TheTimes of Our Lives: A Collection of Poetry

My new collection of poems is complete. It should be available on Lulu.com in about 2 weeks and within the next month on Amazon.com and other online bookstores. What you see here is the cover art, which features my beautiful young cousin, Jessica Knauer. 

A Prayer Before Bedtime

As weary eyes retire in sleep
To waltz in rainbow reverie,
Just a pause to offer thanks to
One whose grace is ever near.

One who watches,
One who listens
Knowing every thought and need.
Here to guide the lost and tired,
To wipe away each mournful tear.

Thankful for each waking breath,
Every makeshift, selfless deed.
Hopeful for tomorrow’s fate
To face the future without fear.

Pray for blessings from above
That they might grow from simple seed.
Pray for loved ones. Keep them strong.
Pray for all that they hold dear.

May the world find understanding,
Freedom from all hate and greed.
I ask with faith and gratitude,
Please, receive this humble prayer.

It’s Over

Time to pack it all away,
Roll it up in bubble wrap and
Save it for another day.
Close the lid and
Seal the flap.
It’s over.
 
Chalk it to experience,
A holograph of destiny,
A single-minded game of chance
To pray on future’s memory.
It’s over.
 
If we were never meant to be,
You can blame it all on me. It’s true.
But I would give up everything I own
For one more chance at loving you.
 
Tomorrow’s just a day away
But it will be eternity without you.
Don’t know what caused our love to die
So I’ll just sit and cry because
It’s over.
I know it’s over.
 
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Don’t Kill the Messenger

I’m only passing on the news.
Thoughts expressed are not my views so
Any anger that ensues
Should not apply to me.
And though your ire may be just,
It was not I betrayed your trust, so
Take a moment to adjust
The wrath of your decree.

The winds of fate,
The sea of change,
The confluence of circumstances uncontrolled
Are met to dance in
Fits of fruitless fantasy.
Swift purveyor, full of youth,
Bold and brash with eyes of ruthless irony,
Speaks only truth with
Ironclad guarantee.

And though we may not want to hear
The missive that is waiting there,
We need not hide our hearts in fear
Or dare to kill the messenger.

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War is Over

Let the herald ring his bell,
Quick to tell the waiting throng
So they may spread the joyful news and
Join him in his merry song.
-         War is over -

Now the healing can begin.
Time to mend a broken land,
To find compassion in the wind and
Take your neighbor by the hand.
-         War is over -

Fathers pray as mothers weep
In sorrow or in ecstasy
To know their sons shall know no more
The horror of such travesty.
-         War is over -

And every soul in every town and
Every village far and near,
For now and for eternity
The three words they most long to hear:
-         War is over -

98.6 And Normal

Normal walks and
          Normal talks and
Sees and hears, tastes and feels.
Normal doesn’t question why or
         Ask for more than life reveals.

Normal never oversteps or
        Dives in depths with quick reactions.
Normal doesn’t dare to dream or
        Plan or scheme without distraction.

Normal doesn’t theorize or
        Seek the prize beyond the moon,
Crouching small among tall trees
        Afraid to sing a different tune.

Normal takes the easy path,
        Avoids the wrath of dissonance,
Seeks the shelter of accord,
        Fearful of a rebel’s stance.

If normal means to live in dread,
To hide my head so I can’t see the
Prospect of a foreign world,
Then normal I shall never be.

Sometimes the Answer is No

Pray for healing,
          Pray for peace,
                    Pray for understanding.
Pray with fervor for His favor,
But pray without demanding.

Pray for blessings,
          Pray with thanks,
                    Pray to know God’s grace.
Pray that every heart may know
The warmth of His embrace.

Trials and temptations are but
Bitter weeds that all must taste,
But the guidance from a simple prayer
Can quell decisions made in haste.

For all may hope and
          All may pray
As surely as the winds may blow,
And every prayer is heard and answered,
Often, “Yes,”
          But sometimes, “No.”

Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin

Western Movies

Ride me away on another cliché where
The sun settles soft at the end of the day
As the good guys, the bad guys and
          All in between
Paint the tale of an era played out on the screen.

