A Different Kind Of Life [rev.] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

My text's a menacing threat - each time I
open it my head shrinks & my brain flees,
yet I've researched everything, looked up
every term, analysing synonyms - even
searched identical lines on the Internet

When reading sentences arrhythmically
phrased to convey fact, my heart stops;
seeking a guru's help: "Be spontaneous,
use old words in new ways to free them
from their frozen and limiting effects

Weave sentences another way to open
hearts, don't cater for the mind" -What
is to be done, I've got it all wrong given
my phrasing like iced lead - after trying
to follow rules I feel like a rotten fool

Although my text isn't spiritual, neither
is it a ringing success of the intellect, to
me everything sounds wrong - all of it,
how can I switch off feeling, bury ME
to see whether these terms are true?

I wasted my youth wearying my eyes
by looking at words in books instead
of contemplating the joyous aspects
of creation, how to carry on - we all
grow old in the new Millennium

MORE intellectual work is required -
but I dream of a different kind of life…

[6 October 2014]