Marching Marching All Fall Down

Here we go a marching, marching, marching, 
Every step a straight line, heel and toe, 
Pressing with precision ever forward 
To a destination no one knows.

Pacing the parade grounds, hut – two – three – four, 
Passing the review stand, 
All eyes right. 
Tiny beads of sweat on eyebrows forming, 
Keeping the formation ever-tight.

Bugles blare and drums drum, 
Trombone, cymbals, 
Clarinet and tuba keeping pace. 
Every note a sweet song stringing memories, 
Sugaring a smile on every face.

Now the march is over, 
Silence steps in, 
No one in the anywhere makes a sound. 
Out of breath and spent with satisfaction, 
Marching, marching, 
All fall down.

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Lovingly

He touches her hand and
      She gently responds by 
          Opening her velvet fingers 
Extending her heart to 
     His all-familiar palm. 
          She reads his thoughts. 

Not a word need pass between

     As their pulse becomes one,
          Their eyes intertwine, 

Two souls lost in time and
     For one fleeting moment 
          Each one is the other. 
No questions.

Walking together hand in hand
        Down pathways familiar 
                Recalling the past
Greeting old friends as 
        They stroll through the park 
               Passing a bit of their time.

Quiet and still at 
        The end of the game 
                Sitting together, alone in the dark. 
Leisurely, lovingly 
        Lost in contentment.
               No need for words. 
They’d just get in the way.

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Going Down Slow

Took a long time getting here, 
A point where satisfaction dwells, 
A place where calm reaction sells 
For half the price and 
Without fear of

Contradiction or repression, 

Vacant of all consternation, 
Open to interpretation, 
Balanced to aggression.

Here the ground is always level 
Never teetering the bevel 
Notwithstanding the dishevelment 
That tries to shoulder in. 
Up the game to keep it going,
Keep the waters calm but flowing, 
Satisfaction in the knowing 
Where it all will end.

Meet the incline at a pace 
Where confidence can grow. 
It’s a journey, not a race, 
Meant to go down slow.

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Last Wish

I’ve made wishes on a star, 
Thrown pennies in a fountain,
Looked deep into a wishing well 
To make my longings known, 
Rubbed lamps expecting swirly smoke 
To conjure up a set of three,
Even lifted silent prayers 
When I was all alone.

Children’s play, these expectations, 
Careless folly edged with greed, 
Birthday wishes blowing candles, 
Secrets no one else may know.
Pull a wishbone with your sister 
Hoping for the shorter stem, 
Or was it the longer? 
Can’t remember in truth. 
It was so long ago.

Whatever divine sorcery 
Can make a fervent wish come true, 
My wish, my one last wish would be 
Just one more day 
        To spend with you.

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Billowy

Fluffy white
        The bright clouds billow
Landing softly
        On my pillow
Swaying gently
        Like the willow
Shadowing the stream. 

Kisses soft 
        Upon my cheek
Whispered words
       Of velvet speak 
Vistas from 
      A mountain peak 
To fill my heart with dreams.

Soaring in
      A wingless flight 
Ever upward 
        To the light
Reaching deep 
        Into the night 
Where starlight lends its beams.

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A Minor Inconvenience

No one wants to think about 
The broad swath of the Reaper’s scythe, 
The sure inevitability that 
This is but a mortal shell,

Our time allotted a mere instant 
In the span of Mother Earth, 
Hardly time to blink an eye, 
A story far too hard to tell.

There are those who pause and ponder 
What and why and where and when, 
Many who would beg and plead 
A chance to do it all again.

There are those who seize the moment 
Knowing well there is no end,
Just a minor inconvenience 
Before a new life can begin.

Circles,
Cycles, 
Wheels that turn, 
A twisting pinwheel in the wind,
There are always new beginnings 
If you know where to begin.

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Breaking Bread

Come and sit down at my table, 
Take a deep breath and relax.
Say a tiny prayer but keep it to yourself. 
Can’t offend the non-believers, 
Cannot thank our Benefactor, 
Can’t let others think that 
We’re the freaky zealots that they fear.

Seems a pity, keeping secrets, 
Feels like lying in effect, 
Breaking bread with those who loathe us and despise 
Every nuance of our being, 
Every breath our lungs may draw, 
Every word our lips might whisper in their ear.

If we are to make a difference 
We must penetrate their camp,
Must lay bare the fallen idols of despair. 
We must be the best example, 
Must rise above the rest, 
Let our actions be the only thing they hear.

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First Star

You are the first star 

In the heavens tonight 
Piercing the dark northern sky, 
Racing the moon to the 
End of horizons, 
Wiping a tear from my eye.

