Take it from Here

Every time one road comes to end
Decisions must be made.
Left or right or turn around;
There is no straight ahead.
Direction then must be considered,
Though the line be grayed
With the nagging fear and lagging doubt
That fills a heart with dread.
Feel it beat with palpitating
Syncopated chorus.
See the muddled mesh that quells
The rhythm of regret.
None can truly know the
Fettered fate that lies before us.
Services must render before
We can pay the debt.
So we yield to compromise
And not to doubt or fear.
The rest is up to you, my friend
To set your course from here.

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Epiphany

My latest book is available at a 40% discount at:
http://www.lulu.com/shop/dennis-sidney-martin/epiphany/paperback/product-23848599.html
It should also be available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble next month.

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Teddy Bear Tales

Teddy went walking in deep forest green
Where sun never touches the earth,
Following pathways others before
Had blazed through bramble and brush,
Capturing songs falling gently from treetops,
Feasting on every note.
Watching the woodlanders thrive in their frolic,
Nary a one in a rush.
Ah, but the evil that lurks in the shadows,
Covert, in corners unseen,
Lying in wait for poor unsuspectings,
Iron-like jaws meant to crush.
Warning? Fair warning was given to you,
My cute little teddy bear friend.
You knew the caveats and the rewards.
Nobody gave you a push.
Now everyone stands at the edge of the forest,
No one dare enter its fold.
Waiting for you. Praying for you.
Fearing the worst from the hush.

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Broke the Mold

Praise could never do you justice.
Monuments could not compete to
Overshadow your compassion,
Jar the cradle of your soul.

Fill the air with songs of joy
From a heart that lifts with ease
Every heavy burden cast,
Every levy, every toll.

Keeping sights set on horizons
With a star to guide the night.
Ever constant, moving forward,
Always conscious of your goal.

Healing hands reach ever skyward
Touching angels where they sleep.
Heaven must be missing one.
When God made you, 
He broke the mold.

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Dressed and Ready

Here I sit dressed and ready
Like so many times before.
Waiting oh, so patiently
For someone to appear.
Maybe I should go ahead and
Just walk out that door, or
Maybe I should get a cattle prod
To get your butt in gear.
Are we destined once again
To make our entrance late?
Burdened with apology as
We walk through the door.
Is it karma? Destiny?
Or is it simply fate
That wears as thin as onion skin
And smells down to the core?
Just once if you would still my fears
‘Twould make my nerves unsteady,
Were I the one to come downstairs 
And find you dressed and ready.

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Grace

Fondest extension of delicate hands
Beckoning comfort to deep-seeded sorrow,
Urging the slightest upward furl to
Lips whose edges feel gravity’s strain.
Making an entrance so unpretentious that
Everyone notices. Every eye focuses.
All wish to follow footstep by footstep,
Washed in the whispers of sweet gentle rain.
Welcoming wisdom alive and awake in
Eyes holding steadfast to every word.
Spellbound to detail, harboring comfort
Even in silence, emotion unspared.
Leaving us knowing that we are the better
Feeling the presence for even a moment,
Alive with the knowledge that some unknown presence
Lingers still from someone who dared.
Grace be a parent to
All who will follow the
Perfect example of
One who cared.

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Bad Company

When did you crawl back to town?
With side winding slithering and serpentine tongue
Probing the air to seek out advantage
And steal it from unsuspecting souls.
We’d hoped that you had found greener fields
To lie in wait, stalk your prey.
Much more comfort knowing that
Your influence was miles away.
Far too many young minds here
To emulate your wretched ways,
To try and reap success by
Seeking your misguided goals.
We must excommunicate
To rid us your bad company,
Make our world a safer place,
A better place to be.

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Pass the Biscuits, Please

Early morning riser to
The sweet aroma,
Coffee percolating in a
Metal pot atop the stove;
Black gold liquid for the soul.
Bacon sizzles on the grill
As it shrinks down to perfection,
Tempting cheaters who can’t wait
To steal a morsel,
Then another.
Hand-rolled dough
Pinched and patted,
Placed in rows by loving hands.
Nursed to life to breathe
Sweet buttered air,
Set lightly on the table.
Called to order now.
Eggs and gravy gently tease,
But contentment waits for no one.
Someone pass the biscuits, please.

