Thursday, January 18, 2018

THE WEDDING

...And now the plans have come together,
Preparations finalized.
Every deadline met its match;
Every detail, its condition.

The crowd of friends
And fond relations, fanning in anticipation,
Waiting to be entertained
By ceremony and tradition.

Dirges played on organ, though
You wish they'd choose a happy tune
To celebrate the grand occasion.
Solemnity is such a bore.

You snap the children to attention
Whose fidgeting becomes obsessive,
Give a nudge to Grandpa just
Before his wheeze becomes a snore.

Now all the waiting's over as
The wedding march fills up the air.
All rise to view the party as the
Toothy smiles grow ear to ear.

The nervous groom mysteriously appears
And waits before the altar
As father fills his chest with pride
And mom fights back a single tear.

And now a vision dressed in white
Floats softly down her aisle of dreams
To seek a hand filled with her own
And make a vow to never part.

Two people who have found each other...
Two lives which now reside as one...
Two into one: a solemn promise.
Two souls together of one heart.


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Wednesday, January 17, 2018

AFTERLIFE

I can't help but wonder
What awaits in afterlife;
Can't believe we simply die
And that's the end; the final step.
The spirit, the soul,
If they truly exist,
Must be carried off to
A higher plain which can't
Be seen by mortal eyes,
Much like the light at the
Edge of the spectrum,
Reaching to levels beyond our vision,
Waiting to reveal itself when
At last we shed this mortal coil.

Where do we go?
No one knows.
No mortal has been there
Then come back to tell.
Call it Heaven if you like;
A place where peaceful souls may dwell.

Whatever waits in afterlife,
Whatever consciousness abides,
Will be a new adventure
When we finally reach the other side.



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Tuesday, January 16, 2018

BUILDER OF DREAMS

It's a feeling that consumes you;
Deep within your inner soul
It grows from seeds sewn long ago,
Expanding to excessive measure.

Tall ship glides into your harbor;
Regal as her masts undress
And rest a while, lashed to your pier
Awaiting orders to set sail.

You, her captain, store her ballast.
You approve her manifest.
You alone must chart her course
And choose the sea she rides upon.

Destination at your bidding,
Sun and moon, the stars to guide as
Open seas unfold before you
And your crew unfurls her sails.

Favoring breezes build your hope
Preparing you for stormy seas.
Hope, your first mate, scans horizons
Searching to fulfill your dreams.


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Monday, January 15, 2018

THE THINGS WE TAKE FOR GRANTED

I can wake up in the morning
And walk down the stairs
Because I have feet which
Will carry me there.

I can watch television
Or read a good book
Because I have eyes which
Allow me to look.

I can speak to you
And hear your reply.
My ears catch your question.
My voice tells you why.

I can reach out and touch you,
And stroke your hair;
Let my fingertips tell you
Just how much I care.

These marvelous senses;
A joy to behold;
To take them for granted
Is callously cold.


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Sunday, January 14, 2018

MOONSHOT AND BEYOND

I envy those who have been to the moon;
The chosen few who have touched her soil,
And viewed first-hand the earth in it's glory,
Set on a canvas of dark lonely space.

One might imagine the exhilaration,
The rush of adrenaline speeding the heart
Until breathing shortens or stops altogether,
And the awe of its grandeur reflects on your face.

The pause is but a moment or two
And the task of survival quickly returns.
But the realization of how tiny we are
Gives new meaning to our humdrum lives.

This platform is a portal to a galaxy beyond
Where every possibility resides...
Where man is but a player who's part is yet unknown...
Where mystery exists and hope survives.


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Saturday, January 13, 2018

THE PLAY IS THE THING

Nestled in a darkened room.
My feet pulled back beneath the chair
Meant to avoid late-coming traffic of
Those too unfeeling to arrive on time.
Ploying my neighbor to wrestle the armrest,
A respite of comfort as evening advances.
Straining to read the last lines of the program;
Looking for hints of what may lie ahead.
Patience thins with the slightest delay
As anticipation stands on its toes
And stretches and strains to be
Launched on its journey,
Longing to see which direction it goes.