Nobody told me that 
You were a teaser. 
I was at ease with your light, 
But you were so fleeting 
I couldn’t catch you and 
You disappeared in the night.

Caution was warned but 
Quickly abandoned 
As you put me under your spell. 
Chasing a dream 
Choosing at random 
Listening to hear all the stories you tell.

Tell me you’ll stay. 
Give me something to cling to
When dawn comes to steal you away. 
Your precious light will not 
Fade with the morning. 
You will be with me… 
Always.

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Let’s Dance

Such a gracious host, 
A wonderful party, 
Engaging guests sharing 
Bright conversation, 
This enormous house filled 
With myriad treasures, 
The talk of the neighborhood 
In many ways.

All the gold and the glitter 
That one can imagine, 
The brazen temptation of 
Gluttony’s walk, 
The back-slapping promises, 
Whispered suggestions, 
Bold indiscretions 
Flaunted out loud.

You and I came here but 
We’re not the same here. 
We won’t pay blame here, 
Won’t take that chance. 
Let’s just dance.

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Atmosphere

Up here in this atmosphere 
Above the poking, choking smoke and 
All the listless, fistless mist that 
Wants to take my breath away,
I’m content to wait and watch
The hapless, notchless goings-on, 
The mindless, spineless nowhere songs 
The people chant each day.

Grace has found me humming tunes, 
Crooning croons on higher ground, 
Leaping bounds not set by man
Onto the grand plateau 
Where air is sweet as sassafras 
And feet have never wrinkled grass, 
Where honey flows and longing grows 
To heights nobody knows.

Somewhere in this atmosphere 
The word is hidden dark and deep. 
Keys to unlock every door; 
Promises to keep

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The Parade

So many people
        Lining the byways
                From curb to picket fences
                         As far as the eye can see. 
Young boys on 
        Their father’s shoulders 
                Straining hard to 
                         Catch a glimpse of
Something special, 
        Something shiny in the distance. 
Sirens blasting 
        With such fur
                 Dogs and children
                         Want to run. 
Clown balloon-man 
        Passing favors 
                Sad-faced mime 
                         Brings silent joy.
Stalwart veterans 
        At attention, 
                Heart salute as 
                         Glory passes. 
And the band plays 
        J.P. Souza 
                As a memory ensues. 
Strike the chords and 
        Sing the chorus. 
                Fill the air with 
                         Joyous muse. 
Run the gamut 
        Of emotion 
                       In a game 
                                You cannot lose.

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Take a Chance

Chances are 
Your chances 
Are a chance you have to take
If your dances and romances 
Leave all logic in their wake, 
And you are left to contemplate 
The heel of your mistake 
As the latest of the greatest
Walks away.

There will be joy. 
There will be pain 
And sorrow mixed with ecstasy, 
But that’s the way it’s always been, 
The way that it was meant to be.

The apple hangs upon the tree, 
And you can wait for it to fall, 
Or take a chance to taste it now
And savor it
All day. 

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Strong Will… Desperate

No fault I find in enterprise. 
It has its place 
Thought fraught with lies, 
And evil overlords abound 
To hardly anyone’s surprise.

As old as ages 
Stories told, 
Hardly headlines anymore, 
The strong-willed, desperate 
Cattle Baron fighting to keep open range.

Dark knights hired as mercenaries 
Keep the rabble in its place,
Humble and subservient, 
Immune to any change.

But change does come 
As time demands 
And desperation rises up 
With sword in hand to 
Take its due, 
To seize its rights, 
To claim the land, 
To show its will is 
Just as strong, 
And right shall triumph
Over wrong.

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Falcon Sweeping Down

Nestled in his lofty perch 
Among such Spartan furnishings 
He contemplates the oneness of 
His single-minded quest.

To triumph every battle, 
To conquer every prey, 
To hover in the clouds and know 
He is above the best

The swiftness of his crushing jaw, 
His talons strong and sure, 
The unrelenting tenure of 
His vast tenacity, 
The beauty of his flawless flight, 
This fateful knight of doom 
Bounding and rebounding 
Between fear and anarchy.

Oh, shall I see or ever know 
A knight of more renown 
Who rides the air of chivalry, 
This falcon sweeping down.

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A Child Smiled

Hard day
        Endless drudgery 
                Capped by seething innuendo 
Crashing, slashing ankle high, 
Forehead bashing on the wall,

Teardrops just about to burst
Flooding cheek with heavy brine 
From endless oceans dark and deep 
Where evil is her queen. 

Feeling firmly pistol-whipped by 
Muggers unidentified, 
Taken for a Jersey ride 
Where victims often don’t survive. 

Just when hope was all but lost at 
The very edge of hell, 
A miracle on lofty wings…

A child smiled… 
        All is well.

