Far From Home
You two, father and son - went to look for
cars at auction, came back having bought
curtains for our son's bedroom, I was so
prejudiced - but you were right
Such great effect: grey, black and beige made
the yellow pelmet, remnant of a creative phase
when I spray-painted long ago; look beautiful,
his room has new appeal
Nici, my college daughter, doing research on
photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson whose
book ‘The Decisive Moment' shows photos
taken on the run, the title sounds
Like a horror movie, Nici says, I offer ideas which
are firmly rejected by the young demoiselle, she
knows her own mind - my nuclear family makes
life worthwhile, everybody giving advice
For a trip to Stonehenge in the Free State, a
Strategic Planning Session, Nici choosing
teddies to take along, Tiaan suggesting
books to read - while hubby lectures
On food that will be safe; I cherish my new
book, looking for a favourite pillow which
might help me to sleep when
I'm alone, far from home…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
Goodwill Permeating Everything…
Everything is lined up because Martin helped,
Tiaan’s “wildlife farm” and tourist attraction,
with a model in wood, Nici with a fossil in
plaster of Paris, without Martin I would have
paid someone to do the trick, I’m an academic
myself, today schools require engineers and
private entrepreneurs… I’m so happy, at least
I washed the floor while everyone had their
own kind of fun! Thanking Martin in verse is
all I can do for his wonderful job in taking care
of the kids, checking that Tiaan cleans his shoes –
and Nici’s also, seeing as she covered all his books,
the feeling of goodwill in the house is permeating
everything…
poem by by unknown author
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How I Love (Revised)
The rain came with assuring displays of
Valkyrian thunder and lightning; at last
we can breathe again – showers have
cleansed the air and with an iniquitous
sun gone I can watch TV all day;
Tiaan stayed with a friend overnight, never
slept; sleeping now at midday. Nici said she
would like to adopt her friend’s adorable
boa constrictor, agreeably feed him mice,
I warned I would leave our home
A joyful discovery – I am flexible enough
to watch TV in the spiritual Lotus position
just like my book’s sweet protagonist;
watched Tales of Belle of Beauty and The
Beast; delighted – just how I would imagine
She must have spent her enchanted castle
days by herself with only servants under a
spell to take care of her – Nici so happy, her
friend is back, found her lost necklace
in the driveway
Texting us now with her Blackberry birthday
present from her room, at last we can plan a
proper celebration, she said with shining
eyes, condescending to share a restaurant
meal with her family –
Oh, I love my little world
with these wonderful kids…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Heart Of My People
Nici invited me to go walkabout and I collected a dry twig
just perfect to make a mobile, wild flowers and Japanese
vocabulary as she teaches me; affixed the twig - draped
with flowers - to a rail in the kitchen
Ate the dish prepared by Tiaan - perfectly succulent - and
Nici’s potato mix, life perfect when I can breathe, see and
hear the beauty of my kids, appreciate the new TV system
and rejoice about the tears I have shed about a text
Delineating Africa’s problems, breaking my heart before
setting me free knowing why we cannot progress when
those in charge refuse to comprehend why the heart of
my people won’t heal
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Not Home Tonight
Tiaan not home tonight, Nici nowhere in sight,
Martin surviving his life, I am watching X factor
alone, Tiaan introduced me to the programme
last week; without his presence, I am by myself
I miss my son’s sardonic humour, his smile, his
long-suffering patience when his dad comes down
on him and his friends; his Stoic acceptance when
his acerbic, hostile Scorpion dad administers a
Sting to his knight-in-shining-armour image; Tiaan
filled with zeal to help those suffering, while his dad
wants him to set rules and self-interest above all else
- Tiaan so enthusiastic about life, concerned to
- earn the marks he deserves, to build a six-pack,
to take care of us, becoming a dedicated cook; oh
how I miss him – though I am so proud of his new
self-confidence visiting his friends…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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It All Started With Her
The day faltered to an ignominious end,
Internet connection lost, email off, cannot
look up anything, headache caused by my
feasting on chips - and a cheese griller - for
breakfast, super recipe for culinary disaster
Felt so oppressed by the ubiquitous black I
wear everywhere; pulled out my ice-blue top
to be an Ice Princess again, start the dream
with the mirror playing along - light just right
in the afternoon to show a smiling stranger
With whom I can enact shows on my own -
yet I could try to be a good mother and wife
ask everybody about their lives, but getting
chased by Nici from her room with hubby
engaged in earnest technology research
I ensconced myself in the warm glow of the
kitchen - Tiaan entered and commented on
being allergic to egg, I inadvertently said all
allergic people should be shot, starting with
me, he enacted the scene, shooting all down
Commenting - when people enquired about
the shooting - he would point to my corpse
and say, ‘It All Started With Her…'
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Destroyer Of Peace
Linah is an absolute dear, the saviour of children about to drown
saving me when I fell in the shower, yet her reign of terror gets me
down - she cleans with her radio on high volume, nobody can do or
see something else, noise overpowering, only escape the front porch
where I am now- and the bathtub where I have just been
The kids said they are used to the torment of noise and work around
it, my beloved says Linah should go if the noise turns up a few decibels
- yet Linah saved Nici from drowning - nobody does anything about the
noise, my beloved pays her for more tasks as he sees her commitment -
Nici shows me the Igor movie in which a beloved monster works
Everyone to death - could this be a subliminal message that she knows
Linah is one such beloved monster, a destroyer of peace while being
so good to us?
