Hallucination (Revised)
Reading ‘I Shall Wear Midnight' I whirl,
hallucinating my own making, becoming
my own protagonist, everyone becomes
Wintersmith turning into eyeless men
stalking everything good
Prosecuted not knowing how darkness
would lift, Wizard Eskarina entered so
Tiffany could understand, she must
dance again; forces unleashed solving
enduring winter by giving a death-
dealing kiss to the snow spirit
Everywhere it threatens goodness; evil
of hatred created slain ages ago by witch-
hunting victim's frenzy of misguided zeal -
all social comment based on reality, a
Dark Ages Spanish Inquisition when the
religion of Om, the one god, misused
To suppress and subdue, the Age of Reason
yet to come to require use of verifiable
sensory evidence to determine meaning of
guilt and secure freedom for the innocent -
I had to stop reading, too much meaning,
overwhelming emotion and feeling
'I Shall Wear Midnight' - Terry Pratchett
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
All The Emotion Evoked
Now where shall I take the high tide of emotion
seeing that I have finished reading the story of
Tiffany Aching - the book is too short; the great
promise of it beginning when she demanded a
full-scale hearing while every element seemed
to be against her - which made me shudder on
her behalf - turned benevolent universe MUCH
too soon and with the odds not stacked against
her victory was too easy and she was given all
help, suddenly she was such a sure-fire winner
riding the tide and I no longer identified with the
protagonist - my heroines always have to suffer
much longer with more challenges to overcome
I was ready to face a lot of pain - just to find the
ride too short, too few obstacles, the bride-to-be
was a special witch great at dealing with ghosts;
all misunderstanding solved too easily - I prefer
complications and intrigues for a sweet heroine
but Terry Pratchett spun a beautiful tale - to be
embroidered - until it contains all the pain I can
imagine - he remains my favourite author - all
the emotion evoked will be used to experience
and recreate fairytales old and new in my head
I Shall Wear Midnight - Terry Pratchett -
What a Wonderful Book!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Pristine Beauty
The magic woven by Terry Pratchett in ‘Going
Postal' took my mind like a wave invading every
lonely space, filling me with a sense of delight
and the desire to keep on digging for meaning
Since I cannot be content with the mere fact that
I exist in the way Golems can, I have to assign
meaning to everything in order to prevent my
inner self turning from quiet and calm into
A raging torrent of existential dread and my spirit
from acquiring a waiflike quality, moving between
states of consciousness, too confused to choose
between moments of being to settle quietly
Long enough to enjoy the delight of existence as
escape from non-being, it took a while to drag my
mind away from a feeling of guilt about this holiday
and the concomitant fear that a short escape
From my robotic existence at the office might corrupt
my heart to develop a passionate longing for freedom;
confident enough to skip over disturbing passages on
Reacher Gilt, I hate his guts; loving the excellent mind
Pratchett assigns to Vetinari, sharing his trait of loving
ideas as principles: music as signet ideals, staves on
paper, notes safely ensconced thereon with no attempt
at execution to spoil its pristine beauty - just like him
I adore romance as an ethereal ideal formulated in en-
chanting writing but not any attempt at execution which
always falls short changing the idea into a hopeless
Don Quixotic longing for the impossible…
Going Postal - Terry Pratchett - Doubleday 2004
Quoted from p.78
************************************* *************
Painful And Joyous Reading
The library open, a miracle found several
titles interesting, normally everything seems
boring, I'm courageous enough to tackle ‘
Briar Rose' about the Second World War
And sisters fighting in ‘When She Was Good'
hoping to find insight into my relationship with
my twin sis, I'm ready to face abandonment in
Lynne Markham's ‘Getting It Right'
And two lives intertwined in ‘Faith, Hope and Ivy
June' - being adventurous I also bought two books
at second hand book shops - Graham Hancock's
Underworld - Flooded Kingdoms of the Ice Age -
Blazing trails where unconventional Colin Wilson
fears to tread, and ‘Mars Mystery' with its theme of
precession and the solar system orbit and carousel
movement about the Milky Way Galaxy's
Black Hole centre; hours of painful and joyous reading
before me - now I have entered the spirit of this holiday!
