Art Work in the Windy City
W.B.Yeats
1865-1939
‘Cast a cold Eye
On Life, on Death.
Horseman, pass by!’
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
Waking
I hope I will always wake in tulip sunshine
among the fragrance of green grass
growing near flowing rivers
while breakfast sizzles in
cast iron skillets
with biscuits
on cobalt
blue
plates.
If this
goes away
in my memory
and leaves me for
another day in changed
places, I want to still wake
in tulip sunrise and still smell
the coffee brew to another time but let
not the reciting bobwhites forget to sound; so I will always remember.
copyright: CMM 2005
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
Eagle and Child Inkling 