The overture starts as the crowd becomes hushed and
Familiar melodies fill the room...
A sour note from a horn breaks the air as
Peripheral motion is spied in the wing...
The crowd settles in with focused attention,
Awaiting the miracle yet to unfold as
The night becomes magic, reality fades,
The stage fills with life and
The play is the thing.


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Friday, January 12, 2018

MONEY, MOOLAH, DOLLAR BILLS

Would it be trite for me to say that
Money is of no importance?
After all, we must transact
The basics of society,
And since the sense of simple barter
Is antiquated in our time,
Seems little else is useful in
Acquiring life's necessities.
Sad that it's become the driving force
Of all ambition's quest.
Sad replacement for the values
Honor gave nobility.
Graven image placed on altars,
Worshiped as a god on high,
Crass excuse, when all else fails,
For loss of sensibility.
Would that times were simpler,
When hope lived steadfast in each heart,
And life was not a mockery of
Blaming others for our ills.
When the art of living off the land
Was still a possibility,
And life was not a cutthroat game of
Money, moolah, dollar bills.


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Thursday, January 11, 2018

WHY DO I WRITE?

Weaving lace with words and phrases
Is a craft I've known since childhood.
Finding subtleness in language;
Romantic eccentricities.
Twisting metaphoric diction
As the ink flows onto page,
Filling, flooding, overflowing-
Miles and miles of deep emotion.
New twists.,
Old twists,
Trite distinctions,
Flavoring, savoring conversations
Dulled by enigmatic charm.
Afraid to harm linguistic manners,
Searching, striving for the next
Euphoric phrase meant to impress.
Never quite as comfortable with
Confrontations face to face.
Preference yields to empty pages
There before me to complete.
Conversations live but moments.
The written word knows no defeat.


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Wednesday, January 10, 2018

A FEW MORE DAYS OF WINTER

The ground hog has performed His task,
Prognosticating Winter's slow demise
Into a kinder gentler forum
For the weather-weary.

Days begin to show more hope as
Sunlight tends to linger more
And skies of Winter gray begin to
Shed their mask of dreariness
To shades of blue and puffy white,
Riding on the wind of change;
Looking to be rid of frost,
To chase away cruel Winter's bite.

Unpredictability seems
More the norm than usual and
No one knows what new surprise
Is waiting with the light.

Nodding off at evening wondering
What tomorrow's light may bring.
A few more days of Winter
'Til the sweet respite of Spring.


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Tuesday, January 09, 2018

THE QUESTION

He had no idea he'd be asking the question.
It came as a shock;
A total surprise.
As if someone else's voice was escaping his
Lips, taking control of his mind.

Some haunting ancient apparition
Entering into his thoughts,
Guiding to a new commitment;
Two hearts deeply intertwined.

Now the night is deftly quiet.
Everything to say is said.
Except for one last burning issue
Which has waited patiently
For conversation's intersection,
The perfect point of interjection,
From his soul escapes the question,
"Darling, will you marry me?"


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Monday, January 08, 2018

MOTHER... PACING

How many evenings yesteryear did
I stretch deep into the night?
Burning off the energy which,
In those days, seemed without bounds;
Bending rules with laughter until
Daybreak nearly caught me in the act
Of cheating tender sleep.
I tread on stony ground.

Time was nothing way back then,
And night was merely lightless day.
My candlewicks were double-edged
As Mother paced the night away.
No lectures or conjecture when
My footsteps tiptoed past her door.
Three simple words, "Are you alright?"
No need to question any more.

But I could see the telltale signs,
The lines of worry hid from sight,
The deep concern she tried to mask;
Mother... Pacing through the night.


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Sunday, January 07, 2018

SIBLINGS

Lord, have mercy on the only child
Who's never known the discovery
Encamped within a combat zone;
The thrill of sibling rivalry.
The crazy love / hate dinner date
That dances unromantic circles
'Til it forms a bond so strong
That pry bars cannot separate.
All too often goes unnoticed;
Pity when it goes unsaid;
Pride -  Or simple foolishness stands
In the way 'til it's too late.
Even though the miles between
Grow distant with the passing years,
The bond remains in memories so
Intricately intertwined
That time cannot erase the easeled
Portraits of our youth.
The sun-drenched grapes of yesterday
Mellowed sweetly in the wine.


