This Blog features the musings of Dennis Sidney Martin; Poet, Playwright and Novelist from Baltimore, Maryland. Feel free to browse the content and leave your comments.
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.
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.
The last few strands of sunlight
Filter softly through the window sheers
To leave angelic patterns reaching hands
Across a darkening room to
Touch the tips of candles flame.
Seated near a windows frame
You catch a glimpse of setting sun
And wave goodbye until tomorrow.
Beckoning the favor fair of
Earth and air, flood and fire.
Keeper of all vigilance,
Symbol of all faith.
Offering a beacon to the
Lonely wayward wanderer.
Patient at the journeys end
To guide the weary home.
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.
You’re in the bigs now, Kido
No time to think about past mistakes.
Vague inexperience abdicates
In favor of finely-honed skills.
You’ll need to step up your game now.
Here it’s a business, not simply play.
Vested investors aren’t going to pay
If you’re not providing their everyday thrills.
Seasons grow long, the travel grueling.
Losing your focus a major concern.
Always something new to be learned
From those who have passed here before.
Seeking laudation, thunderous applause.
Climbing to fever pitch, tension avails
Until one side prevails, the other side fails.
Here where only the best will succeed,
Riding the crest of the major league.
Gentle melancholy breezes trip along
Your sea shelled beaches,
Hopping island unto island,
Touching every grain of sand.
High above the gulls go soaring
Keeping watch on their dominion.
Every nuance baits their passion
Where the oceans kiss the land.
And we stroll along the shoreline,
Hand in hand we walk together,
Carving treasures out of driftwood,
Watching sunsets in our sleep.
Every morning a new lifetime,
Every day a new adventure,
Every moment spent together
A new memory to keep.
Floating in your iridescent bubble
High above the bright red poppy fields
Of Munchkin land, you beg to spread the news.
Gloating of the triumph over troubles
Now that evil has been vanquished by degree,
You arrive to rave reviews.
Bless the little people.
They don’t fear you, but revere you,
Wait in line so they can cheer you
For the good news that you bring.
Call your name, “ding dong”, so happy.
Sing a song that’s short and snappy,
Heaping praise on high to cause the bells to ring.
But the evil is still lurking in the corners,
Silent, smirking. Waiting to affect
Its measure of reprise.
Help us overcome its power,
Growing stronger by the hour,
As we find the simple truth of your disguise.
Golden castles light the
Sky of morning as the
Wind whisks by to lend a
Song, heave a sigh,
Leave goodbye on silent lips.
Winsome thoughts go
Fluttering on silken wings of
Butterflies, muttering their
Doleful cries, flaunting
Somersaulting flips.
Stand aloof and watch a while
As dancers pass you in the aisle.
Gather proof and lend a smile
To kindle your desire.
Pack a bag and go for it.
Leave the others in a snit.
It’s your dream, your perfect fit,
Your leap into the fire.
Someone had to lose a war
That raged so long, caused such blight.
Ravaging a homeland with
A devastating horrid blow.
So much, too much loss,
Tortured carnage in the name of right.
Tossing ill excuses
At an unsuspecting foe.
And you caught in the middle,
Never wanting either part,
Wishing only that the laughter would
Return to hearth and home.
Running, fleeing, dodging bullets
Meant for someone else,
Hoping for a ceasefire or
For Jubilee to come.
God, have mercy on this
Lowly wretched refugee.
Grant him peace, give her hope,
Help them all to see.
‘Brand new shooter coming out’.
Place your bets and let them fly.
Crowd surrounds the table as you
Hold the ivories, let them roll to
Chance, spin their dotted dance to
Come to rest, yield their point,
Give you hope that you might beat
The house, break that losing chain.
Time and time and time again
You buck the odds, continue on,
Knowing that your chance grows thinner
Every time you make a pass.
Letting grass grow tall around your ankles
As you search for clues.
Blow the dice, close your eyes,
Someone cries out,
“Craps! You lose.”
Where can I go to hide out of sight
So no one will witness the tears I suppress?
Tears so unmanly, exhibits of shame,
Not meant for viewing in open display.
Keep me in shadows away from the light.
Spare me the duty, the need to confess.
Finding a scapegoat to shoulder the blame.
Wanting so desperately to get away.
Reasons aplenty abound for such flight,
Though reason of common sense loudly protest.
No one can understand what’s in a game
Where everyone loses who chooses to play.
Don’t give me grief, for I have the right.
I’m a participant, not just your guest.
The hurting will end and I will lay claim
To the beautiful prospect of a new day.
May the favor of the living
Ever shine upon your face.
May the mercy of forgiving
Spin its web around your heart.
May the one who sits on high
Fill your spirit with His grace
And bless you with a confidence that
Never shall depart.
May you always find good fortune
As you journey down life’s road;
Any sorrow you encounter
Be no more than you can cope.
