Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 111

Visitor to This Planet

I am just a visitor

Awaiting fate as yet unknown.

Wandering through time and space

Searching for a comfort zone.

Walking on her solid surface,

Taking in her pristine air,

Basking in her golden sunlight,

Nourished by her bounty fare.

Nesting by her deep blue waters

In a land diversified

By creatures large to miniscule,

Trying gently to abide.

Clinging close to nature’s treasure,

Keeping balance in my wake.

Knowing to replace its measure,

As it is not mine to take.

I will keep my sacred promise

Not to take more than my share.

For I am just a visitor

Sampling this planet’s ware.

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The Virgin Lynching

Weep no more, oh weepless one.

You’ve no reason to feel shame

If others found you circumspect

Without foundation to their claim.

You were strident in your way

To keep your virtue all in tact.

Staunch and stoic in your views,

No regret, no looking back.

When the world called you to task

You refused their wild demands,

Holding on and holding fast

As they passed you hand to hand.

Even as the noose was placed

Upon your alabaster skin

You were proud to sing out loud,

Wouldn’t let the bastards win.

And you’ve paid. Yes, dearly so.

All your senses put upon.

But your will was never broken.

In the end, you won.

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Pushed Back, Stomped On. Ouch!

Oomph! Hey! Watch it!

What’s wrong with you?

You got a burr up your bun, or what?

Stop trying to push your way ahead.

The rest of us have to wait our turn, so

Why not you? You selfish freak.

Yeah, it’s you I’m talking to.

Hey! Watch that, buddy.

You’re outta line.

Don’t make me get physical.

Ungh! Hey! Stop! That hurt a lot.

Ooof! Man! What’s the matter with you?

Get off!

Have you gone nuts, or what?

Ouch! Now look! That really hurt!

Oh yeah! So what?

Well, same to you.

I’d get up and pound you, but

I think I might have broken something.

Yes indeed.

My injuries may have saved your ass,

But now I guess we’ll never know.

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Wedgies. I Hate That

They seem to arrive at the oddest of times,

Inopportune moments their specialty,

Creeping and riding by millimeter

Until they find their resting place.

One never knows until standing erect

The full effect or to what degree.

By then it’s too late to alter your fate

Or to hide the blush upon your face.

You must adjust, must set things right

Before you take another step.

They all will know it anyway.

They’ll see discomfort in your stride.

You try your best to be discrete,

But none are so adept

That we can cover such a move

With any semblance of pride.

Might as well admit the truth.

Wedgies happen all the time.

Best to give a tug and heave.

After all, it’s not a crime.

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Creative Destruction

I guess it all began with the caveman

Developing skills meant to keep him alive.

A rock or a club or the strength of his hands,

Anything’s fair if it helps him survive.

Then he found ways to take the offensive,

First stick, then stone, then metallic ore.

The shaping of spears and arrows and slings,

The packs and the tribes were soon making war.

Then in a flash, a new wave of terror.

A spark ignites powder and Hell is released

On an unsuspecting humankind

With a fury that will never cease.

The waves of destruction keep pounding the shore

With creative minds finding new ways to kill.

Leaving the battlefields strewn with ashes,

Leaving our prodigy to pay the bill.

We’ve been destroying ourselves since creation

Though truth is as close as our own backyard.

We never paused to consider the question.

Destruction? That’s easy.

Creation is hard.

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Walk to the Beat

You fiddle while you diddle as

You piddle with your feet.

Marking time, making rhyme,

Dilly-bopping on your way.

Finding action in the traction

In the ground beneath your feet,

As the mumble and the rumble

Meet the jumble of the day.

Terrifying, mystifying,

Evil-eying circumstance

Turns to muddle in a puddle

As you cuddle in the dark.

Wistful melancholy thinking

Edges you toward the brinking

As your ship is slowly sinking

And you fail to hit the mark.

But the tide keeps slowly turning

Casting doubt upon the yearning,

Giving way to seeds of learning

That can save you from defeat.

And you keep the rhythm going,

Ever-growing, ever flowing,

Moving forward without knowing

As you’re walking to the beat.

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Sad Old Humpty Dumpty

They tried to put him back together

After his untimely fall.

All the vast resources of

The kingdom were employed.

But every effort, bold and noble,

All that medicine could muster

Could not bring him to the state

Of happiness he once enjoyed.

He was such a jolly elf,

Rollie-pollie out to play.

Filled with tireless energy,

Bounding through the fields all day.

He was merely resting when

He climbed that fateful wall.

Never saw it coming

When succumbing to his fall.

And even though he did survive

With help from horse and men,

Sad old Humpty Dumpty

Was never the same again.

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Go to the Back of the Line

No breaks – No cuts – No letsies here.

No privileged characters shunning the rules.

We all have to wait, as sad as it seems

To hear, “May I help the next person in line?”

Heaped-upon boredom, shuffling feet,

Side-to-side sashaying plucking at nerves

As the unending tedium wastes precious minutes

That could have been better spent sipping fine aged wine.

It’s one of the prices we pay to be social,

A meager concession learned in youth.

Practical practice, a way to keep order,

Fractional fairness, sensible truth.

Small wonder it evokes such uproar

Any time anyone breaks the design.

All yell in unison steeped with displeasure,

“Go to the back of the line!”

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Stopped Just Short

Almost made it this time around.

Came so close I could smell the danger,

Feel the hunger, taste the heat,

See the adrenaline coursing through veins.

Every step a bold new adventure,

Every turn a new part of the maze,

Every sip a new taste sensation

Taking me farther away from the pain.

Golden euphoria rests on the precipice

Guarding her treasures for any so bold,

Waiting for anyone to take her measure,

Willing to give, ready to share.

All I need do is to go past impossible,

Reach beyond Heaven to capture a star.

Carry the day from here to forever,

Stalwart and onward, living the dare.

And I almost made it,

Crashed the boards.

Stopped just short

Of Heaven’s reward.

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All in All, Not a Bad Day

The sun made its usual cycle today,

Up in the east painting early sky

To middayflush where shadows grow short,

To a lingering peace as it said goodbye.

The robins were busily working all day

Taking short respites to give up their song.

Feeding their young ones with earth’s boundless treasure,

Boldly inviting me to come along.

I don my armor, prepared for the workday,

Sallie forth leaving my castle and keep.

Set to defend against dragon and beast, with

Damsels to rescue, treasures to reap.

Perched upon parapets, archers and arrows

Flail at my armor to no avail.

Drawing my saber, I vanquish my enemy

One by one until I prevail.

Alone in my chariot, the day all but done,

My castle is only a moment away.

Knowing that you await within chambers.

All in all – not a bad day.

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