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Saturday, January 06, 2018

LOVE LETTERS

I can't believe you kept my old love letters;
Tucked away in a box like some forgotten treasure.
I scarcely dare to think "Who was that young
And daring fool
Who spread himself so unabashedly,
With such full measure;
Who opened up so blatantly
The secrets held inside
And spread them out onto the pages
For just your eyes to see."
All the private hopes and dreams;
Desires to be fulfilled;
All the dreams which we both knew
Were somehow meant to be.
We were young and we were foolish
Filled with floods of youth's desires,
Warmed by longings, fueled by hope,
Hearts ablaze with passion's fires.
Now you sit there on the floor
Reading every single line
As if it were the first time through.
All is new as you relive
Each paragraph as they unfold
To kiss a tearful eye...
And I, your silent sentinel,
Am left to wonder why.


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Friday, January 05, 2018

I TRULY BELIEVE...

...and these things I truly believe.
...that the sun will arise in the morning
       To caress the essence of midnight dew.
...that the trees grow much taller than I am.
...that the robin's song is always new.
...that the heavens are drenched with an artist's pallet
       When evening's sun sinks low.
...that you and I are forever, and that's
       All that we need to know.
...that the children are our future.
Teach them well.
Give them heart    
Show them truth.
All we are upon reaching adulthood
Are the things that we learned in our youth.
...that the yearning which comes from inside of us all
Is the passion, which shows us the way.
...that the caution which bids us  to strive to survive
Gives us pause to reflect and obey.
...that my life would be hollow without you.
...that it's meaning would soon fade away.
Facing east, we both search for the sunlight...
Side by side we await the new day.


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Thursday, January 04, 2018

DARK SECRETS

Every closet is filled with secrets,
Shadowy ghosts from a distant past
Kept locked away from prying eyes
As though revelation will destroy
The pristine perception we serve up as image,
Not wishing to show our seamier side,
Not wanting the world to think too unkindly
The fact that we may have something to hide.

Where do secrets go when unspoken?
Why do we utter in whispers so low
That only one set of ears captures their caption?
Why speak at all if no one should know?

The truth of the matter...
The proof in the pudding...
The secret of secrets is
Hidden like gold.
Secrets... Dark secrets
Are only a myth,

And no one knows of them
Until they are told.


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Wednesday, January 03, 2018

EXPLORING

Babies are funny when they first discover
That they have toes.
Although they have no idea
What they're for;
These strange appendages
Dangling helplessly, uselessly,
Somehow remotely attached.
Must be a nipple or something to suckle,
So, first opportunity, into the mouth.

Naturally, time will reveal their true purpose;
The marvelous sights and adventures in store
When a child finally learns
That a foot is for walking,
And finds that first step which opens the door
To a world of excitement;
A world fully new;
A trek across time to where learning begins;
A wondrous journey
Filled with amazement,
Where exploration never ends.


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Tuesday, January 02, 2018

THE NEXT HILL

I wonder what's over there, Chris Columbus.
What marvelous tale of adventure could be
Holding the gold, which is there for the taking;
The unabashed thrill of discovery.

Treacherous oceans offer no boundary
To those who are born with inquisitive minds.
Accepting the challenge, our hero sets sail
To the ends of the universe, only to find
That there is no end, only a bend,
Or a corner to turn to the next great adventure.
By now he is hooked and can never turn back
'Til completing the quest which began his indenture..

Green fields may call him to peace in the valley,
The creature of age may dampen his will,
But nothing on earth will quench his desire
To take up the gauntlet;
To climb the next hill.

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Monday, January 01, 2018

THE GARDEN

Stepping out into the green of the garden
My mind is a rush of olfactory senses
Mixing and mingling here in my head
'Til the fragrance of June and July come together.

The lilac trees which grace her borders,
Long since shed of their luscious bloom
Which captured the evening air of April
And left the most wonderful feeling of freshness,
Now only offering gentle reminders of
Springtime's renewal, bursting with energy
Sprung from the earth as the product of sunshine
And raindrops reviving a cold winter's sleep.

