To Ponder a life…

We stand and stare at our unordered dreams,
not recognising what’s been there relayed.
Younger somehow from what is remembered,
in accordance with a time that’s edge is frayed.

Uncertainty runs, it’s a blood streamed rage,
now thinly spilled courage in veins of light.
Carrying forth our palest weakened ideal,
terrified of even the dark white knight.

I pulled off the road today
where I used to watch the pine trees sway
the dozers now have stripped it bare
as if they were never really there

I hunted here in years gone by
beneath every type of sky
while finding hints of people past
their broken dreams that didn't last

The pines were planted years ago
at least thirty years or so
in hopes of growing future gain
sans labor and muscle pain

Twenty eight days to return you
Just because you don’t please me
If you don’t match what I have already
I can send you back.

Perhaps, in the light of my home
Your colour is not quite right.
If you function well
I may just hold onto you,
Working you day and night

Should your light go out
Or you are not cool anymore,
I am guaranteed a replacement
As good as, if not better than the last.

I Said I Would

I said I would come along
Sorry twas a bit late
The snow was the main cause
Was so heavy a snow fall
The paths screwed
I wish I’d shown you the view

But don’t worry,
I’d said I’d come along
Have I kept you waiting for long?

"MY LEG ON HIS THIGH"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 1 am.
10th December 2010.

`

The night has fallen around us
The wind it savagely blows;
A wicked mood is cast upon me,
One from which I cannot go.

Against the night, orbs on lamp posts loom,
Flickering forth a sickly yellow light;
A storm from deep within advances,
Still no hope for me to go.

Heavy leaded clouds drape the sky,
The paving just as dark below;
Such sight it fails to move me:
I cannot, will not go.

`

Decisions, decisions
We make them
We regret them
We learn from them

Riding the waves
Learning the way
We search for answers
Among the carnage

Total confusions
Everything the same
Nothing the same
Life is not what we thought

Growing up, no longer a boy
Not yet a man, still a teen
Life is crazy, no longer about me
Learning to listen

Standing at the crossroad
Of maturity and adulthood
No longer blocking, but
Listening making informed decisions

fragile bodies succumb to the toll
of a substance that robbed their soul
stole all the heart's hope
the minds ability to cope
slowly eating away the mind
leaving an empty shell behind
this substance has no name
excuses are always the same
Momma you know I'm clean
push it and they get mean
they make a call and then leave
all the mother can do is greave
she knows it's only a matter of time
hope it is cops and not some crime
that takes her child
that was once sweet and not wild

Small birds gather outside my window
huddled beneath sparse cover
of a leafless fire bush.
Feathers puffed out
shielding against the northern wind
and errantly dancing snow.
The winter sparrows camaraderie
warms my heart
sheltered as I am
behind concrete and glass
separating their world from mine.

Loreli

Day 1

I vow at the beginning of each week
That I'm not going to let the world get to me,
I'm centred and free.

Day 2

I feel my blood begin to simmer.
My finger is on the trigger.
I just know someone will piss me off, soon.
 
Day 3

Calmness is my middle name,
but underneath the trigger is half cocked,
and my finger is getting itchy.
 
Day 4 

My prediction becomes reality
 the tossers of this world unite,
and make my blood boil.
 I discharge an angry bullet