***************************************** **********
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Miracle Disclosure (Revised)
Reading ‘Good Omens’ – Antichrist Adam Young and
his gang have fun with Tibetans and Flying Saucers –
in conjunction with The Science of Discworld which
‘David Attenboroughishly’ explains evolution as if it
were an already proven and therefore universally
accepted Gospel Truth – while it
is still only another childish theory, a speculative
hypothesis no better or worse than Creationism, but
creating the same reputation for itself by launching
attacks on other theories and posing as the Modern
Age equivalent of Miracle Disclosure; while ALL
these theories are illusion
made-up narratives explaining mysteries of existence
with no entitlement to claim any final revelation of the
true state – sanctimonious and condescending tones of
New Western Materialism sounds even worse than the
Middle Ages Inquisition – and in our universe ALL
being as speculative and unprovable as each other!
“Good Omens” – Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman,
Corgi Edition 1991
“The Science of the Discworld 1” Revised Edition
Jack, Pratchett, Terry, Stewart and Ian Cohen
Kindle – bought from Amazon
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Unleashed
Living in silence for eons,
He's planning the end for mankind
His eyes are ablaze with fury,
Venomous gaze is scorching us all
Feeling the stench of the carnage,
Sanctuary is wiped out and lost
The beast will announce it's arrival,
The moon turns bloodred,
The seas start to boil
Dreams of freedom perish and die
Sewing the seeds of death and decay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
The sky is darkening slowly
As he draws forth over the plains
Corroding our hearts with his hatred,
Barren and dead lies the ground
Where he has been
His sign will be seen on his chosen
Fire will fall from the sky
Black is the veil of destruction
The lamb lies dead, the grail is no more
Dreams of freedom perish and die
Sewing the seeds of death and decay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
Beware of the gaze of the serpent,
The evil can lead you astray
Feeling the blow of the trumpets,
The sky will fall down and life will decline
Dreams of freedom perish and die
Sewing the seeds of death and decay
Soaring up to the sky, demonic vultures fly
Unleashed at last he is stalking the earth,
Spreading chaos and dismay
song performed by by Zonata
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Than We Are
Came home singing, Sorrento, you said Here
comes Maria Von Trapp - little knowing that I
was being Leo Buscaglia, happy in knowing
about the Necrotelicomnicon* offering a Door
out of this World
I need these dreams because I had to check a
lease contract for my Calvinist colleague who
immediately queried every change I made – I
only did it because I am being paid; it has no
meaning to me
Whether the rental agreement stipulates lease
or rent or bank savings rates or bank rates for
savings; who cares, irrelevant – if she prefers
her own version I am happy to concur – why
ask me in the first place
She ought to know me by now, sounds are
important, not their dictionary meaning, the
sound IS the feeling, keep your definitions,
I will keep on singing, no need to let one
interfere with the other
The most important thing is to determine
whether I am Madame Butterfly, Carmen
or Christine; which role can I sing, how
far can we go, can we love like Leo
Buscaglia, can we
understand the difference between being
who we are - take up our own space or
try to be more than we are…
(Necrotelicomnicon - reference found in “Moving Pictures” – Terry Pratchett -
Corgi edition 1995, p.174)
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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A people and their religion must be judged by social standards based on social ethics. No other standard would have any meaning if religion is held to be necessary good for the well-being of the people.
