Second City
Second City
“What strange phenomena we find in a great city, all we need do is stroll about with our eyes open. Life swarms with innocent monsters.”
― Charles Baudelaire
All Hallow’s Eve
A season of change…
Is the night of ghost and goblins
near as frightful as the days.
coming from the battled streets,
crying from the warriors haze.
Crisp the humid fallen golden,
tis moist and wetting dew.
Comes the flowing ghost and goblins
hallooing from behind the stew.
Yet the truth be more the scarier
dying souls of sand pit graves.
Hence we need to be more mindful
battling through mayhem waves.
Yes this season of the Hallow,
souls and saints remembered here.
While the innocent still living,
live within the streets of fear.
Pray the saints we beckon this,
a night of memory, night of fright.
Soon the only horror faced,
is just the tales of all hallows night.
copyrighted: 2004 CMM
Yeats’ Questionnaire
He thought it was anonymous
I dare say it was not.
For history, time, and well intent
His soul long gone, body has rot.
The pages now among the bards
in halls and glass for history.
They have displayed all your answers
for poets like me to read your mysteries.
Harvard and Cambridge so inquired
You trusted and did reply
But the disclaimer at the top
Time has now denied.
© Christine McNeill-Matteson
Aliens for Breakfast
The world of books
takes little boys
to know the
imaginary world.
Everything
impossible, and all magical
sits down to
play in pretend worlds.
copyright: CMM 2000
A Poem
If I wrote among the willows would the earth receive my tears ?
Would the roots gather moisture and return the pain of years ?
If I dry my tears with ashes and wipe my anguish with moss,
would the day seem less melancholy and the passing less a loss ?
Be with me a moment and I will gather in the rain
All the earth of my humanity and the lightening of my pain …
copyrighted: CMM 2014
Ferris Wheel
Crayola Colors, bright red, yellow and blue,
round in circles of me and you
All the beginnings are reflected inside
as I watch and I listen to the Ferris wheel ride.
The seats they wobble with you front and back,
don’t look down and buckle the rack.
I love to watch and listen and smell
the time of the Ferris wheel, I remember well.
True loves in height and tumultuous times
Defined by the nickels we paid for the climbs
As we trusted a ride, we would never forget
Arm in arm, hand in hand lovers, we sat.
The Ferris wheel days of cotton candy and games
Hope and promise blended and all seemed the same
As the day before or the day to come
The days of the Ferris Wheel, at the setting sun.
copyrighted: 2014 CMM
Sunrise (Summer Solstice
Sunrise
Morning on the shores brings you back to the place where
you can realize sunrise
in sequential order of
light, flight and the rush of tides…
Copyright: CMM 2014
Bleached white and muted grey wood line
Covered with spots of unthawed snow,
Patches of green grass left from summer.
The smoky grey morning clouds hang heavy
As the morning light breaks into a shadow cast.
Winter has taken hold into arctic temperatures
And still nature stays attentive to coming storms.
Sitting at my desk I am taken aback as one brave
Bird dares to break the silence and sing of spring
Friends For LIfe
I shared with her my plans and schemes,
she shared with me her hopes and dreams.
Together we grew and then apart,
but apart we never forgot the start.
The start of what would one day be
a friendship for life, as we look back to see.
Mistakes we made and mountains we climbed,
didn’t take away the precious times.
We had when we were young and foolish,
dressed in hippie and rock style goolish.
Play house tucked between two trees,
went from ‘make believe’ to club house fees.
Cokes spilt as it fizzed to the top,
not being able to find the mop.
Burning pots in our effort to cook,
parents stood and trembled and shook.
The skating rink, and many a miles
as we skated and danced with youthful smiles.
The teen club, with all its rocking songs,
giving us a sense that we belonged.
Belonged of a generation confused from war,
with racial strife the turmoil we bore.
Our days became families and then children to rear,
the days we lived, the battles we feared.
From growing up in uncertain times,
didn’t seem to change or deter our minds.
From returning to what was always to be
a friend close in time we’d see.
The treasures of childhood, the journey or strife
is always best accompanied by a friend for life.
copyright: CMM 2005
Eagle and Child Inkling 