Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 125

Puzzles

Tiny pieces scattered on

A tilting tabletop

Seeking interlock with mates

To make the puzzle come together.

 

Jumbled letters scrambled

Hither tither in my harried head

Til pieces find their fitting

In a field of fragrant heather.

 

Riddles riding roughshod through

A misty muddled maze,

Twisting unpredictably,

Uncertain as the weather.

 

And though you find fruition

In your wise and witty ways

Another puzzle plagues with sinewy

Jaws as tough as leather.

 

Still the puzzle baits me

With a cajolery I hate,

Until I find the answers

The rest will have to wait.

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Snoring

Oh, the inhumanity that

Seeks to freak my sanity.

That reckless rude cacophony

Of never-ending rumble.

The mournful bleat of sleepless sheep

That rises from the darkened deep

To crash and bash my peaceful sleep

And leave my mind to grumble.

 

Perhaps a pillow firmly placed

Upon an unsuspecting face

Could quit the growl without a trace.

A permanent solution.

Or just a nudge might work instead

To roust the culprit from his bed

And rid the notion from his head

With jolting resolution.

 

I will not smother or cajole

This restless, feckless troubled soul

Whose rashness circumvents my goal

Of peaceful hushed repose.

But I am tempted oh, so dear

To reach whatever might be near

And knock the fool into next year

Or shove marshmallows up his nose. 
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Beaches

Surf and sand for miles and miles

In harmony with endless seas of

Myth and monsters rolling, riding

Through a world of mysteries.

 

A distant storm- of firebolt born- 

Tempts the Fates as they conspire

To offer up the perfect blend of

Earth and water, wind and fire.

 

And none of this can touch me now

As gravity surrounds somehow

But shields me as it penetrates

And begs to lift me on its bough.

 

The waxing moon and stars surmise

That rapture dwells within my eyes

And bid me leave to sweet repose

Far from the reach of mortal lies.

 

And I could bide til dawn awakes

Ne’er to dwell on sad mistakes.

To spend the coming days enlightened

By the wisdom in your wake.

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Comfort

Blissfully, in bartered praise,

I seek sweet comfort in my days 

And writhe about in fitful ways

When hardship floats the bye and bye.

Searching for a peaceful rest

Ere following upon my quest

And questioning which road is best

Til left bereft to wonder why.

 

No loss to heft upon the pyre,

No wading through the muck and mire,

I only have but one desire,

To rest in comforts’ gaze.

To snuggle up in cozy’s warm

Secure from longing, safe from harm

With peaceful respite from the storm

Far from the frantic maze.

 

Come sit with me in comfort’s chair.

Recline, unwind without a care.

Euphoria attends us there

To fill our hearts with dreams.

No worries rush to fill our heads,

No mocking, hawking thoughts of dread.  

A place of peace and rest instead

Where nothing’s as it seems.
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Soft Supple Skin

Touch is orphan to sight and sound,

Oft neglected, seldom noted,

Goes untasted and untested.

Simply taken as for granted until

Dark of night surrounds

And we struggle with the muggle

As other senses have been bested.

 

None can lie or scarce deny

The sensory elation

That cast upon the fingertips

In featherlike sensations.

Cloaked in effervescent rains

The tidal rush ascends.

No higher intoxication

Than the kiss of supple skin.

 

Lying soft in fond embrace,

Tender smiles caress your face.

A gentle kiss upon your nape

That says so much but leaves no trace.

And I am left with dire yen

To touch you once and once again

To know that heaven can descend with

The brush of soft and supple skin.

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Get Off the Sidewalk

Yes, it’s true that sidewalks do

Make it easier to move about

From place to place in the daily pace of

Ambling, scrambling in and out.

 

But every once and then again

It’s somewhat nice to sacrifice

The safety of the proven path

To stumble into paradise.

 

The hidden walkways of the soul

Must oft times seek embellishment

To grow the spirit strong and wise

Inspiring guise of testament

To be within a single moment

Lost within the nothingness

 Captivated by the being

Letting go of pain and stress.

 

Leaping from the sidewalk jungle

Meeting meadows, woods and streams.

Find the treasures lost in silence

There amongst the purest dreams.

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Weeds

Precious little faulted flower

Growing in unknowing haste,

If only others understood

The longing there upon your face.

The struggle in the horrid hearing

That you must always know your place,

The fruit you harvest

And then offer,

Oft neglected.

Such a waste.

 

Out of touch and out of luck,

Will any stop to plead your case?

Or shall you bide your precious season

Longing for a fond embrace?

 

Seize the moment that is gift to

Every entry in your race.

Find the favor,

Yours to savor.

Even weeds succeed with grace.

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Flowers

Where do your lovely flowers grow?

On a hill?

In a meadow?

In a garden in a row?

Where do your colors bloom and shine?

In the sunlight?

In your heart?

In the seeds you leave behind?

 

Flowers are more than we may first assume.

The magic and mystery

Brought forth in bloom,

The bright metaphorical cadence of joy

Is a groundswell of happiness

Bathed in perfume.

And every blossom

-Precious and quaint -

Fades in it’s time

With no hint of complaint,

Content in it’s day with

The picture it painted

It passes all bonds of restraint.

 

And we are the flowers,

The you, we and I,

Who wink at the sunlight

And rise toward the sky.

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A Quiet Mind

Traveling at the speed of light

Almost non-existent

Yet lingering in an afternoon

Leaving a trail of recollection,

A simple thought may rattle round

Along with near a million friends

Cluttering, muttering, oiling and buttering,

Making a mush of an unhushed mind.

Mocked by confusion

Tricked by illusion

Pallid profusion of translucent clouds,

Teetering, tottering

Dickering, dockering

Mocking and shocking

While cloaked in a shroud.

 

Oh, where to turn for sweet consolation?

Solace of silence

In calm meditation,

Soft kiss of bliss in

Devine hesitation.

Lost in the moment

Aloof and resigned.

Seeking the nothing,

Traveling nowhere,

Lost in the temple of

A quiet mind.
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Baseball and Chess

Baseball, so I’ve heard it said,

Is like a lively game of chess.

Posing similarities in strategy, I guess.

You must be forward-thinking

To be ranked among the best

Lest your sails should simply flutter in the breeze.

 

Every move a countermove ,

For every hint, deception.

The crystal ball must speak

With clarity without exception.

Otherwise, the vaunted prize was

Forfeit from inception

Laughing at your lack of expertise

 

Bishop, pawn and brave Sir Knight

Rush boldly to the fray to

Push the limits e’er the prize

Should quickly slip away.

Deftly chasing ‘cross the board

Cornering their prey

Until the final chapter at last is done.

 

Either game is bound to bring

Practitioners some fun.

Sadly, I was never very skilled

At either one.
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