quote by B.R. Ambedkar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Impromptu No.4 In A-Flat Major
Freedom to choose, oh yes, I can choose
to focus on translations - or write a poem
and delight in singing lines, feeling guilty
about my escape from tortuous life
I may not escape my job of grinding words
and lines, crunching melody, rhythm and
sound - leaving meaning only - which
pays the bills and buys pretty things
Reading discordant and dissonant texts
that hurt ears and eyes - but all choice
entails responsibility for consequence:
Who can be free in choosing between
the devil and the deep blue sea, why al-
ways negative outcomes irrespective of
choice? If you do you suffer, if you don't
you simply suffer another way
Freedom means choosing between all
kinds of suffering - whatever we do, the
result is guilt and misery, meaning we
can only choose how to deal with life
Smiling while praying for quick release or
cynically surrendering to life's vicissitudes
bowing in bitter resignation - freedom be-
comes a choice between attitudes
Acceptance or rejection of every condition,
it's tiring to be angry all the time, easier to
laugh, La Comédie Humaine is fun, we all
fall down and get up a million times
Crying would spoil the mask we wear, lay
our secret feelings bare - we can gravitate
towards laughter wherever it rings, as long
as we can resonate with its happiness
In spite of sinking in quicksand, we can sing,
until we are beheaded at the guillotine or
hung upon a cross, we can be as pious
or as raucous as we choose
I choose piety because it is more beautiful,
if our lives have to end in tragedy, I want
mine to please with harmonious lines -
listening to spiritual renditions of
Schubert - Impromptu No.4 in A-flat major,
Boccherini's Minuet, Debussy - Clair de
Lune - while taking leave of life to
continue existence somewhere
beyond Planet Earth
beyond this universe where visual forms
suppress the sound of metre and melody,
only one meaning allowed, symbols
reduced to define a reality
Stripped of all emotion, where association
and connotation are outlawed - we are
changed into a workforce bearing the
yoke of life while being robbed from
Imagination and feeling...
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Only The Good Die Young
The demon in your mind will rape you in your bed at night
The wisdom of ages the lies and outrages concealed
Time it waits for no man
My future is revealed
Time it waits for no man
My fate is sealed
If I cancel tomorrow the undead will thank me today
Fly in the space of your prophets I mock your morality plays
The moon is red and bleeding
The sun is burned and black
The book of life is silent
No turning back
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
Only the good die young
Mistery madman a victim of cruel charade
Some innocent pawn in an end game one more stalemate
Is death another birthday?
A way to kiss your dreams goodbey?
Do the undead live within us?
And look through our eyes?
Walking on water are mirarcles all you can trust
Measure your coffin does it measure up to your lust
So I think Ill leave you
With your bishops and your guilt
So until the next time
Have a good sin
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
All the evil seems to live forever
Only the good die young
Only the good die young
Seven deadly sins
Seven ways to win
Seven holy paths to hell
Seven downward slopes
Seven bloodied hopes
Seven are your burning fires
Seven you desires...
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost
Bored with reality's exciting facets
rolled up, emotion stashed out of
sight, only the lone aspect of duty
in the office unrolled, dealing with
a headache I climbed onto desks
to spread sunscreens because the
oblique angle of the sun means we
are fried every day and my dwarf
head can't stand much heat before
it melts - taking my intellect with it
I fired my imagination by reading
the next pages of ‘Making Money'
with scenes of havoc where Adora
Belle challenges a Golem known as
Gladys to use etiquette for dirty boot
Watchmen to open the safe - no use,
I can't leave the multifaceted reel of
fantasy to continue with bland white
reality hiding all colourful aspects
crossing my boredom threshold
I want to be the prism breaking up
the uniform white rays of reality into
their constituent colours and enjoy
the images on my mental screen be-
cause the headache does not want
to abate and I have lost the faculty
of logic and rational thought
‘Making Money' by Terry Pratchett
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Midnight Man
By dickey betts, warren haynes
Copyright 1991 sony music entertainment, inc.
Transcribed by ed luskey
Got my snake skin britches, alligator shoes,
Money in my pocket, and a memphis attitude.
Wear my downtown stetson with a silver on the crown,
When I get started rolling baby, there aint no slowin me down.
Im your midnight man, guaranteed to love you like nobody can.
Im your midnight man, if you dont know by now, somehow Im gonna make you understand,
Im your midnight man and I love you till the daylight babe.
Got my six shooter, gonna shoot it up in the air,
If it feels real good, I might shoot it just everywhere.
Got my best mojo, and my hoochie coochie too,
Gonna put it all together gonna get after you
Im your midnight man, guaranteed to love you like nobody can.
Im your midnight man, if you dont know by now, somehow Im gonna make you understand,
Im your midnight man and I love you till the daylight babe.
One things for certain since I been foolin with you,
My reputations hurtin and I dont know what to do.
All of my little downtown girls, say Im wasting time,
There aint no use to fight it, I just cant get you outta my mind.
Im your midnight man, guaranteed to love you like nobody can.
Im your midnight man, if you dont know by now, somehow Im gonna make you understand,
Im your midnight man, and I love you till the daylight babe.