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Embroider Visions
My heart as light as a feather, already
planning on sharing domestic moments
while visiting my dad, yes, it has been
decided, the kids will go with me
Nici shall drive the Jeep, Tiaan navigate,
I shall sleep, four hundred kilometres to
see mom and dad - tuck mom in, stroll
with dad on the farm, enjoy his garden
Listen to his music and favourite stories,
admire the big trucks that inspire him so
much, also look at mum's sewing, com-
miserate with aches and pains
Spending time together doing nothing
while the kids shall accompany my sis
on field trips, she loves entertaining -
what felicity, what bliss
I shall enjoy my dreams and embroider
visions till then!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Words Which Hold Me Captive
Told Nici I had finished the first book, with starry eyes
she brought the second volume also, I have almost
finished the third one too, she said, and I could not
withstand the charm of this series written for teens,
beautifully sculpted to keep readers on tenterhooks
as hero and heroine were driven apart
Unwillingly at first, trying to withstand its spell, I began
to read, was sucked deep into the story world, every-
thing disappeared and I read until the second book
came to a discordant end, threatening tragedy, I would
have to read the third book also, no stopping this lovely
sheath of dreams from carrying my spirit away
No realism can penetrate or dispel the beautiful illusion
or destroy the magic words which hold me captive -
and I am such a willing victim…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The creative act lasts but a brief moment, a lightning instant of give-and-take, just long enough for you to level the camera and to trap the fleeting prey in your little box.
quote by Henri Cartier-Bresson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happiness (Love Poem)
Is a million memories...
Like your favourite Beatles track,
Like breakfast coffee in a Turin bar,
Like the old friends that never grow old,
Like your favourite Italian pasta in Rome,
Like summer swims in warm sea with cold rain,
Like the aria which sends shivers down your spine,
Like the magical taste of Gaja Barberesco for lunch,
Like coming home to a smiling face after a long trip,
Like your child buying you dinner for the first time,
Like how beautiful she was on your wedding day,
Like your first date movie being on TV again,
Like capturing a moment in a photograph,
Like rereading your favourite book,
Like watching Casablanca again,
Like publishing your first book,
Like living every moment...
... And a million more to come.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Nici In My Life
I stared at my little baby all through
the first night of her life, still in shock
that the little darling was part of me
and now lived and breathed on her
own, my life was not the same, so
much better with the little claimant
on my time and energy
If she cried incessantly I put her in
a kangaroo bag around my neck
and tilled the garden while bits of
dirt flitted down on her sleeping
face and I knew I had an angel
with me, I took her everywhere
I went, especially the library
She surprised us when it came out
she told the teacher her mother said
she need not learn at school, I had
to backtrack and explain that society
and law require us to spend time
learning and though the value was
limited, she had to learn too
Before long she read and wrote
on her own, her life was a secret
of what happened at school and
where she went with her friends,
soon she abused her parents in
the time-honoured tradition of
teenagers everywhere
On 12 September she turns 18, she
still looks so young but underneath
has a will of steel, her naughty tricks
delights me, I'm amazed to see how
disciplined and overbearing she is,
a revelation of how young people
think when raised conservatively
She is still studying before spreading
her wings, a wonderful friend teaching
her mother how to be cool - though the
project is doomed - with Nici in my life
I am blessed, her determined little
face still enchants me no end…
Happy Birthday Nici!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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2010/08/31 Book Of Secrets
Took Nici to a hairdresser to plan a hairstyle
for the ball, then visited a novelty shop and
found a fairy dairy in pink that recreated all
my auric dreams, a three-dimensional fairy
within a string of pearls, flowers, coloured
glitter, silver ink reflecting the light
Though the key is stuck without turning, it is
the prettiest fairy picture I have ever seen, I
shall lock up all my favourite poems in it, it
shall be my book of secrets, I shall treasure
it, a reminder of that beautiful dress I saw at
the dressmaker, fuelling dreams
I must find a way to take the dairy everywhere
I go on earth, I never want to be without this
enchantment again, I adore this dairy as I have
never adored anything before; bought coloured
notebooks in the past, but nothing like this, it is
glorious to be in possession of real magic
The most wonderful, bewitching blend of the
the sublime…
poem by Margaret Alice
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Inspiring
24 August 2011
Part 1: In Spite of Everything
Oh, give me a chocolate, give me what I crave,
excitement and adventure, an inspiring challenge,
not sitting quietly at my desk looking at criminal
messages at Interpol’s behest
Oh, give me the freedom of sea and wind and sun
up high creating fairy wings in front of my eyes, let
me not languish here, let me not expire in my chair,
let me run outside, be taken down
In a dramatic fight, a heroic deed, some bravery that
would make me feel it was a worthwhile life in spite
of everything and everyone that tried to bring us
down when we were young
Part 2: Invigorating
Back after enjoying the wind outside, invigorating,
energising, inspiring, two chocolates, a wire basket
for my own version of interior decoration, a dainty
coffee cup, tried on shiny silver sandals
Trying to help Nici find the right kind for the party,
something delightful, now to embark on my quest
for translation excellence, though love for intrigue
leads to my misunderstanding texts frequently
25 August 2011
Part 3: Beautiful
Found perfect silver sandals for Nici, heels
not too high, shine just right, I am delighted,
she is enchanted, showed them to all her
friends, perfect for the soft purple dress
she is going to wear
Decorated my new wire basket with white
lace and a few roses, set it next to my bed
with my books and paper doll inside, for the
first time I have made something beautiful
that is practical too
I wandered about with starry eyes, imagined
millions of wire baskets everywhere decorated
by me, filled with books and trinkets, all things
nice, the toys I keep out of sight as I have no
container pretty enough
To showcase them, when you complimented my
attempt at handicraft I felt validated, appreciated,
measured for worth and not found wanting at all -
this is brilliant, I cannot wait to try this again, buy
chiffon roses and shiny fabrics
And decorate everything in sight
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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A book.
