`

Invisible but not voiceless,
This fire within me burning;
Fueled by things long since done;
Uncertain it would continue
And most certainly would one day end.

Resounding vermillion trains,
Travelling across frontier lands;
That began by fits and starts.
But this is just the beginning,
And most certainly is not the end.

Smearing the silence with my thoughts:
Scarlet ink on blue paper;
Conversing along the lines;
Uncertain it would continue,
And most certainly would one day end.

craps shoot at thought café

in backroom
at the thought café
game of craps
was ongoing for as long
as I recall.

most of the regulars
were there with
their money folded
long ways between
middle and ring fingers.

action was a little
slow, and regulars
were looking for new
meat.

they looked my way,
and I shook my head, no
and said, “I don’t gamble.”

“why are you smoking that
damn pipe and drinking
cabernet?” they asked.

Through my eyes

You say you don’t feel beautiful
And you’re not the girl you were
You look into the mirror
It seem that things have changed

But baby,
you need to see what I see
And know you’re still the beauty
You’ve always been
Through my eyes

Don’t trust your eyes
For they only lie
I see how others look at you
And they want you as I do

So baby,
you need to see what I see
And know you’re still the beauty
You’ve always been
Through my eyes

I suddenly came to be
me
an individual
some say unique among myriad
white brethren

Having no religion or direction
I drift in a seeming random route
only connecting with others
by short -lived accident
from which I rebound

The short duration of

my brief lifetime

spirals slowly

inevitably

down

Until at last my beauty crashes
as I join my fellows who fell before me
and mingle with others once unique
in an ephemeral blanket
of a southern snow fall

which melts

Thy Voice May!

If these be

Thy kind words

Of earnest poetic ecstasy

Rise along with the Phoenix

And abide with me

Of that I’m certain

God shall return thy voice to thee.

You shall in time walk

Along with me

But by then

I would be standing isolated

At the threshold of eternity

From where no man

Can ever return

Know this ye.

For I continue to be

A naïve passer by

Retain your love for some one else

I am only a finger

To help erase strife

eyes

eyes hold you there
applause subsides
auditorium empties

another night
another show
whispers heard backstage

stage door creaks on
rusted hinges --
opening, allows players' exit

alleyway awake with footsteps
summer moths flutter naked light-bulbs
on aging brick walls -- casting eerie shadows

shuffle a dozen shoes
to street beyond
on the way for a coffee or drink

aura of performance just played fades --
just ahead of lightning and thunder
actors reach the street

"Muse I"

He comes gently
I hear him in my dreams
gives me inspiration
tells me I can fly.
Softly fleeting whispers
I try to catch the quiet
hold it tightly in my hands
till morning
when on paper
I can write,
making inaudible
whispers come to life.

"Muse II"

Seemingly coming from nowhere
these words that I find
dark, forgotten somewhere
beneath clutter in my mind.

A little thing from old site's blog........................

The canary just dropped dead
while swinging in its cage
just one chirp of fear and dread
a definite pollution gauge

The dog whines scratching at the door
attempting to gain fresh air
escape is what he's begging for
an exit from his usual lair

That fly that's been buzzing all day
is twitching on the oval rug
I guess he's down and out to stay
one less fly, I sit and shrug

."NAKED"
Margaret Ann Waddicor October 13th 2010.

Naked
inflamed curses
slash open wounds;

Words whip like wind cast twigs
against casement vistas,
worn thin to shivering
pools shaken by your passing fling;

Slips stocking-tight
strangle my gullet,
bulge my eyes to see beside;

My skin hides flaps
descending with a clap
thunder plunders my desires;

Knee deep, limb deep,
I sweep you up so high,
my thighs aghast;

Come now children, gather near
you know that it's that time of year
when guiding stars adorn the sky
and reindeer are allowed to fly.

The recent harvest fills your tummy
with nuts and sweets and all things yummy.
Now is the best time to remember
if you've been good outside December.

'Cause Santa and his little band
have kept their tallys close to hand.
All of those who haven't been so nice
soon will pay a heavy price.