Hey, midnight, midnight man.
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Us Pray Islam Will Avoid A Religious Dark Age
Let us pray Islam will avoid a religious dark age
a dark age like Spanish Inquisition Christianity
Middle East Islam attempts to overthrow dictators
pray Islam may avoid an evil inquisition campaign
torture mutilation mass murder destruction errors
Pray Islam avoids an Inquisition era of Terrorism.
Inquisitors of any religion are abomination to God.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poem ‘An Evolution Of Javanese Religion? ’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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O, People
O, people
O, what are they living for?
They stay till midnight
Say there’s no enough time
And afraid what’ll happen tomorrow
O, people
How many faces they should wear
To show pride and to hide
Don’t reveal dark inside
Fake emotion, many crying are naught
So is this how the world’s spinning?
Ignore what we are feeling
Take you want, leave me none
Give me love then the pain
Never know when the truth is lie
O, people
Why are they hard to understand?
They argue long then they fight
Say they who should be right
Give me almighty reason to blame
O, people
When will they try to remember?
Want to learn from mistake
Listen what others said
So we could live in peace together
So how will this story be end?
Will I be trapped in another game?
Or like the moon can’t be full again
But somehow I just understand
That life always goes on circle
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Laissez-Faire Despair
I measure my state of depression by the books I am able to read,
when it becomes impossible to enjoy any hilarious romp by Terry
Pratchett, when Ecclesiastes and Proverbs are the only reading
material with any relevance - my mental gyroscope has come to
a standstill
As noise irritates me more and pressure is forcing me out of my
head and all I want is darkness, silence and death, it is time to
take drastic steps to feel better again, as I waft about in a smell
of Vicks VapoRub and swallow coloured pills by the handful
hour after hour
And start to hate and despise all forms of consciousness and life,
seeking the meaning of existence as opposed to happy non-being,
it is time to visit a quack to obtain poisonous concoctions and life-
shortening toxins to take the seasonal discomfort away, to stop
the disease
Which leads straight to the nihilism of laissez-faire despair
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Stifle not the reader
Reading is an art,
reading is a tool.
Those who think it dumb,
must be such a fool.
Reading is enjoyment,
reading is a blast.
Reading is a separate entity
from the future and the past.
Reading is done in present,
though written in a tense.
Reading is about life,
in surprise or suspense.
Reading is a place of joy,
full of hope and song,
Reading is a place I feel
that I truly do belong.
A trapdoor to a fantasy,
A world thought lost to us,
Reading is a place of wonder,
a place that we can trust.
Why read about reality,
when I can delve into magic.
Why stifle my own happiness,
with scenarios so tragic.
Stifle not the reader,
for it is their choice alone.
Reading is an outlet,
for hearts that turned to stone.
Displacement
Just finished rereading “Wee Free Men” introducing
Tiffany, displacing suffocating allergic reaction due to
culinary indulgence by diving into the enchantment of
Terry Pratchett’s wonderful prose
Did not want the book to end, the story should continue
for eternity… sometimes I try to leave the land of dreams,
Tiffany found dreams were used to lead people astray –
then I eat things that make my life miserable
And remember why transcending reality is necessary, I
cannot give up the rearrangements I make since living in
physical discomfort is counterproductive; dreams enable
me to experience marvellous adventures
Which cannot exist in my little world and although I would
like to be practical and impress with my common sense, it
is impossible to stay within the boring inter-subjective con-
sensus we call reality, even when clever people say
It is irresponsible and childish to let the mind stray from the
life at hand - I will not give up this delight to impress anybody,
the joy of creative fantasy outweighs all arguments offered by
people with deep frowns and drooping mouths
As the virtues they try to urge on me left them feeling cheated
and bitterly disappointed, I see no reason to join their misery if
I can do my job adequately with several other worlds spinning
wildly in my mind and heart
“The Wee Free Men” – Terry Pratchett – Doubleday 2003
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Meaning Of The Salvation Army Crest
As we look at our flag. Let's remember what the meaning crest is,
Here we go let's as a Salvationist let's see if we can pass this quiz,
Can we think of what makes up the Crest?
Well let's all try to pass this, so let's do our best.