May you always see the positive,
Accentuate the good,
Keep the fire burning brightly,
A lighthouse yielding hope.
You alone can make a difference
If your heart is chaste and true.
Send your blessings out into the world.
They will return to you.
Thirteen agonizing landings,
Obstacles to need,
Between me and where I need to be.
Thirteen up and thirteen down,
Time and time again.
How many times?
How many hours?
If I only had a nickel…
Find me strength to make the journey.
Find me breath for one more flight.
Blessed that I don’t make a misstep
And become a casualty.
Lord, take that blasted second floor and
Level it to closer ground
That I might lose these Devil stairs
And keep my sanity.
Just sitting here watching the world go by,
Me and my front porch.
Whittling time, chewing people pie,
Swallowing with delight.
Maybe a book to speed time along
Or fill in an empty space,
Sipping my unsweetened lemonade
In between people pie bites.
I spy as a robin peruses my lawn
For manna to feed his brood.
A little gray squirrel tiptoes up my steps
For handouts I gladly dispense.
Somewhere aloft and out of sight
A raven blares in dismay.
Curdling cries of ‘nevermore’
To make the bravest heart wince.
Soothed by wind chimes, a gentle breeze
Precursors a quiet rain,
And I settle in, content once again,
Monarch of my domain.
Where does this highway meet its end?
This endless serpent of concrete and asphalt
Is strangling, constricting every
Mass of tissue, every bone.
Pervasive boredom leaps to mind.
I’ve made this trip a thousand times and
Every one is like the last.
I could do this in my sleep.
Warnings on the radio, another detour up ahead.
Do I find an alternate or take my chances with delay?
Do I play the stop and bop or
Zig the zag with traffic tag.
Another lane jockey scurries by,
Zipping in, zipping out without a signal,
Without a clue.
Oh, where are the Smokies when you need them?
Everyone wants to be a hero.
Who do you want to be?
You could have a million
Storied moments to relate.
Choose a scene to make your entrance.
Save the day again before you
Fade into a distant sun
And memory decides your fate.
Just beware that memories are short,
Victim to perception,
Matters of convenience often
Measured by degree.
So be sure to know the cure
At your dreams inception and
Enjoy the ride when you decide
Who you really want to be.
Maker of miracles,
Wizard of wonder,
Hero of hope who can
Walk on water.
Arch our amazement,
Ascend to its apex,
Bridle benevolence to
Peak your praise.
Those in the throes of a
Weakness to worship
Bend without breaking to
Kneel on one knee,
Wondering when you will
Suddenly sink in
The dastardly depths of your
Self-imposed sea.
Streaming strips of celluloid,
Heroes in a can.
Lifestyles played out in a box
For all the world to see.
Millions cry delirious
To be the biggest fan,
A fantastic fanatic of
Frenetic fantasy.
Who made all these movie stars?
Why are they so special?
Is it not superfluous that
They exist at all?
In the grander scheme of tribulations
We must wrestle,
They won’t get a single
Curtain call.
All through the ages artists have struggled,
Poets have sought to recreate
The unknown essence in your eyes,
The one thing time can never erase.
Gentle nuance softly caressing,
Yielding to innocence,
Lost in your arms.
Playful obsession, teasing and tempting,
Giving and getting in equal repose.
Fortunate one to feast at your table,
To taste the champagne of your sweet supple lips.
Bathed in candlelight flickering softly
As feathery fingertips lightly caress.
Touching my soul in its deepest recesses,
Raising my body heat to fever pitch,
Teasing and pleasing til passion is sated,
Fires abate, only embers remain.
My sweet Juliet, Helen of Troy,
It was you taught Mona Lisa to smile.
I’ve watched you as the years roll by
Season leading into season.
Springtimes gently yield to summers,
Winters following the fall.
Gracefully you’ve kept your promise,
Step by step you’ve held my hand,
Walking every millimeter with me,
Scaling every wall.
With me as the blossoms sprouted,
With me in the heat of passion,
With me as we harvested the
Bounty of our growing vine.
Now as days are growing shorter
Let me linger in your eyes,
Kiss your lips, your honey hair,
Let me mellow in your wine.
Racing, rushing, always speeding.
Trying to avoid the rush.
Pacing in impatient sneakers,
Ready, set to go.
Casing every target quickly,
Sizing up the what and how.
Basing each decision on
A hefty pull and snap.
Doing every dubious deed
As though it was your very last.
Pursuing with the hunger of
An urchin of the streets.
Viewing plans in overload,
No secondary details.
Stewing every slight delay,
Stretching to the end.
Speedy, you may get there first
But miss so much, my faithful friend.
It was a good run.
Too soon, now it’s over.
Coming to the end
Always seems the hardest part.
Reflection makes it easier.
Well, somewhat anyway.
