Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 114

Laugh It Off

Have you ever noticed the occasions

When you’re most embarrassed

Oftentimes become the source of

Great amusement later on?

How the chemistry of symmetry

Beguiles the sense of dignity

And breaks it down to comedy

When every threat is gone.

Much as danger becomes thrill,

Threat evoking such a rush of

Thought-devoured adrenaline

Coursing wildly vein to vein.

Later on, our muddled matter

Lingers long on how it cheated

Death from claiming one more victim,

Left the Reaper in the rain.

You might choose to laugh it off,

Pay the price another day.

It will all be clearer when,

At last, we put our toys away.

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Wake Up and Smell the Morning

Crisp nocturnal air comes creeping

In my head as sunrise beckons

And the night bird sings its pleasure

Welcoming the coming day.

In the kitchen, no denying,

Coffee lifts its aromatics to

The membrane of my being,

Treasure served on silver tray.

Crispy bacon, toast with jelly,

Luscious melon on the side.

Cornucopic feast of fancy,

So much more than I deserve.

Keeping with the rituals of

Staunch traditions eons old,

Nourishing our temple to

Obediently serve.

How can you lie silent when

The dawning calls your name?

Wake and smell the morning

Sweetly joining in the game. 

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Rush to Anger

‘Do not rush to Anger’

Reads the motto on the wall.

Just like pride

Anger often comes before a fall.

Slow to anger squeezes reason,

Yields a sweeter drink.

More time to consider choices,

Much more time to think about

Alternatives, the fruit of genius,

Wisdom free to roam.

Intricate decisions that are

Like to find a home.

Telling tales and

Ringing bells you

Might have never heard if

You chose to rush to anger

Without sounding out the word.

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Sports Theory

Men love sports.

It’s just that simple.

Must be something in the genes,

Or maybe in their DNA that

Makes them want to go outside

To run and chase a ball all day.

Or maybe it’s the Peter Pan inside

That makes them want to play.

Running, throwing, hitting, kicking,

Dashing hither into yon.

Swimming, shooting, rowing, rolling,

Jogging in a marathon.

Hours blessed by strain and stress

Reaching for that sure relief

That overdoing brings at last

To spirits born of pure belief.

What sad truth is bane to this?

To make a man a child.

To cure his ills

And raise his chills,

If only for a little while.

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Enterprise

Busy busy little bee

Buzzing round your mother’s knee,

Charging like the Lite Brigade

When you detect an enemy.

Brash determination to protect the hive

From foul or harm.

Bent on blind obedience,

Responding quickly to alarm.

Gathering your nectar from

The clover or the flowers bloom.

Never seeking recompense

Or worrying of gloom and doom.

Peaceful when the day is done.

Thankful for the rest.

Looking forward to the dawn when

You’ll resume your golden quest.

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Sip, Don’t Gulp

I’m just sitting here thinking how

Tragic it is that so many people go

Dashing through life as though it’s a race,

A frightful pace,

With unattainable goals to chase.

Now, I think I know what you’re going to say,

That time is the foe who

Stands in the way,

That every dawn could bring your last day.

There’s really only one thing I can say.

Sip… doesn’t gulp.

Smell the bouquet of the finely aged wine.

Savor each morsel as though it’s the last.

If one time around is all this life offers,

I want to be satisfied with its repast.

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Magazine Ads

Does anyone really read magazine ads?

Sometimes stuck down in a corner,

Sometimes taking up a page – or two – or three.

You’ve seen them. What’s the deal?

Pretty pictures on a page of

Life as it should be.

Back page filled with such fine print

You need a microscope to see.

And what is it for? This miracle drug.

What does it really do?

‘Ask your doctor’ it boldly declares.

We’ll take good care of you.

I reek of hypertension just to see

Such blatant spam,

Lose my cool demeanor and go

Chasing after cause.

That they, whoever they are, would

Defile my leisure reading

With such frightful insignificance

Is reason to give pause.

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A Glass Half Full

Are you an eternal optimist?

Do you always see the glass half full?

Do you constantly look for that

Silver lining? Live with a hope that

Springs eternal?

Liar!

Or misguided fool.

Either way you miss the mark.

Setting yourself up for disappointment

At every little twist and turn.

Nothing wrong with wanting better.

Nothing evil achieving goals,

Courting hope until we see that

All will be as it should be.

But,

And you knew there was a but,

Keeping a base in reality,

Towing a line of logical measure

Helps to define the finite line,

Keeps us on course,

Uncovering treasure.

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Brace Yourself

Uncle Billy’s been hauled off to jail.

Sheriff said he hadn’t paid support

For almost half a year.

Brace yourself. There’s more.

Cousin Tommy turned seven today,

Precious little wart.

They caught him getting drunk off beer.

Brace yourself. There’s more.

Sister Sally’s getting married.

Such a grand surprise.

They said she’s in the family way

Like her sister was before.

She’s marrying that biker dude,

Everybody’s prize.

He’s going to take her far away.

Brace yourself. There’s more.

Poppa fell and broke his leg.

Can’t work for seven weeks.

We could likely starve by then

Since we’re already poor.

Momma’s sick and took to bed

So we are on our own.

Cupboard’s bare and we don’t care.

Brace yourself….

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Carpets of Hardwood

I love the feel of carpet soft and

Plush between my toes,

Cushioning and cradling my bare feet

In its tender arms.

Smoother than a feline’s fur to

Soothe my weary bones.

More welcome than the distant shores

Of South Seas island charms.

But you seem to want to give me

Hardwood carpets, nothing more.

Plagued by nail heads, warped

Uneven, tripping shards of oak.

Why do I deserve such mental anguish?

Silent torture? This

Harsh hardscrabble treatment

Is a cruel uneven joke.

You need to lighten up your act,

Need to take a break.

This vile pathetic treatment

Would cause any heart to ache.

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