Inner World On Fire Poem by Margaret Alice Second

You ever read a book until your eyes
refused to focus - but you pushed on,
squinting and adjusting your glasses,
until you had a headache when you
put it down?

A book bringing vistas of intense colour,
sharper images in stunning landscapes
with scent of agelessly eternal incense,
where sweet-smelling joy of endless beauty
awaits your return, everything unchanged,
only needing reanimation of your fantasy,
concentration and mood

The more open you are, the more the
story lives and you see nothing in reality
comes close - it is always changing, too
open-wide, everyone's is free to change,
make up their own mind, only in fictional
choices are you in charge, can keep the
story unchanged, or make it yours by

Rewriting if you care to, or reading it in
different ways; the point is joy is in your
own hands, your interpretation less any
other's hiding inside the equation…

I respect other's freedoms to do and
choose what they want therefore true
happiness is found in the loops we put
into reality, without changing anything
for anybody else, only in stories I find
edifices standing irrespective of other's
changing ideas, my mind returns to an
unchanging landscape, pristine & grand,
nobody can change it except me

Isn't it great, the best way to live one's
life, holding onto the iron grid of ice-cold
reality while ensconced in warm dreams
carousel-riding out of reality, to return
energised and ready to accept more cold
outlines while our inner world is on fire

10 March 2013


[ORIGINAL]

Ever read a book until your eyes went out of focus, till
you have a headache when you put the book down -
which took you to an eternal, unchanging place where
colours are more intense, images sharper, landscape
beautiful, smelling of incense, eternal, only feelings
required to animate all the images?

The more open you are, the more the story comes alive,
you realise nothing in reality can come close because every-
body is free to make up their own mind; in fictional alternatives
you are in charge, keep the story unchanged or rewrite to make
it yours, reading in various ways if you care to, the joy in your
own hands, interpretation with nobody else in the equation

Respecting other people's freedom to choose what they want
means true happiness is in the loops we create to leave inter-
subjective reality without changing anything for anyone else,
only in stories do we find edifices standing irrespective of other
people's ideas, my mind returns to an unchanging landscape,
pristine and grand, nobody can change it except myself

Isn't it the best way to live one's life, holding onto the iron
grid of the ice-cold hologram of reality while ensconced in
the warm dreams that take us on carousel rides out of the
cold so we return energised, ready to accept some more
of the cold outlines - while our inner world is on fire?