We have but a second before the rest of the world intrudes,

the mind told me.  Vacancy signs will soon be erected in place

of total surrender but don’t be fooled, all is not safe.  We have

so much to lose in a nation of sheep, free thought and will is

at war again amongst the natives.  Focus on the facts, keep

your emotions in check and use me, the mind proffered me.

All that is shiny is not always good and all that is given is

not free.  Don’t lose yourself amongst the herd, watch out

for the wolves and strive to keep watch over those with little

inclination to protect themselves.  Once the world has reached

us, all is certain to implode.



Memory and desire, stirring…whirling my emotions into a frenzy creating

a free fall of chaotic proportions.  With the tides of change in time I have changed,

no longer that which I used to be or that you would expect of me to be.  In grief I sit,

mourning a loss I lost myself.  Our time is past and knowing this only makes

the process ties the knots inside that much tighter.  Its nothing new but that I knew

I had to start this journey of walking parallel to you versus beside you.  I have to live

without you and just be me, easier said than done.  Painting the picture that I am

okay to let the passerby’s know that I’m alright with this path is harder than you’ll

ever know in my experience anyway.  My brush is tired and I am weary of maintaining

this facade for another day.  I am not alright and time will be the only judge of that but

I hold to the hope that what is meant to be includes you with me.  Hope is all I have

when memories and startling desire invade my mind.


Thoughts on being motherless

Thoughts on being motherless on Mother’s Day.

We’re all born to someone, some are cuddled and loved,

others not so much.  Mother’s Day comes hard for me

as I have no mother to celebrate.  She birthed me,

raised me and hurt me every chance she got.  I can now

forgive her but its been a long lonely road since 2007

when I broke the link between us.  I’ve been a gypsy

ever since, when you break the link between you and your

birth family, a part of you gets lost and you never really

recover it.   But I did it for my mental health and have never

regretted the decision.  I do miss my family most of the time

and find them plaguing my nightmares and daily thoughts.

I’ve never really written about it before as I try not to think

about it.  I have a great mother-in-law but she is not the

cuddles kind of person and I don’t mind that.  I say Happy

Mother’s Day out of respect but that motherly need runs

unfulfilled.  I will always wonder if she is still alive, does she

miss me too, is she sorry for what she did?  I can’t answer

those questions so I need to let them be.  I need to move

on and starting today, feeling as crappy as I do on holidays,

I’m ready to do so.  I have to move on and I will.  I miss you

mom, I still love you as much as a daughter ever could but

I’m letting you go, I forgive your transgretions and wish you

a peaceful existence.

M. Willcox

Tikki and Barbara Lurie.

Tikki and Barbara Lurie.

Behind the lens I am hidden,

my thoughts and actions meld

into one being.  I am focused

and alert, ever ready for the next

great shot.  I watch unseen as

the world parades by and am

grateful for the anonymity it

provides, everyone looks at the

camera never wondering who

is behind it.  I could live

behind the camera and never be

seen except for the work I

aspire to display.  I want the world

to feel my photos and live in them.

I long to be sentient and record the

history around me, to go down with

the greats and be remembered for

my photos only, they will last a lifetime

as I will not.

M. Willcox

No sleep for the wicked….


Snakes and devils plague my dreams,

screaming and shouting at the devil to

get back and leave my head, waking up

in a sweat soaked place and afraid to

close my eyes once more.  I wish

you all gone, leave this place where

I might find solace and peaceful slumber.

I can’t go on like this, some of us have

a life in the waking hours and I can’t afford

to miss mine just because I don’t sleep

like a mindless baby, ignoring all the

bad and keeping the good instead.

Morning hours are for doing not

sleeping, I was always told, yet

I find myself the most blissful

sleep there ever could be when

the sun comes up.  Perhaps I was

supposed to be a vampire, sleeping

in when others are awake and awake

when others are asleep.  Oh sleep

how I miss your good moments, come

back and tell me its not all for nought,

tell me I’ll close my eyes and not see

beyond the veil of death ever again.

M. Willcox

I’m having horrible nightmares and wake up screaming for things to get off me,

I’m always afraid to go to sleep now.

The Trigger…


My last line of a 30 day

stretch has to be epic,

take the breath and leave

them wanting more.  I

can’t expect anything less

than perfection after honing

a craft for so long.

Practice makes perfect and

sets in motion the obsession.

I must write to keep the

darkness at bay and look

with light at my deepest


Line will keep me anchored and

attached to this reality as my

head tends to float in water.

Lofty ideas have their hooks in me

and I’m not afraid to explore and take

them to the next level of


A violin plays in the

background and I have no

other recourse but to fall

in love with every note.

In 30 days, we’ve come

so far and I’m not turning back

the time to where I was before,

I’m facing forward and those

in motion tend to stay in motion.

A motion I will continue.  A spark

I cannot ignore.

Notes carry me all the way to the

words that flow from my fingers.

The last line of a 30 day stretch

has to be…perfect.  It has to feel

right and end on a fair motive,

violin dies and silence

ensues as Stevie Nicks is on the

Edge of Seventeen.

Blues accompanies her and allows my

thoughts to flow at a slower pace,

taking me deep into those dark

abscesses that cry for release

as a guitar is pouring my soul

out in its strings.  The last line

has to provide resolve or

it questions forever and denies

tranquility.  In 30 days I

have poured my heart

and soul into the words

that come from my fingertips,

they roll off the tip of the tongue

and give flesh and blood to the

bone weary that I am.  The last line

has to be….brave.
M. Willcox (photo by M. Willcox)

Day 30 – Poetry Gone Wild – NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015

I will seriously miss this….and you all 😉

2x Dare

I dared to challenge myself to something

I’ve not done in a long while.  To share

the gory bits  when you have PTSD is a harder thing

to come by even when its with people

you care for.  Sharing with strangers

(now friends), is a much harder thing

to wrap one’s brain around.


In daring to take this challenge (with myself),

I’ve rediscovered something that once took

the pressure off and let the words heal instead

of hurt.  I am full of life and its been a long time

since I’ve lived or allowed myself to do so.

With the will to do so in drive, I can go

anywhere my fingers take me.


I now double dare myself to overcome my obstacles

and bring about positive changes to my worm

eaten existence and grow something anew in the

form of light and lines and words.  By 2016

I shall be a blossoming tree of light and life

in full view for all that care to see and swoon.

Reanimation is coming soon!


M. Willcox

Day 28 – This Poem Has a Mission – NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015

First art piece by James Jean, the last two are mine.

My second and final entry for the day.  I was thinking three stanzas were three lines,

my brain finally kicked in gear and I was like, D’oh!  So heres the real thing.

Again, thanks all for helping to burst my bubble (in a good way).