Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 128

FAMILY

Taking the gauntlet of support...                                        a

Reaching out when others turn away...                              b

Reconciling differences of rage                                         c

With words unspoken, just a look,                                    d

A touch, a feeling, an embrace.                                         e

Lives that intertwine like lace,                                           e

Whose history could fill a book                                         d

With pictured stories on each page                                    c

That fade with age to shades of gray                                 b

In vague statistical reports.                                                a

 

Families are made to give;                                                   f

Conception itself a gift of life                                              g

To an unsuspecting innocent child                                       h

To be nurtured and coddled until the day                             i

It can stand and walk and run on it's own,                           j

And decide for itself it is fully-grown.                                 j

But even as we make our way,                                             i

And stumble, falter and trek through the wild,                   h

Family pulls us through all the strife,                                 g

Feeding the sustenance needed to live.                               f

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THE COMFORT ZONE

I've never been one to walk on the edge,

To take the great challenge,

To live on a dare.

I leave it to others to bunji

Or dive from a plane never knowing if

My chute will open,

Facing the danger knowingly unaware.

 

I admire those who have captured the nerve

To explore the unknown,

The uncharted seas;

Thumbing their noses at dangerous waters,

Racing so fast that the world is a blur;

Having the gall to do just as they please.

 

Living each moment spurred by adrenaline,

They face the challenges,

They walk alone.

The rest of us watch and vicariously dwell

Far form the danger of their man-made Hell...

Safe in the arms of our comfort zone.

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FOREVER YOUNG

Why can't we be forever young?

Age is such a demon bastard,

Rogue taskmaster, overlord who

Seeks to take our very best

And put it in a distant past,

Where it is just a memory of

Bygone glories, reminisced on

Holidays and family gatherings

Where we are offered sad reminders

That we were never meant to last.

 

Bodies crumble as time marches;

Circuits spike from overload.

Looking back becomes obsessive

As the future dims to night.

Partners leave and friends forsake

And we are left to dance alone,

Seeking solace in new faces

Opening new eyes to light.

 

In our hearts we build new hope;

New songs, new lyrics to be sung.

Living 'til the day is over,

We shall be forever young.

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MOWING THE LAWN

It must be Saturday afternoon.

I hear the annoying, buzzing din

Of gas-drinking, grass-eating,

Cud-chewing monsters

Disturbing the neighborhood's quiet repose.

 

It can't be avoided, the dread obligation

Of suburban dwelling which no one enjoys.

Unlike the city where concrete and asphalt

Adorn every lawn and nothing grows.

 

In younger days it was not such a labor,

And I sometimes got paid when I hired out my service.

But now it seems that the lawn is mine,

And so is the weekly summertime chore.

 

I suppose someday I'll become one of those

Who hired kids like me for their dirty work,

So that I won't awake on Sunday morning

With joints that ache and muscles sore.

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FIFTY-SEVEN CHEVY

Classic is the one term

To describe her sleek, lean, hungry lines.

Michigan toiled long and hard

Perfecting her unique design

Which up 'til then had only hinted

At her moment, now unveiled;

Every curve and every point

Distinctly polished and detailed.

 

From her broad and toothy grin,

Which dared accentuate her eyes,

To her sharp foreboding fins

Casting illusions that she flies.

 

Many an hour I freely spent

Caressing her chassis to sparkling gleam.

Many a mile she carried me gladly

Until we became an inseparable team.

 

A passion between machine and man,

The likes of which had never been,

Grew up in 1957;

A year like we'll never see again.

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LOOKING UP IN THE SKY AT NIGHT

Since before the dawn of recorded time

Man has searched the Heavens through sleepless nights,

Looking for answers in awe and wonderment,

Tracing the outlines, making up songs.

 

I only see the enormous magnificence

Lying before me, resplendent in beauty,

Making my essence seem desperately small,

Yet giving me pause just to know I belong

In some paltry way to a larger contingent

Interconnected to worlds without end.

 

I longingly gaze and become immortal.

... Everything clear now.

... Nothing is wrong.

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POWER

...Not the glowing raging Sun

   Perched up in the noble sky

   Radiating, giving life where life was void

   And darkness slept.

 

...Not the great fueled rocket engine

   Roaring thrust to hurl its object,

   Freeing it from Earthbound tethers

   To a waiting weightless void.

 

...Not the vastly open seas which

   Cause man to shrink in size and

   Stand in awe, to search horizons

   Praying for an open port.

 

...Not the massive hurricane or

   Swift tornado twisting in the

   Fury of an angry wind,

   Destroying all it dares to touch.

 

Above it all, when all is said,

The truth is ours to search and find...

True power dwells within the dark

Recesses of the human mind.

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THE BIRTHDAY CARD

I got your birthday card today.

How kind of you

To remember me and celebrate

The aging process one more time;

Though at this age the celebration

Seems more a sigh than it is a shout,

And time accelerates as we begin

To mellow in the wine.

 

And yet you took the time,

You bought the stamp,

You licked the envelope,

And placed it lovingly into the mailbox

Speeding it my way.

And you must know just what it meant,

This krimpet filled with sentiment,

This funny little card you sent

Designed to make my day.

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PICKING UP PENNIES

Do you bend to pick up pennies

Or simply pass them over?

Will you only make the effort

If heads is showing up

And you think that some great power

In the center of all being

Has placed it there before you

As an offering of luck?

 

Nickels, dimes and quarters offer

Much more worthy quarry,

As some poor fool's misfortune makes

Another person's day,

And though no one builds a fortune

Finding change among the rubble,

No harm is done retrieving it

And putting it away.

 

To those who think the effort

Too demanding for the prize,

Whose ego will not let them stoop

For such a paltry fee,

Perhaps these lofty values

are just misdirected pride,

Or perhaps it's sloth preventing

Them from bending at the knee.

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HOW MANY STARS IN THE HEAVENS

Imagine there is some poor fool

With nothing else to do

But count the stars up in the sky

As each comes into view

To try to verify a number,

To validify the claim

That the universe is finite,

And no two stars are the same.

 

Even if a thousand fools count

For a thousand nights,

And never stop to bat an eye

Or count the same star twice,

The search would still continue

For an ending to their quest,

Leaving in frustration

Someone else to count the rest.

 

How many stars in the heavens?

No one will ever know.

The universe is infinite

To mortals here below.

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