Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 115

Forward to the Rear

Sometimes, no matter how hard the effort,

In spite of every best intention,

I only seem to be moving backward

Into a state of futility.

Just can’t seem to catch a break,

Smitten with the curse of Job

Whose patience here was challenged

More than humans need to be.

Progress is a fragile flower

Sore in need of tender care.

Fertilized with vigilance,

Nourished by a single tear.

Dogged by persistence,

Determined to endure.

I’ll carry you on weary legs

Forward to the rear.

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Piecemeal

Patchwork is for making quilts

Or for plugging holes in inner tubes.

Pieces are for picking up when

Shattered lives break all apart.

One carries on,

Finds the glue,

Works the mending, healing plight of

Grieving sailors lost at sea, of

Helpless, hopeless, hurting hearts.

Wise men make a vain attempt to

Put the puzzle back together,

Tiny flakes so miniscule that

They escape the naked eye.

Running out of patience as the

Shadows stretch to lengths unknown,

Making nervous witness of

Unintended passers-by.

All the pieces.

So little time.

Much too soon to

Say goodbye.

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Sounding Board, Sounding Bored

Please, don’t turn your back on me at

A time like this when I need you most.

Don’t turn into a lump of coal, or yawning

Flesh with your eyes half closed.

I need you for validity, or vilification

Should the need arise.

Keep me in check, eyes pointed level

So that I may see clearly when truth is exposed.

Don’t let me whine. I

Hate people who whine and moan and lament

Over miniscule matters.

If I obsess, say enough is enough.

Once said is said. The rest is just prattle.

Keep my mind sharp like a finely honed razor.

Keep my thoughts flowing like streams to the sea.

Blessings abound for the seeker of knowledge.

All are welcome

And passage is free.

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Aggravate My Tush

You really know how to scorch my shorts,

Rag my rotors, fray my flaps.

Such muddle-headed mutterings

Should bring a child to shame.

Your beastly, bonehead brandishings

Are biting at my heels until I

Feel the strongest urge for

Bashing bones, to slash and maim.

Were I not born to know restraint

You may have fallen hard already,

Punished with a caning stick

For crimes as yet unknown.

But you keep harping, grinding,

Grating, pummeling my patience with

A finely tuned persistence that

Can dig right to the bone.

Oh, please Lord, let my ears fall deaf.

Allow a blessed hush.

This mindless addle prattle

Only aggravates my tush.

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Running With the Bulls

Now, let’s talk about something really nuts.

Let’s beat our heads against the wall

To find the logic, make some sense of

Running with Pamplona’s bulls.

How does such insane tradition

Find its’ feet? Much less a home.

How did this get started? What sad fiendish fluke

Has done us in?

Humans are of poor design to

Challenge nature’s noble beast,

A snorting, snarling mass of muscle,

Power-packed on cloven hoof.

But no one ever said that every person

Is of genius born,

And ego plus stupidity is

Just enough to do us ill.

Oh, Dear God, please have pity.

Show mercy on these fools,

These addle-minded idiots

Running with the bulls.

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Please, Put That Cigarette Out

Aren’t the rings so lovely as

They float above your head?

Cuddling the rafters, filling

Every little nook.

Didn’t the aroma of the shop

With all its’ blends fill you head

With silent notions as it set

Its fatal hook?

Pity. There, I said it.

I feel pity for your soul.

That one of your intelligence

Could be so far misled

By the sirens of Virginiawho

Seek no earthly good,

Who manipulate and procreate

With anyone they bed.

And I mean not to be unkind,

Do not want to scream or shout.

I’ll ask you once, then once again,

Please, put that cigarette out.

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Fussy Fussy

Holy crap! Must I endure this

Never-ending fussy, whiney caterwauling?

Bleating sheep-calls,

Snorting gruffs of Billy goats, grating slowly.

Pouty pouty feline folly,

Picking every nit or gnat

Til every nerve of my endurance

Has been stepped on at least once.

Can’t you just accept a little

Imperfection now and then?

Don’t you know mistakes are human?

Can’t you learn to start again?

Must you be so fussy fussy?

Give a little.

Lighten up.

All too soon it will be over.

Details only interrupt.

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Blast the Politicians

Every time I settle in to catch a

Glimpse of the evening news or

Crack the spine of a magazine or

Open up the black on white,

I get the sinking feeling and

It’s much to my chagrin that

All good has gone out of life

And logic is on holiday.

Tell me, who’s to blame for this sad state?

Who is responsible?

Why can’t things be like they were?

The way that we remember from

Our golden days of innocence.

Things keep changing,

Common sense as foreign as an

Alien from Jupiter.

Who’s to blame?

We could blast the politicians for

Not reflecting moralistic views,

Worry where they’re leading us until

We lose our hair.

But when it comes to nuts and blots

We must accept the blame.

We’re the ones who let it happen.

We’re the ones who put them there.

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Reborn

It is theory eons old of

Souls reborn, riding on the everlasting

Wings of hope,

An act of faith so magnified

As to bring hope to huddled masses,

Destitute and starving in the massive heat

Of desert sun, or on

Frozen prongs of winter’s ice

Til all are gone.

Imagine for a moment that

The reaper’s scythe has little dread,

That hearts are light, and eyes see clearly

Destinations up ahead.

Fear evaporates to dust.

Anxiety is vaporized by rays of sunlight

Trickling, sparkling on dancing feet.

Waiting now and welcoming,

Never fearing

Life reborn.

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Buzz Me In, Stupid

How long do you intend to keep me

Waiting in this dire position?

Open and exposed to every

Elementary element.

Blatant brazen passers-by.

The dirty looks, the snidely sneers,

The loud loquacious laughing louts

Out to do no earthly good.

Any moment it might rain.

Darkness filtering the trees,

The buildings, every sidewalk crevice,

Blocking out the evening sun.

You’re the one who holds my fate.

Only you can make me whole.

Only you can be my savior from

This wicked, wretched state.

Please, be kind and heed my call.

Do not let your ear go deaf.

Lifetimes do not last forever.

Now’s the time to buzz me in.

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