I bend and brush aside tender young foliage
Revealing the sweetness it hides from the sunlight.
My eyes are full moons surprised to discover
Tomatoes ripening there on the vines.
Anxious to pluck, to devour it's juices, yet
Finding restraint to wait just one more day
'Til its redness is full, it's flavor complete.
I pluck a blade of grass instead.

Standing and stretching, I reach for the treetops,
Taking in volumes of crisp morning air.
Finding a treasure that gold cannot purchase.
A secret to share... A promise to keep.


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Sunday, December 31, 2017

HANDICRAFT

We were truly amazed at
The parcel we received from mother,
Overstuffed in nature,
Though not heavy for it's bulk.
Inside, neatly rolled, not folded,
Packed with tender loving care,
The most amazing patchwork quilt,
Made with love by hands which ached
With each and every needle push and pull;
At times too much to bear.

Skills acquired from generations
Somewhere in the distant past
When necessity beget art and
Care was more than memory.
Handed down from mom to daughter,
Rarely placed into a book.
Hour after hour learning,
Bonding everlastingly.
Little wonder we are blessed
With such amazing gifts to keep.
When the seeds are sewn in youth,
Maturing years are sure to reap.


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Saturday, December 30, 2017

N*e*w**y*e*a*r*s**d*a*y

Now that the old year is passing away
Everyone seems to resolve a new day.
Wanting to make an improvement in kind,
Yearning for love or to gain peace of mind.
Each of us has a few things to arrange
As the old year goes out and the new one brings change.
Resolve resolutions... A promise to make.
Submit substitutions... A habit to break.
Deny the old ways.
Acknowledge the days that are changing.
Your New Year's at stake.

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FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD

I have an underlying passion for food.
Just look at my waistline;
It tells a tale
Of wicked obsession with
Oral delights tickling taste buds
To snap to attention.
Marvelous scents tease
Olfactory senses,
Begging, pleading,
Wanting for more.
Baked or broiled, fried or filleted,
Toasted or tossed to a turn,
Not to mention
I'm never left out when
They offer up seconds,
Or met a desert I didn't enjoy;
Obsessed with a fire raging out of control
Which no flood of water can possibly douse.
If this trend continues unchecked and unaltered
With no end in sight, no method employed to
Cure the beast that rages inside me,
I'm sure that I'll soon be
The size of a house.


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Friday, December 29, 2017

WHITE PAPER / BLACK INK

My blank stare reflects off
The linen white paper,
Stiffened and dulled to a
Blind state of boredom.
A texture, minute,  barely detectable,
Plays on its surface,
So naked and bland,
'Til the ink from my pen
Finds it's voice and it's
Story flows on to the page
Like the rush of the tides,
Creating a tale of marvelous
Detail, splendid adventure
To share one and all.

Should the lily-white paper resist
The disfigurement?
Would it fair better to
Keep itself pure?
Life is a story which
Cannot be told until
Black ink and white paper
Learn to endure.


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Thursday, December 28, 2017

THE BEACHES OF CAPE COD

We strolled hand in hand
Over creamy white sand
Which captured our footprints
So briefly in time, 'til the tides
And the whitecaps erased
Every trace of our lingering gaze
Into endless expanse.

Hillside bedecked by a
Towering lighthouse, a
Monument offering course and direction,
Left to remind of the days
Of our glory;
Seafaring heroes who praised her reflection.

Stiff breezes piercing the October morning,
Riding the waves rolling in from the east.
The surf is alive with the voice of a lion,
Rising to crash like the jaws of a beast.
Yet, somehow serene,
Alive, Enduring,
Knowingly constant,
Meant to survive.
Never a worry on
These sandy beaches;
Joyous to celebrate
Being alive.

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Wednesday, December 27, 2017

FULL MOON MADNESS

Once again the cycle is full.
The crescent has grown from
It's Cheshire cat grin
To a floodlight of madness
Filling the sky
With it's lunar reflection,
Blocking a billion
Stars from my vision,
Beckoning lunacy,
Calling the moonstruck
To walk in it's shadows,
To stumble about
Without clear direction,
Weeping and wailing
Without knowing why.

Werewolves and vampires,
The stars of tradition,
Reduce to a bit part
When Luna grows bright.
No one, it seems,
Can corner the market
When full moon madness
Captures the night.