With hokum and smoke ‘em and
          Horses and cattle,
Coyotes yappin’ and Injuns to battle,
Six-guns ablazin’ and
Pretty gals cooin’,
Pot-bellied sheriffs who ride to their ruin.
Men in white hats atop swift golden steeds
Chasing bad men in black whose hearts fill with greed.
The furious crush of a cavalry rush
With bugle and banner and sabre held high
Sweep to the rescue from manic marauders as
Victory echoes from their battle cry.

I know it was fantasy,
          Nothing quite real,
But I couldn’t escape how it all made me feel.
Saturday mornings, six-guns aflame,
          And I was a cowboy ridin’ the range.

Did You Hear the One About…

Old jokes tend to come around again,
      Again…
           And yet again,
Taking slightly different twists and turns
To find familiar ends,
Hoping for a belly laugh,
A smile
Or maybe just a grin,
Told by strangers in a crowd, or
Shared in secret with a friend.

All God’s children love to laugh at
Quips or capers,
          Prank or pun,
Silly little anecdotal memories
Relayed in fun.
Whether to an audience of fifty million,
Or just one,
Lifts a world from darkness
With a candy-coated slice of sun.
Makes a gleeful spirit shout,
“Hey, did you hear the one about…”

First Kiss

Sweet bliss…
This first kiss.
Loving hearts may reminisce
The moment spent
          On tender lips
In breathless, anxious ecstasy.
Fulfilling every fantasy of
Joyous, unrepentant youth.
Finding out the humble truth that
There is so much more to this…
          More than just a simple kiss.
A new beginning,
          New direction
Wrapped in guise of sweet confection.
Gentle promise of perfection
Wanting more…
          Forever more,
Never stopping to keep score.
Determined never to dismiss the
Memory of this first kiss.

Transitions

Nothing ever stays the same
As time demands her fealty,
For life resides on shifting sands
That, swift, the currents sweep to sea.
And all who dare defy her
To decry her morphed maturity
Are left to weep and wonder why,
But scarce deny reality.

Through phase and stage these changes play
To steal the refuge of design
Disrupting comfort in the wake of
Customs to be left behind.
And these transitions, never smooth,
May cause the mighty to opine
While feast awaits the fiddler
As past and present intertwine.

To beat the drum,
To cry and wail,
To fight the dragon of reform
Is nothing short of standing still,
Left behind in nature’s storm.

Evil

Cloaked in shadows, dark and deep,
Silent stealth as footsteps creep
With measured pace prepared to leap
Upon an unsuspecting fool.

This evil, unprepared to wait,
Whose appetite cannot abate with
Meager morsels from a plate where
Conscience bears no mortal rule.

This evil with his cunning lies,
The hint of promise in his eyes,
A thousand ways to mesmerize,
Each whispered breath a wicked tool.

This evil, never changing course,
Who rides upon a painted horse
With sabre drawn of deadly force
With purpose cold and deftly cruel.

And who will rise to face this foe?
To challenge evil’s deadly blow and
Sound the chime so all may know that
Hope may yet survive the duel.

Bucket List

Gliding high beyond the clouds,
Plunging deep in silent seas,
Lingering in Paradise
Relaxing with the tropic breeze.

Tramp across the continent without
A care to cloud the day,
Soaking in the Muse of every
Songbird chanced along the way.

Write a book. Compose a song.
Sing an anthem for the crowd.
Leave a footprint so unique
It will make a nation proud.

Travel to a foreign land,
Learn to speak the native tongue,
Ambitious as the day begins,
Humble when the day is done.

The list goes on…
          And on…
                    And on…
So much to do,
          So little time.
Scratch off one, another waits.
A valley to cross,
          A mountain to climb.

Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin 

Fortune

Prosperity can be a pilfering pirate
Recklessly raging the seven seas,
Never quite quenching the cavernous craving
That mangles the mindset
          Like bent twisted trees.

“More,” cries the cringing crowd.
“Forever more.”
Never enough when there’s more to be mined.
But wealth is rewarded with misery’s mystery
Fraught with the folly that all might unwind.

Minions who manage on paltry possessions
Seek solace in prospect mere money can’t bring.
The freedom of fellowship,
Kindness and kinship
Silently soar on unwavering wings.

And we who are left to review the reward
May only observe absolute acclamation.
The fortune of love we find for each other is
The greatest of gifts since the dawn of creation.