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Workout

Why these bilious bilgy beads of
Salty soakings from each pore?
Why this hurried hapless heartbeat
Racing rapid, run amok?
Footfalls flailing furious with
Rapid repetitious rote in
Harpsichordial harmony
Over, under, up and out.
Breath becomes belabored as the
Will to win the wayward war
Runs its raucous ragtag ranting
Through a muted melted mind.
And just before I bound into the
Doldrums of deflation
I carefully consider
Ne’er to do this deed again.

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Flying

Oh, to have the wings of eagles
Climbing wind drifts to the sun,
Riding free on rising currents
Wrapped in pinwheel circling.
Looking down on my dominion,
Watching where the rivers run.
Every move of every creature
Open to my scrutiny.
Dare to keep me on the ground when
Clouds can be my fertile soil.
Beg the sun to preen my feathers
With its purifying light.
Weep not if I drift forever,
Lost to sweet oblivion.
Comfort that I’m lost in freedom
Where no harm can touch my soul.

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My Heart

It’s just a muscle, is it not?
A simple pump
Ticking, tocking like a clock
In perfect perpetuity
Striving for infinity.
Cannot miss a single beat
Without disturbing nature’s force.
Rhythmic cadence, drum and fife,
Briskly marching, breathing life
Without remembrance or remorse.

More than simple mechanism,
My heartbeat is ever true.
Pure in essence,
Lodged in passion,
Constant, for
My heart is you.

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All on Sale

Whatever happened to honesty?
It seems to be on holiday
Or maybe simply gone away
Along with culpability
To hide in recidivity
In muted shades of gray.

What has happened to respect?
Is it baneful to expect a
Simple act of courtesy?
Blindness courted by degree
Unable to detect a
Modicum of modesty.

Will the well of decency
Run dry of staunch sobriety
Awaiting conscience to prevail
When comfort and propriety,
Standards and conformity
Are up for auction?
All on sale.

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Smile for the Camera

Try to remember, imagine, embrace
A time in your pretty past.
Distant or near,
Time filled with innocence,
Hopeful with trust,
Facing the future void of all fear.
Kittens and puppy dogs frolicking free,
Prancing, pawing, kissing your cheek.
Sweet lies and mud pies and stories unending,
A brisk round of tag, hop scotch, hide and seek.
Rainbows and mistletoe…
          Springtime to winter…
                    Feasting on cantaloupe…
                              Sloshing in snow.
Basking in sunshine…
          Scary ghost stories…
                    Squishy sop soakings
                              With garden hose.
Creep past remembrance to times of enchantment.
Toggle the handle. Race through the portal.
Light up your eyes with the sparkle of fireflies.
Now…
          Smile for the camera.
Click! You’re immortal.

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Look the Other Way

Charging like a fierce Nor’easter
Bounding off costal Atlantic shores,
Tearing inland to wreak its worst,
Leaving a trail of sorrow behind.
Casting a net over masses of innocents,
Pleading no mercy, knowing no shame.
Locating targets with pinpoint precision.
Laughing on leaving, pompous and full.

Who will stand up for the tear-stained victim
After the tirade subsides into dust?
Who will be witness against the atrocities?
Who will find backbone to cry out, ‘enough’?
Where is justice? Who will be hero?
Why is action froth with delay?
Why can’t we shake off this propensity to
Simply look the other way?

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Put a Lid on It

This has been brewing for quite some time,
Your babbling, bubbling cauldron of gruel.
Much like the witches who garnered no good,
Looking for trouble, pitiful fool.
Chattering, smatterings speak to the air,
Baseline pretensions run wild,
Stabbing the life out of palpable logic,
A mentally midgeted child.
No one in earshot evades your tirade.
It carries as though it has wings.
It smells of the heat of a thousand fires,
Reverberating in rings.
No one wants to simmer inside your
Pot of trouble and toil.
Time to turn off the flame and
Put a lid in place to temper the boil.

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Iced

No longer does your stream flow
Through the valley of reason
Filling her banks to overflow with
Constant compassion, tender thought,
Waiting to bask in your afterglow.
Days gone by your waters refreshed,
Nourished and healed like a gift from above.
No fires survived or resisted your quenching,
No one went thirsty or hungered for love.
No prayer unanswered.
No care vilified.
No fare unpaid.
No dare cast aside.
Now it seems springtime has hastened departure.
Summertime skipped and autumn cold blown.
Waterways deep in the core of your basin
Suddenly chilled…
                               Iced to the bone.

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Playing Out Back

A ball and a stick and
A diamond of trash cans as
Fifty thousand adoring fans
Fill a postage stamp yard 

To wait and watch in anticipation, 
Knowing all too well your 

Late inning heroics will 

Somehow rise to save the day. 

