PART I: GARDEN IN THE SKY

Exploding supernova in a Western sky:

Mystic dark portent, or the evil eye?

Seems every hour another star in our galaxy dies:

Tell me, where did all the Appleweed take root

In our garden in the sky?

Like faceless marionettes in some grotesque display,

Contorted caricatures from some frightening play;

Sometimes, it seems that all our dreams of Passion’s endless spark

Are lost in green, or torn in twain, we take

Small solace in the dark...

in the cold dark before dawn,
water for coffee just beginning
to boil,

frost forms on silhouettes
of nightmare’s dream.

kettle whistles silently
from dusk light kitchen,

dream continues to bleed
a drop at a time on the clean
breakfast floor.

light is breaking fast now,
i see it through the window,

falling on sleeping winter tree limbs--
bleeding dreams of their own,

"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,

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

I never knew her name
I saw her for a moment,
in a crowd~
her face lost but my memory
of it

I consider what
happens to her,

ice blue eyes
shining like
a new robin’s egg

I saw her once
it may have
been a
dream,

what else
after
ice blue

eyes.

life’s chances
are dances danced
in some square,

onlookers watching,
even their stare,
sees us quite
plainly,
see us
quite plain
in life’s
dancing quiet --

altogether
insane.

Gripped in ancient curve of world,
hazed blue to black on turns of planet speeding slow
across bright vision of new civilization,
the gleam of shining cities spread myriad
along brief crusted scabs of continent
means nothing to the emptiness of eons
light itself can never conquer
through instances of stellar distance…

…no culture proud will cross a million years
of centuries grown geologic in glacial duration…

She's not important anymore:
Things didn't go the way that she foresaw-
See her lying on the floor
Can't hurt her more...

Words can't tell you how she feels:
She caught the wrong end of your deals-
You only need her for your thrills
And feels...

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