of this tent,
So I shall for a while
Remain silent,
Tis OK Steve!

Seasonal Poet

Songbird has said it all
I would like to make
Just a slight change,
In place of seasonal
I wish to say,
Seasoned Poet,
If I may
Amidst the density of
Wikis Laureates

here we lie
in summit hopes
and in deep shade
the valley want
sullen and reposed
while we flicker
in sunlight beams

I taste the cool
of the creek
from glacial
spent

this soul I inhabit
ringing like a chime
in paint ruined rooms
the windows cracked

are we rust on the hinges
we travelled so far
in this mirage understanding

Entity of the night
Make thy self be known
Are you from the underworld
Or of human
Flesh and bone

Phantom of the dark
What is it you seek
To prey upon a living soul
Or another’s life
To store in your keep

Weaving dreams of
Shadowed lies
Guiding the hands that write
Of love and tombs and
Flowers left to die

There's a calm before the storm
You are here to do me harm
Try as you might
It will all be in vain
Yet I know that I will
Weather the pain

There's no more shame
in this modern whirlwind
tomorrow forgets our stumbles
too readily, for those who choose
to ignore I'm standing.

Teetering on the edge of disaster
heart beats loud in my ear pounding
quick and even faster,

Gazing down from the brink
of the ever after, just a few hundred
feet and the agony will cease.

Turning about-face can no longer
look at the point of my demise,
from where the crushing limbs of
the sea will soon taste my bile.