Chalk roads on concrete, 

Pathways through neighborhoods 

Real and imagined 

In intricate patterns. 

Crossroads and railroads, 

Stop lights and stop signs, 

Fire truck and ambulance, 

Cops chasing speeders.

Playing til sunset, 

Beyond if allowed, 

Til mother yells, “bath time”. 

Reality stinks.

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The Visit

Braced and ready for any endeavor,
Awaiting the tirade that surely will follow,
Feeling the weight, the pure intent of
Noncataclysmic benign confrontation.

I remain steadfast in anticipation,
Winsome yet watchful of every move.
Measuring spoonfuls of history’s lessons
To temper the spice of today’s recipe.

Brisk to the footfall you enter my castle.
Too late the drawbridge, too slow the gate.
Invading my kingdom, my breached sanctuary.
I muffle a scream; put a smile on my lips.

Maybe today the results will be different;
Gathering honey, rendering fruit.
Maybe I’ll win the Irish sweepstakes
And move to Bali… or maybe the Moon.

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If… And… Then

If the calendar was malleable
And we could pick and choose,
Then mistakes would not be permanent,
Do-overs would be commonplace.
If it’s true that fame is fleeting
And wealth can’t buy happiness,
Then I must be the happiest
Poor bastard in this unknown world.
If the myths of Troy were factual
And looks turned men to stone,
Then man would have evolved by now
To lifeless frozen rock.
If the world should stop revolving
And the sun refuse to glow,
Then I’d seek the warmth of kindness
That dwells inside your eyes.
If the angels came tomorrow
And took me to Heaven’s door,
Then the answers would be obvious
And I would guess no more.

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Peaks

Oh, to rise o’er sun-drenched valleys
Cut and carved by friendly waters
In a questful sure meander
As they search for lower ground.

You have towered eons gone
To capture an unbroken sky,
Long before foot, fin or hoof
Arrived to desecrate your Eden.

Looking down on crystal waters
Gathered pristine at your feet.
First to witness Sun’s horizon,
Smiling as you greet the dawn.

Gazing at your peaks with envy.
Oh, to be so close to God.
Let me lift a pensive plea
That I may be as wise as you.

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… And That is the Problem

Lanky lips freely flapping,
Vocal chords forever yapping,
Viper’s tongue snapping, snapping.
Do you ever cease, desist?
Jealous little mocking bird
Clinging fast to every word
However petty or absurd.
You simply can’t resist.
Every beetle in your garden
Looks to you to act as warden.
Keep your prison without pardon 
Or venue of escape. 

Oh, to have a caped crusader, 

Superhero, innovator.

I could be a stowaway or 

Hide beneath his cape. 

But alas, there is no rescue, 

No glad ending to this film. 

Stuck behind and endless droning. 

That, my friend, is the problem. 

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Jazz, and All That

Breaking all the syncopated rules…
                                                  I think so.
Turning all the geniuses to fools…
                                                  I don’t know.
Winding down the windows while I turn the heater on,
Pumping up the volume when they play a favorite song.
Driving down the highway to
A secret little byway where
They play the music my way
And it’s jazz…
                    And all that.

Tapping to the rhythm of the blues…
          Don’t go there.
Searching through my soul to find the clues…
          They’re nowhere.
Eatin’ soda crackers, sippin’ slowly on a beer,
Waiting for the music take me far away from here.
Piano man can wing it while
The scat man, he can sing it and
The combo starts to bring it
And it’s jazz…
                    And all that.

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Rose Garden

Sweet the fragrance of the rose
Awakened of a dew-drenched morn.
Wafting on the summer air,
The fluttering of butterflies.
Sharp the contrast of your colors
On your canvas caped in green.
Bold announcement of your season,
Cornucopic for the eyes.
Delicate your tender blossom,
Velvet skin that must be touched.
Mistress to the sensual senses
Where no judgment need apply.
Champion to would-be lovers.
Staple of apology.
Sweetheart’s way to say ‘you’re mine’.
No excuse. No alibi.
Fairest rose in all my garden
We shall never say goodbye.

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Thank You

I learned so much of life from you.
Hours spent in harmony
Bouncing on your knowledge knee,
Kindling a learning passion
Hidden deep inside of me.
Bible stories much encouraged
Taught outside of Sunday school.
Learning by example the
True meaning of the golden rule.
Kindness a priority,
Reasoning a tool,
Ego mostly secondary,
Greed the Mecca for a fool.
People are just people.
Some are good, some are not.
But all are equal in His eyes
No matter how they cast their lot.
You taught me oh, so many things
That get me through each day.
As I reflect on days gone by
I only want to say
Thanks, Mom.