It’s never really easy
To mend a broken heart.
Gone now and forever,
Never to return.
Finding a far better place
To rest a troubled soul.
Leaving grieving tortured hearts
Who touched your magic world
To contemplate their future fate.
Sadly, letting go.
Wandering aimlessly,
Lost. Alone.
A million and one and yet
Not one.
Blessed with a patience
To bide my time,
Bound and determined
To find the right fit.
Kissing frogs
To grand discontentment.
Dreaming Repunzel will
Let down her hair.
Waking to find there is
No Sleeping Beauty
To kiss on the lips and
Live happ’ly e’er after.
Such a sad sack,
Such a cliché.
Hapless… hopeless…
Then I found you.
What the heck was all that ruckus?
Streaming, strumming, backbeat drumming,
Constant humming in the background.
Will it ever end?
Hump, bump, piddle, diddle,
Catch and carry back to middle.
Pricks and pins. No one wins.
Must you start it up again?
Stop the music!
God, have mercy.
I would never ask for this
Strange hullabaloo.
Only you would
Interrupt my perfect bliss.
With…
I have the hopeful will to live.
With…
I have the fruitful means to give.
With…
I have capacity to know.
With…
I’ve opportunity to grow.
With…
The love of friends I will get by.
With…
My dreams will rise to meet the sky.
With…
I know what life is all about.
Dread to know my fate were I
Without.
It’s the same old thing,
Same mistakes, sad retakes of déjà vu.
Reluctantly… seems to be a
Revolving door swings back to you.
Can’t be sure that we’ll endure
Whenever fever boils to pitch.
Can’t stand, won’t stand calmly by
As Princess turns to frosty bitch.
Fireworks loaded to explode with
Furious veracity,
Shooting flames into the night
Arousing curiosity
From passersby who blink an eye.
They’ve seen it all before.
The grand display. ‘You go!’ ‘I’ll stay.’
The slamming of the door
Then it all just goes away
As if it were a dream,
And we are left to start again.
Seems to be a theme.
Curtain going up on stage,
Audience is ready.
Steeped anticipation driving
Forward expectation.
Fluttered stomachs flustering in
Fruitless, flawless fancy,
Waiting for the spotlight
As the overture descends.
Studied, steadied, readied now
By weeks of planned rehearsal.
Tweaked by repetition to a
Peak of pure perfection.
Suddenly the lead in line
Leaps out in your direction.
No hiding place, no tortoise shell,
Too late for sad reversal.
Fantasy, reality
Comes leaping from the page,
And you are witness to the magic.
You are there – on stage.
Dilly bop – soda pop
Frosty-frothy-foamy, fill me to the top.
Hit me hard, won’t you, with a gracious glop
Before they come to take me away.
Dilly bop – clippie clop.
Praying for the wondrousness to never stop.
Expectations leaning to a flippy flop,
Turning silver linings to gray.
I was just a silly duck, misfortunes child, out of luck,
Then your loving heart smiled on me.
You could have a change of heart, a change of mind,
And our love could be history.
Dilly bop – hippy hop.
Knowing you’re the finest flower in the crop.
Waiting for the other shoe to go kerplop
Before they come and take me away.
Nations are just people. Right?
Collective thoughts in aggregate
Bordered by rivers, mountains and seas,
Shielded from those not of like minds.
Held together in common cause,
Taught from youth the ways that are best.
Given to sermon on heritage, on
Cottage and hearth, the things that bind.
Bested in battle, subjugated,
Bound and bonded to second class,
Steely hearts seek to turn the tide,
Unaverse to the letting of blood
If it need flow in a river of red.
So, let it be for the greater good.
The victor will decide what is right.
All in the name of brotherhood.
But who will heal the daggered wounds?
Who will rise to stem the flood?
Close to death one year removed,
Should be thankful, should feel blessed.
Linear mortality hushed and shunned,
But not denied.
Staving off the Reaper’s scythe,
Delaying the inevitable,
The end is still as certain as
The rising sun, the evening tide.
One tries not to think about
The timing or the certainty.
Far too many daily dues to
Clutter up a busy mind.
Roads traversed, roads yet to travel,
Chores left from misguided youth.
Blisters chafing booted heels.
Far too much to leave behind.
Precious time, beating, fleeting.
No emotion,
So unkind.
Muddled and befuddled in
A train of steamy streaming thought,
Stupefied and mollified to
Shades of gray cognition,
Such bland preoccupation of
A tacit situation sends the
Mind in one direction to
The dark depths of perdition.
Please allow a moment to
Collect the sad remains,
To sing one last refrain of
Some melancholy song.
Enlightenment ensues and
The mind is so bemused
With the voices and the choices
That we choose to take along.
Weep no more, my sad-eyed friend.
Dry your teary cheek.
It will all seem better when
Those inner voices speak.
