Red Pain Of Raw Realism Poem by Margaret Alice

I have read Graham Hancock and Zecharia Sitchin,
David Wilcock and Robert Beauval, though bewitching
my mind, I can still return after reading them; this year I
reread the stories of my youth – Stella Blakemore with
her ideas of nobility and ideas grandiose, and my brain
went completely haywire

The shame remains of asking our German Professor
what he thought of someone obscure, quite unaware
the author had no standing in literature - the Times
Literary Supplement made it very clear only authors
suffering cynical depression while creating negative
realism without ideals, qualify for academic laurels

So I discard literature, concentrating on fairy tales,
myths and legends - once realism is introduced,
the magic is lost; for let-down cynicism I simply
watch the news, no need to wade through
Balzac or Henry James to feel
the red pain of raw realism

scorching my brain…