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Down and Back

I know you’ve been there, haven’t you?
Slid the slide of degradation,
Strolled along in agitation,
Bold and without hesitation
On your way to Purgatory.
Eyes that slide back in your brow
Until no sunlight filters in.
Brushing up against the guardrails
On your way to self-destruction.
No advice. No listening.

I’ve been there.
Oh, my Lord! Yes.
Sauntered down that lonesome road,
Spent my time with snake and toad,
Life unraveling, eroding
Right before my doubtful eyes.
Now I’m back, right on course,
Life rekindled with a force
I know will never leave me
As I learn to chase the prize.

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Best of Both Worlds

Go ahead. Eat your cake.
Blast those fools who try to state that
Once it’s gone it’s lost forever
Leaving never hanging limp.
They know absolutely nothing of
Creating memory. Let them grill
The fifth degree to find some meaning
In your action, gaining little
Satisfaction in their mindless menial way.
Never has imagination failed to
Heal a situation left to task with
Bold dictation to commit a memory.
Go ahead! Eat your fill,
Wipe your lips and pay the bill.
Sit a while and post a smile
For all the doubting world to see.

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Humiliation

How awful for you. Must have been
A source of huge embarrassment.
Candy-coated at the start to
Tempt your taste, pull you in.
But oh, the angry understudy
Creeping slowly, sight unseen
To pounce on unsuspecting prey,
Turning hero into louse.
Pity not the culprit. He shall
Spend his time in hell
Agonizing over choices made
With bitter consequence.
Better to lend concentration toward
The fences left to mend.
Nothing quite as empty as
A truth left dangling.
Lift your chin and focus as
You turn to face the crowded room.
State your case with attitude,
Fearless to the gruesome end.

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Shall We Dance?

In the half-light softly glowing
With the world in restful peace
Music heretofore unnoticed
Starts to play inside my head.
Waves of passion gently rage
Planting kisses on your shore,
Praying silently for more than
You have offered, I have asked.
Moving closer to your eyes;
Eyes that penetrate my soul,
Beg me to come closer still
To touch the satin of your skin.
Reticence has coddled me to
Keep safe distance, work a plan.
But nothing could prepare me for
The aura essence you command.
Suddenly epiphany steps in
To give me everything as
I ask, you accept my offer.
Shall we dance?

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Big Time Player

Heroes come in every shape, size,
Age and color too.
Any time of any day,
Anywhere, any way
Bold surprises spring to life
To offer up the finest view,
The big time player stepping up
To take control,
Keep the flow of even lines,
Stem the flood of serpentine
Sensations that can permeate,
Cause the mind to hesitate,
Plant the feet in quicksand
While common senses levitate.
One shall rise to meet the test
Refusing to be second best.

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A Child Again

Looking forward to the day
When work is done and I can run
And simply flitter time away
Telling tales, having fun.
Chasing fireflies at sunset,
Glowing bright against my skin.
Quick release, catch again,
Never ending, just begun
To see the wonder of it all. 
Quick to fall, but pick it up,
Begin again to fill the cup,
Playing hard til final call.
Games aplenty we can choose.
Make the rules up at the end
To assure we never lose.
Oh, to be a child again.

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Face to Face

Which face will you wear tonight?
Faithful friend or fearsome foe?
What peace shall we know tonight

When the tide runs high?

Pairing off to duel at sunset,
Sabers honed to razor’s edge.
One shall sing the victor’s ballad,
One will sit alone and cry.
Why embrace such grand fiasco
Just to prove a point is right?
There can be no proven winner
In this fruitless futile fight.
We are two. We are one.
Countless memories embrace
As legend falls to higher calling,
Mirrored image,
Face to face.

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Hot

Rising off the blacktop
An eerie quivering phantom,
Dancing to a raucous tune
That no one else can hear.
Summer heat debates its fate
With elementary elements
As those of flesh go sweltering
Inside their darkened dens.
Who can blame them?
Every form of life is seeking respite now.
Even the brave sunflower has
Had enough of its namesake.
Panting pets seek shaded solace,
Post their signs, “Do not disturb”.
Nothing moving save the birds who
Seek the comfort of the sky.
How much longer until winter?
How I long to shovel snow.

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