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Tuesday, December 26, 2017

...COMES IN THREES

Good news...
Bad news...
Comes in threes.
Isn't it the way?
Life is fine when good news rolls in;
One after two after three
'Til euphoria sets its sights
On a dizzied brain...
Sunshine so dazzling it
blocks out the rain,
Even forgetting how mortal we are,
How end comes
To even the gayest refrain.

So sad when tragedy strikes at the heart,
When it compounds event on event
On event 'til the tray is
Too heavy to carry the burden and
Balance is lost
As you crash to your knees.
Praying for miracles to lift
Your spirit. To set
Your ship on an even keel.
Life is a seesaw;
A balancing act.
Good news... Bad news... Comes in threes.


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Monday, December 25, 2017

HOME

What better place to go....
When the trials and tribulations
Of the helter skelter day
Have led you to a state of weary
Far beyond all normal bounds;
Frustrations climb the highest peak
To strangle reason's lifeless bones,
And screams build up inside your
Spinning head until it reels,
What better place to go to than to home.

When boundless joy has entered
And laughter echoes memory's walls,
The music and the dance drain
Every ounce of energy,
The smile still lingers, whispers softly,
Speaks to every pore,
And life is good
And living fine
And peace resides within,
What better place to go to than to home.
Home is where all hearts reside.
Home is somewhere deep inside.


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Saturday, December 23, 2017

Kiss

The lips of my love are
The gateway to passion.
Ever so lightly they
Touch my soul
With a loving caress which can
Only be felt by
A kindred spirit
Who's arms enfold
And touch much deeper than
Mere flesh can know,
Finding a treasure
More precious than gold.

Sweetly the lips of my lover
Invite every passion
Inside me to rush to the fore.
Gently they touch,
Softly they urge as
Passion arises from every pore.
Kissing away every care we have known,
Leaving us spent,
But longing for more.

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Friday, December 22, 2017

I'LL SMACK YOUR FACE

You, looking at me with that
Self-righteous grin,
Eyes leering in undertones,
Sure of a win.
Head tilted, nose upturned in the air.
Lips seething attitude
Offering to dare.
Arms crossed, knuckles white,
Shoulders rigid, poised and straight;
Feet planted firmly,
No shifting of weight.
So self-assured...
So confident...
Full of venom...
Logic spent.
So high above all forgiveness and grace;
So much in need of a smack in the face.


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Thursday, December 21, 2017

IN GOD'S NAME, AMEN

...Amazing what we humans do
And blame it on religion;
The way we take the word of God
And stretch it to our purpose,
Bending every syllable, each paragraph
And page to make the
Truth unrecognizable,
To rationalize our goals.

Just see how faith keeps changing
To suit the current times;
Sad reflection of our mores,
And not a guiding light.
Nations grow intolerant,
Perched high on their beliefs,
And, in God's name, prepared
To make a fight.

The God of my religion
Is compassionate and kind,
Tolerant and giving to the end.
And when I offer up a prayer
No enemies are mentioned;
Only thanks for what is given...
In God's name, Amen.


Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Last Love

You were not my first love
But, if fate is kind,
You will be my last.
Let us then grow old together
Counting seasons wrapped
Inside each other's arms
Listening to the music that
We know so well.
Hold hands and strolling
Along beaches in our autumn sun,
Watching as the seagulls work
Their magic with the wind
And wondering what secrets
Lie beneath the sands along the shore.
We are two,
Yet we are one.
Bound in spirit, heart and soul.
Heaven smiles on earth below
To bring together our last love.


Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent

Sunday, December 17, 2017

The Fires of Beltane

The flames reach out in spite of the
Torrents of rain falling down from
The evening skies,
And you welcome me to your endless night
Filled with passionate pleasure
Beyond the moonrise.
Nothing can stop the fate that befalls
The lovers embracing
In ritual rites,
Gasping and grasping the smoke from
Her fires, engulfed in the flood of
Her pagan delights.
Gods and goddesses watch from their
Mountaintops neatly positioned between earth and sky.
Judging our worth from the weight 
Of our sacrifice.  Sealing our fate
In the blink of an eye.
We are the pawns.
We front the battle.
Never look back.
Never ask why.


Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent