"A CRUCIFIXION"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 1st May 2011.

Asphyxiation
crucifixion
persecution
excruciating
words that sear the flesh of life
and bring our death

brief moments
troubled minds can see
these sights of pain
and fear

as flashing through the mind
a vile derision
visions that storm the calm
the peace

Hot, sweaty night with stagnant air
The smell of stale beer
crowding up against the cracked walls
and peeling paint

A black and white Marlon Brando
screaming; Stella.... Stella!
from the little T.V. sitting
next to the window

I see the black and rusty fire escape
through tatted lace yellowed with nicotine
Pop's head lying upon forearm
his mother's face behind his bleary eyelids

A winter morning and frosted windows
fried dough and hot chocolate
hugs and kisses
and better days

patent sunlit chamber
nicotine kisses
this lace wound day
breezing at her golden edge
lays with her rays of light
tumbling like dice

and I wait
with breath
"Snake Eyes"

all velvet plans
are the slow crush
we inhale

and our shadows
sharp like cystal growths
jump in the textures
of gravity
oozing down the
barrier reefs of all
nocturn inhabitants

I give you keys
and you slip me minor
verse one lines
of supple beauty

Revelation Of Time

Time and tide wait for no man as also the changing of the moon,
Yet we would like time to stand still, to have more, certainly as a boon.
Whenever we are facing the sun our faces glow
Then we do know how the time does really flow.

The markets are down and the recession we have found.
We find the markets are surely enough, a big round
Zero, of course I needn’t have to discuss and feel,
How ignorant a person today yourself you reveal.

At last
one less false prophet
.....murderer
........terrorist
........... mad man

Sent to join Hitler
on shared date of death
did any really doubt Assoma's fate?
.his only trial
...................by muzzle's blast
....................guilty
..............by self admission

A single leaf on a tree
Braves snow and wind
My strength
Before it falls

We said goodbye
without speaking.
Stark silences saturated
by thwarted longing, intolerable feelings

Now past colourful secrets bleed -
Into a created canvas
of new meaning
A still-life of love lost,
A portraiture of forever leavings...

Bjr 2 May, 2011

.
I sit alone
a private pew, if you will
at my less than sanctified
kitchen table
a bottle of 80 proof
a glass
ash tray, cigarettes
and a pistol
another round
of solitaire
half hearted
half drunk
half assed any way you look at it
grumblin' at the radio
dj don't know
shit
just lost another game
shuffle and deal 'em out again
an entire evening without a win
kind'a integral to the theme I guess
a loser losing some more

I fell away
An empty vessel, a jar of clay
We were a submarine
Lost in the ocean, blocked by a screen
I can’t relate my heart to paper and words
We were intrinsic
Memories we created as we walked through our futures
We were so happy then
Look at us now
Apart, stranded, lost in the flood of the common day
We were washed away
And into the vacuum of space our souls hide

We couldn’t breath
We couldn’t breath

Yesterday the fields of winter oats
were nodding new heads to the wind
but today they're cut and lay like thatch
upon a roof that has no end

And it will sit another day
beneath the spring sun bright and warm
to dry and cure to shade of mint
in this far field of this old farm

After that will come the rake
to arrange it into neat windrows
all marching in a single file
the fragrance wafts where the wind blows