Shelves of books with variant topics:
Medicine, Engineering and comics,
Languages, Management and Marketing,
Tourism, Text books and Computing,
House hold, Carpentry and plumbing,
Trucks, Driving and operating.
Must choose one to taste,
Read regularly to last,
A full term of life and love,
Nourish it with the dose of care,
Can buy it from the stores,
That sells New, second hand and old,
When the new book is bought,
The smell itself fresh and great,
To remember for the life throughout,
Keep it as a Holy book and enjoy,
When the used books are purchased,
Rarely used books, never opened,
A few half read and half left,
A few stained and battered,
A few has the quotations underlined,
When the old books are bought,
The papers are oxidized and yellow,
Touch it, fragile, handle with care,
Though the contents may be good,
Prints are washed out and hard to see,
Heavily tainted of weather.
Whether you buy the new or the used book,
Make sure that you choose the right book,
Then read chapter by chapter leaving no nook,
Sometimes it thrills and shrills,
It is hilarious and comical,
If it is full of mysteries,
Try to solve it with your knowledge,
Don't slam and tear it,
Not touch it with your drug fingers,
Not read it with your spirited mind,
You will misunderstand the contents,
Promise yourself you will not make,
Your book an used and neglected book again.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Books
Books take me to a place like no other
When I'm reading no one else madders
All my problems go away and it's just my books and me.
Books I like that word but when I read
My mom and dad and all my brothers and sisters go away
And I'm left there with no one but a book.
And then I pick it up and the word isn't so empty any more
It's full again. Like when you're a kid and your mom or dad
Come home after a long trip without you and you missed them
And then you're crying, laughing and happy all at the same time.
That how I get with a book I just found.
Happy because it's by my favorite Author but yet sad because
The book ended with questions still in my head.
And laughing because it was funny at one point in the book.
I love that felling when I pick up a book.
How do you fell when you pick up a book?
Happy, sad, a funny felling? You tell me please come on now don't be shy.
poem by Alley Rodriguez
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Lost In A Book
SHHH!
don't bother me
I'm lost in a book
mixed up with
the complicated plots
and outrageous characters
when i'm lost in a book
I don't have to think
about my life
I'll get stuck in
a fantasy world
and never
have to come back
home again
one book
after another
I read, read, read
different places
different people
a new world
I start fresh
each time
I open up a new book
when i'm lost in a book
I am safe
no one can hurt me
I'm happy
when I'm lost
in a book
poem by Annie Janine
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Why.............?
The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!
The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.
The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.
Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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2010/07/26 Auric Light
An invisible string to thread my small crystal
beads, even Tiaan helping because I cannot
see to do it myself, it would take me a hundred
years at least to complete one string
I wanted to make many strings to represent my
vision of auric light shining out, but after an epic
struggle I gave up and upended the beads in
crystal glasses to enjoy the pristine shine
Without destroying my eyes, Tiaan commenting
‘After suffering for many years to string beads, I
found the solution, dumping beads everywhere’
and I laughed, Nici only shaking her head
While busy with her bead-making craft - I also love
the effect of beads in sea-shells, resembling coarse
salt but with a new shine, no more threading for me
I cannot see, it felt too much like torture
My new system brings us miniature rainbows with-
out the heartache of threading invisible strings
with translucent beads!
poem by Margaret Alice
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To photograph is to hold one's breath, when all faculties converge to capture fleeting reality. It's at that precise moment that mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy.
quote by Henri Cartier-Bresson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A book read
At home...
Cheldren
Read book
Waching T.v.
Some of cartoon
Running on t.v
Father was
Sleeping
On bed...
Mother was
Washing clouths...
Children read
The book...
With waching t.v
Book pages was
Fly with
Air...
Read the book
Very fast at fan...
Children watch
T.v. feel free...
Father and mother
Not Free...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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