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I Call Your Name

In troubled times when 
Every bobble burst a bubble of despair 
And crazed confusion drapes delusion 
In a fractured fairy tale…

When all the hustle of the bustle 
Havocs in a manic mind 
And frantic frenzy fills a fortress, 
Floods the forest and the plain…

If every moment turned an eon, 
Every flash a memory, 
Every picture came to life 
And haunted all my waking hours…

If time should pass me to its bosom, 
Suffer me to go insane… 
I would not grieve. 
I would not leave. 
I would simply call your name.

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Beautiful

Where is beauty to be found?

Is it truly in the beholder’s eye?
Does it really only run skin deep?
Can it be rescued from yet another cliché 
Or broadened still from horizon to horizon? 
Is it merely a pregnant pause?
A moment of quiet reflection in 
An otherwise horrid, insidious day?

Can it soothe the beast?
Calm the Storm? 
Or is it the actual storm itself 
Sequestered in a lace-trimmed veil, 
Stalking tree-lined streets of gold 
To rest beneath my windowsill?

Or is it you, my sweetest one? 
Are you my beauty, draped with grace? 
Would darkness fill me were your face 
Not burned into my memory?
I could not, 
Would not want to know.

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Please Sir, I Want Some More

Don’t cry or pout, Little Oliver.
There will be more, 
There’s always more, 
So don’t be afraid to step up and ask. 
All he can say is no.

Oh yes, he can gasp and bark and snap 
At your audacious question, 
Shocked by your nerve, 
But it could be worth it if, 
In the end, 
Some kind-hearted soul takes 
You under his wing.

Though you may be orphaned, 
No family in sight, 
You need not be lonely 
Or even alone. 
Your future is now 
If only you want it. 
Ask if you dare. 
It will come to you.

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A Day Off

A day away 
From hash and hassle…
        Nothing to do
        Nothing to do.
Sleep in late?
Meditate?
        Not a chance
        Not a clue.
Eyes pop open. 
Mind seeks hope for 
        Something new
        Something new.

Outside scoping 
Interloping, 
        Throwing schedules askew. 
Breaking cycle 
Not a trifle, 
        Causing minor men to scoff. 
Settle in
Relax and win 
        Just enjoying 
        A day off.

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Smooth and Soothing

That voice, so melodic, 
So soothing, so smooth as 
It touches the ear and 
Goes straight to the heart. 
Calm reassurance that all is right 
In a world at times so horribly cruel.

And they named her Grace.

Different from most, but 
Always a constant, 
Forever in concert with 
Sweet harmony. 
Grounded by faith, but 
Rising above every conflict 
With reason a constant companion  

And her heart filled with grace.

Childless in essence, but 
Mother to all who 
Seek motherly content, 
A need to abide. 
Every effort 
Totally effortless, 
Every adventure a carnival ride.

And she is with grace.

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Make Me Laugh

I like to laugh...
     Hate to cry.
Love to live...
     Don't want to die.
Bless you, love you...
     Love to think of you.
So, don't be shy. Don't make me cry.
     I hate to cry...
Don't want to die.

     So, please... Make me laugh.

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Bruised Ego

You hurt my feelings. 
Boo hoo to me. 
I snap like a turtle. 
Boo hoo to you, too. 
The names we assign to 
Each other cut deep 
Until egos are battered and 
Totally bruised.

All this snipping and biting 
Does no good for anyone, 
Doesn’t resolve an iota of truth. 
It’s just a hold-over, 
A constant reminder of 
Stubborn resistance 
Born out of youth.

Grownups know better 
And reason should tell me 
That inflated ego 
Is my enemy. 
Truth is much stronger, and 
Right is the better half 
Of the equation… 
Better than me.

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Rest Your Weary Bones

It’s a long day 
         In a short life. 
Time to rest these weary bones.
Stop this raucous, ranting, running 
Gerbil ride I’m on. 

Let the wheel turn by itself 
Or slow to its cessation. 
Even God took Sunday off, so
Who am I to question?

To rest is not to quit, and 
A pause is not the end, but 
A moment of reflection 
Just before we start again is
A necessary interlude, 
A quiet, soothing friend 
Who will walk with me and 
Talk with me and 
Lead me round the bend.

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Hope in a Bottle

Where do you keep your 
Hope in a bottle? 
Your fairy tale champagne 
Wrapped up in a dream. 
Is it stashed behind labors? 
Lost under duties?
Bobbling somewhere on restless seas?

Can you reach when you want to 
With delicate fingers 
Embracing the texture of 
Soft angel wings? 
Can you drink from her content of 
Inspiration at will 
Never fearing to 
Reach the end?

