platitudes, ah platitudes. . .
paucity of penury

when not enough
is too much

non-existent forgiveness
lines road to somewhere

all signs point
to

pot of gold --
more than wrong

clandestine advertiser's slick
fleece fools

waiting in line for it
anticipation is killing them

hyperbole notwithstanding
they wait and wait.

As finality draws near
I see the world as ecstacy
beyond transition,
each instant burgeoning delight,
unfolding outwards into endlessness
where every second's thought
becomes eternal,
each moment's choice
a new beginning
reaching to realities unknown
until the present catches up with past
and future hurries by,
time decreasing in echoed infinities
between duration's measure
and hope's treasure
of emerald lands that shout beneath
bright shores by gleaming seas

"NOT A DAY, OR WAS IT?" Margaret Ann Waddicor. November 15th 2010.

Today is not a day, its grey
no highlights wake my mind,,
the snowflakes one or two,
float by the window frame,

and all is quiet and colourless,
as white the grass is hidden,
the trees breath slowly,
their messages from heaven,
the weather tells them what to do,
to be and see and state,

Down within green silent shadows
of forested ravines carved deep
between the windswept sleeping dunes
that lie along the empty shore

Is where my God is found,
revealed deep down where march
of living trees conceals
all tales of modern life,

For the God I know eschews the
brick and mortar mortal men lay
down upon Her earthen flesh to
cover truth with lifeless versions
of their own.

I shall go quietly
albeit with my chains
released into the ethers
without pleasure, without gain.

Dissociative dimness
dumbs down the mind
Indifference is Nature's way
of release, from the unkind.

No love for love
given freely over time
No pity for this fool
who's passion proved the only crime.

BB 19 November, '10

.
mythoglyphics bore me
emotionality annoys me
verbosity scares me
clarity's a rarity

too much style gets in the way
too cryptic... and...oy vay!
too long, attention fades
too short...there's nothing more to say?

stock lines
schlock rhymes
well refined
but can't find the meter

that's how it seems
as I scan my old reams
...when sensed not as "the author"
......but as a poor innocent reader!

Amid the canyons made of steel
a world completely without green
where nature has been brought to heel
still, subtle beauty can be seen

Just prior to morning's sunrise
only sound is distant diesel's rumble
in quickly lightening predawn skies
you can watch white contrails crumble

Tall towers' glasses now reveal
the first lances of the morning light
lending a sharp crystalline feel
to an otherwise stark, sterile sight

Eyes that
Cry through the night
I beg of you to find strength

I know that melancholy
Has crippled your faith
And that hope
Seems like a rare artifact

Yes, this world
Has turned its back
But there is a fire in our soul
That makes us find a way
To fight whatever life
Throws our way

Giving up might seem right
And the pain might be unbearable
This I know from experience

There are basically, but two ways
to accomplish a given task,

if one can research, and become informed
then in the sweet light of success, one will "bask"!

Last month, I tried to move my residence
to a house, where I could better, reside,

however, while asking for neighborly assistance
my friends "dragged their feet", and tried to hide !

Now, I've been there for others,
moving really is a daunting chore,

Oh! Woman!

Lovely find
You have achieved
Which for centuries
Others have deceived
Your find helps people grind
And
Your love you share
Leaves others in despair

How is it you found about it?
That which others
Have been searching
All life gone by
The forests of ignorance
How could you succeed so early?

Your search
Do share with me
For ever since
I’ve been born
I’ve been
In an everlasting
Scalding lurch
In search of my search!