Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 117
July 9, 2022
Brushing Up Against Evil
Bring me my sweater to break off the chill,
Maybe a blanket to cover my shoulders.
I think I may never have felt so alone, so abandoned,
The steely breath bolder and colder.
Clenched teeth do nothing to ward off the feeling that
Something is somewhere, nowhere to be found.
Fist flexed in anguish, pumping, unpumping,
Ready to fly at the slightest sound.
Where did this come from? Where is it going?
Where can I hide til it passes away?
Ill winds, chilled winds howling in sorrow,
The voices of millions lost an afraid.
Flight would seem futile, nowhere to hide
From this eminent creature, this demon, this saint.
Pure in its way to the aspect of evil.
Searching, seeking, devouring the untainted
Hearts of the masses, one at a time.
Needing and feeding, then feeding some more.
Shield me, oh Heavens, from this branded torture.
Help me to win this battle,
This war.
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July 8, 2022
The Weight of All Evidence
Innocent! I cried. I am the victim,
Bashed and abandoned to deep wells of scorn.
Notice the scars left to blemish my spirit,
Violent cuts my soul to adorn.
Where is the justice? If justice be served.
Who’ll cleanse my wounds and lay bindings upon all the Bleedings? The pleadings? Who stops the tears?
Where is the solace now all hope is gone?
You were my hero, pedestal-rider.
You were the pinnacle, my source of light.
Steadfast and solid, a human Gibraltar.
How could I know you would ever take flight?
The scythe of the Reaper has torn out my heart,
Hidden away someplace I may not know.
Hopeful that someday I’ll see you again.
The weight of all evidence tells me so.
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The Blushing Groom
You do not come to this day without fear,
Without trepidation, without doubt or woe, but
You cannot imagine your future without her,
A chasm so deep that you don’t want to know.
Who is this siren whose song so enthralls?
Whose wiles have enslaved your resistance to naught?
How have you fallen to her bold enchantment?
Is this the world of perfection you’ve sought?
Questions come quickly while answers take flight,
Slaving your soul, an unquenchable quest.
But all doubt is squelched by the lilt of her laughter.
The answer is simple. The answer is yes.
She waits in the wing, demure in her beauty.
You stand at the ready, a bundle of nerves.
Trying to catch just a glimpse of her ankle,
Knowing she’s more than you’ll ever deserve.
Somewhere there’s music to coax in the background.
Everywhere smiles adorn faces with love.
You at attention, a blush on your cheek.
Waiting. Adoring. Blessed from above.
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Maggot in the Morning
Getting past this point is the
Hardest part of the night for some.
Those mealy-mouthed minions
Sucking away the resplendent nourishment
Given of sleep.
The rejuvenation of darkness,
The silence, the stillness
Recharging the senses to speak.
Waking falls hard when the maggot
Comes calling.
Consciousness fails although consequence knows
It’s responsibility waiting the morning.
The maggot keeps feeding, eating the darkness,
Filling its’ belly to the point of bursting,
Denying the light for as long as it can.
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Freeform
It sprawls without boundaries
Mixing and matching the matchless contortions
Maligning its meaning, the interlocking pieces
That just don’t fit. Turned upside down
So you can’t see the picture,
Can’t match the colors.
Where are the corners in this portrait puzzle?
Show me the borders. I’ll find the rest
As time permits and patience allows,
If patience enters the picture at all.
Who cares if it’s flawed, in need of perfection?
Who holds up the mirror expecting to find
Not a sign of a blemish, a scar, an enigma?
Let washed away tears stain all yesterday’s sorrows.
Tomorrow’s the promise,
The ultimate prize.
It comes without knowing, a constant
Companion. The only thing sure in this free-form existence,
This life, this cathedral.
Today is what brings us to hope for tomorrow.
Lulu Storefront: https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/dsmartinJune 25, 2022
Off the Wall
Off the ceiling, off the road,
Off to the left or right.
Bounce a ball off a bald man’s head.
Try to start a fight.
Bleed the blood of a martyr’s cry
Tempt the siren’s beckoning call.
Keep the spirit if the fight
Comes flying off the wall.
Heed the cries, absorb the pain,
And let it drain to dry.
Scratch and claw back on the ride,
Unafraid to try.
Beat the odds when challenged to
Step up and take the fall.
Winners are survivors who
Come crashing off the wall.
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Bliss and the Butterfly
So much to love this time of year
When seasons recast and go
Changing their trousseau.
Happy to dwell on sweet harmony’s acre
Where latitudes give them
Permission to do so.
Soft meadows await, prepared for your ingress,
The gentle infusion of delicate wings
That flutter and flitter from
Flower to flower, blind to the power
your presence brings.
You light on my finger outstretched to the sun
And ponder a moment
Before moving on.
My memory captures the moment in rhyme
And prints a reflection to last for all time.
Time simply doesn’t exist in your world
And I would be filled with remorse and remiss
If ever my mind should be so inclined
As ever to lose this moment of bliss.
Lulu Storefront: https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/dsmartinJune 23, 2022
Oh, Well
You say life has been giving you lemons.
Oh, well.
Even lemons give lessons to learn.
Recall the old adage about lemonade
And soften your cause for concern.
Hard times may haunt you
And taunt you to tears,
But brighter days follow the rain
To help with the healing and leave with the feeling
The payoff is worth all the pain.
The grass may seem greener on
The other side.
Oh, well.
Who is to say what is best?
Should I decry envy
And fold up my tent while
My neighbor stands pounding his chest?
So many grievances I could espouse
But instead, simply choose to dismiss.
I’ll not permit them to enter my house
Or allow them to steal my bliss.
Oh, well.
Lulu Storefront: https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/dsmartinJune 22, 2022
In These Times
Difficult, to say the least,
To face the challenge of these days.
Molting, melting morals make
A mockery of modern ways.
Innocence has fallen to
An afterthought of sad cliché
That goes unheard except in words
Of sorrow and malaise.
Sorry. I’ll not listen to
This blatant negativity.
I simply can’t accept that this is life
The way it’s meant to be.
There is far too much kaleidoscopic
Fascination left to see.
And I’ll not seek the bleak or the morose
In times like these.
Head held high to search the sky
And taste the balmy breeze.
I savor just this moment
To feel safe in times like these.
Lulu Storefront: https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/dsmartinJune 21, 2022
Meditation as Medication
Would you have me cry in anguish
Over strains and pains and deeds, or
Should I seek some magical elixir
To fulfil my needs?
I have traveled many a mile
With gritted teeth and painted smile
To find myself in need of balm
To rest my weary bones a while.
Sorry, stress, sorry, strain.
Time to place you on the shelf.
I’ve reserved this tranquil time
To ruminate all by myself.
Worries have been put on hold here.
Can’t be troubled by their weight.
Sunset eyes disguise all sorrow,
Softly comforted by faith.
Gentle music cradles every burden,
Warmed by empathy,
To breathe a wash of sweet repose
In dulcet strains of harmony.
Stillness teeter near the edge of
Endless possibilities, while
With the darkness comes the light
To heal the blight inside of me.
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