What is the meaning of the Cross?
The cross of the Lord Jesus Christ as he hung, before they took Him to His final doss.
What is the meaning of the S?
The S stands for the Salvation from sin through Jesus.
What is the meaning of the Ray on the outside of the circle?
The Ray stands for the Fire of the Holy Spirit in one day will lead us to something wonderful.
What is the meaning of the dots?
The dots stand for the Truth of the Gospel; this is something we need to hear because at times we do not care a jot.
What is the meaning of the crossed swords?
The Cross swords stand for the Salvation War, and it is something we need to protect our gourds.
What is the meaning of the red for the blood and the yellow for the fire?
The Blood stands for the Blood Jesus Shed, and the Fire stands for the Fire of the Holy Spirit because this was Williams Booth's desire.
Well I hope we all either recall the S. A.‘s history or learned something from reading this today,
Because this will get us back to our old beliefs and our past and let us understand of what they are trying to say.
poem by Frank Pulver
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Holy Coincidence
Just saying
When you're hearing the same thing
Everyone is talking about identity
What it mean to be me
To be who God us to be
It's like God is trying to bring up that issue
The thing I've hidden beneath my skin, hid deep within the tissue
The thing I've tried to run from my whole life, if you can call it that
The thing I've compartmentalized
The lies I crystallized
I thought it was over, I thought it wasn't important what made me, me
Why does it matter when I'm evil, when God sees who I can be
What part of me is good, what parts evil, is there any good
Can anything good come from this, don't you see it
Don't you see the overwhelming darkness, heartless pit
Maybe that is not what I should
Think or see, but how could I not? Did I not earn
The hatred that I have come to yearn
For, to not be able to imagine life without, and not imagine life at all
I thought we were done, I thought I could just forget
Just saying
Why is everyone talking to me about this?
Why are the passage I'm reading, the books I'm reading
The discussions I'm hearing, why this and why that
Why here and why not
Why, why, why
If it wasn't important then why
Could this just be coincidence?
Could it be pure randomness?
I do not know
If even close to coincidence I see God is trying to do something
Through me
To me
For me
Me
This feels
This seems
This appears
Selfish
Evil
Because it's me
I don't want to know about this identity
But I guess You won't let me forget
I guess I can't really say it's coincidence it's You speaking to me
But if in any it is, let me tell you
That's one freaking
Holy coincidence
poem by David Knox
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If I Prayed with You
if i prayed with you
meshed together by the naked night
molten images of human groaning
lit by the very breath of God...
if i prayed with you
turning slowly on the spit
beneath the shadows we wear in darkness
and wrap our light inside...
if i prayed with you
nothing hidden, nothing faked
and stroked your face with knowing hands
as if the Painter's brush....
if i prayed with you
and was lost inside your hungry mouth...
would you dance with me inside
the meaning beyond our words?
if i prayed with you...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Religion, mysticism and magic all spring from the same basic "feeling" about the universe: a sudden feeling of meaning, which human beings sometimes "pick up" accidentally, as your radio might pick up some unknown station. Poets feel that we are cut off from meaning by a thick, lead wall, and that sometimes for no reason we can understand the wall seems to vanish and we are suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of the infinite interestingness of things.
quote by Colin Wilson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Definition Of Freedom
what a simple word.
sweet to the lips yet costs to attain. Who amongst u is really free
Do u even know what it is to be free?
What is ur definition of freedom?
Is it being loose and giving ur body to anyone withiout consensus?
Then how do u percieve feeedom?
Is it despising morals, ethics, respect and correction?
Is that ur meaning of Freedom?
Let me break it down for u.
Freedom, my Freedom, our freedom. Freedom is knowing the extents to wich God went to save ur life but still have respect for humanity.
Freedom is knowing that u don live under law but grace and still cling to this grace.
Freedom is to know that ur records of wrongs have been erased but u still strive for perfecion.
Freedom, My Freedom, Our Freedom.
My freedom is not a vote.
My freedom is not a govt designed system and terminology but My Freedom is the son of God. My Freedom is he who overcame death.
My Freedom is he who was before the beggining began. Freedom My Freedom Our Freedom is Jesus.
poem by Mbaimbai Phathutshedzo
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