Is it safe on your shelf 
Always at eye level, 
A constant reminder of 
All that can be? 
Offering more in the blink of an eye 
Than the eons can vanquish 
Or pity can bleed.

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Taming the Beast

Deep inside his cavernous labyrinth 
The beast lies sleeping 
Dreaming his dreams, 
His dastardly, bastardly beastie dreams of
Mauling, marauding and masticating 
His helpless victims 
Down to the bone. 

Those victims, all zombie toads, 
So unaware of the fate that awaits 
In his bone crushing jaws. 
The unfathomed likelihood he will awake 
With fire in his belly and 
Blood on his tongue.

What can we do?

Call for Sir Lancelot across the deep channel?
Cry for Quixote to ride on his quest? 
The beast must be tamed 
Else he be vanquished. 
The village demands 
Someone rise to the test.

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A Subtle Awakening

There was no epiphany, 
No sparks, no flash, 
No rockets red glare 
When first our eyes became intertwined. 
It was simply a knowing 
As if the ages had once again
Caused our paths to cross 
And something inside had 
Awakened once more as it had 
A hundred times before.

We were no strangers, 
No earth-bound souls 
Searching, struggling into the light. 
Just kindred spirits 
Strolling the cycle 
Finding each other again and again, 
Knowing that even the 
Reaper who parts us 
Will see us united 
As eons progress.

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Flair

Such panache, 
  Such flair, 
     Such a gift of gab has he, 
Riding wave on wave of 
   Billowy praise for 
     Adoring eyes to see.

Love him, hate him or 
   Despise him with his cooing
     Brooding eyes. 
Catch the tone of 
   Innocence delivered in 
     His scathing lies.

Do not, cannot, 
   Will not fall 
      To his contemptuous snare. 
For he is but a charlatan, 
   Although… 
      He does have flair. 
     
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Centered

In this blue funk
Self-righteous world it is 

So easy to go off kilter, 

To skew to the left, 

Skid to the right, 

Slip, slide and sashay on 

Ice-covered pathways.

Every distraction demands 

Just a little attention as 

Everything multiplies and 

Next thing you know all 

Vision is lost and all that is left 

Are the tears in your eyes. 

Lying alone in your midnight enclosure 

Lost as you contemplate 

What might have been. 

Looking for ways to get back to the center. 

It never hurts to 

Start over again. 

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Weaving Through Traffic

Left lane 
  Right lane 
     Center lane
        Storm drain
Hurry! Always hurrying 
In White Rabbit fashion.

In and out and in again 
Like a damned accordion, 
Caution tossed into the wind
With multi-purple passion.

Cannot pause to meditate, 
Can’t afford now to be late, 
No time to consider fate or 
Stop to smell the clover. 

Cannot deal with hesitation, 
No time to truck agitation, 
Must belay this aggravation e’er 
Hatter’s party’s over. 

Pray for Devine intervention,
Even miracles are mentioned, 
Puritanical intention 
Offered as excuse. 

Up ahead the traffic lessens,
Dormouse offers his confessions, 
Thankful for such grand concessions, 
Sad for the abuse.

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A Winner at Last

I’ve always wanted to be a winner, 
To drink from the cup,
Garner the prize, 
Speak all the platitudes, 
Thank all the little folks, 
Soak the applause from a grateful throng.

But fame can be fleeting 
And crowds can turn ugly, 
And notoriety has its price. 
The path becomes muddled with
So many choices til 
Differences fade between right and wrong.

There will be millions… billions of choices 
To make in a world 
Spinning far too fast. 
In the end there is no compromise, 
And life has made me 
A winner at last.

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Heaven Awaits

Nice to know that
When it’s over it’s 
Not really over at all.

Just like the sun will 
Wake in the morning, 
Just like summertime 
Yields into fall.

Pass the baton to 
Continue the relay, 
Hardly missing a step or a beat. 
Reaching the end to only start over, 
No looking back 
Or accepting defeat.

Reaching beyond 
This mortal subsistence, 
Flaunting assurance 
Time never abates. 
No need to fret this 
Befuddled existence. 
Grace be not envy…
Heaven awaits.

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I’ll be There

When the time comes – And it will – 
And you need someone to take your hand, 
To lead you through the danger zone, 
To slay the multi-headed dragon,

To share your sorrows and your joy, 
The hectic noisy quiet moments. 
To stare into a cloudless sky and 
Wonder where it all began,

To stand in wake for loved one lost and 
Ponder why it all must end. 
When life is just a puzzle where 
The pieces don’t quite seem to fit,

And you are left with questions that 
The sages of the ages fear. 
When others have abandoned you, 
Don’t worry, 
I’ll be there.

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