Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 14

War

Serpents creep...

Men sleep.

Tigers walk...

Men talk.

All is quiet...

Men fight.

Birds fly...

Men die.

Creatures sleep...

Mothers weep.

 

Look Into MY mirror Part 5. Winning

In the tempest of life I serenely saunter,

Picking up bits and pieces of humanity;

Interring in my mind the facts and figures before me.

I walk in the realm of reality,

With the knowledge of ending mortality;

To make the most of the time at hand,

And to not live a life of fatality.

 

The creature of age creeps into my life

With slow steadiness,

And I look back to ask,

"Where have I been?

What have I done?

Have I accomplished my goals?

Have I won?"

 

Life is too short to tread on triviality.

The things held most dear must come to the front

And lead us along through the light and the dark.

We should always be able to make the remark,

"Today I lived and laughed and loved;

Took each thing as it came and put it in place;

Recorded each smile, each frown, every face."

Then we can say that our life is worthwhile

And face the next day with a smile.

 

Within these lines my lament has its start

In scanning the surface of love, truth and art.

I beckon to this generation of man,

Take a look at yourself if you can;

To see where you're from and where you must go;

To see what you'll reap from the seeds that you sow.

 

Look in my mirror and see my heart,

But don't be surprised if you see a small part

Of your very own heart... Your very own soul.

Then look to yourself.

Seek to find your own goal.

 

Look Into My Mirror Part 4. The game

As the days may seem long, so is life just as short,

And time so fleeting that too soon it's gone;

But living should still be a joy,

Not a chore,

And if life is a task, then it's wrong.

 

For he who is always too busy to live,

Who lets selfish anger and greed rule his mind

Is missing so much of the meaning of life,

And so doing betrays his own kind.

 

So, let us think what can be done,

And let us all then act our parts.

For are we all not actors in the game of life

From the very start of life

As life we know and live.

Have we all not something to give:

 

A song, a poem, a moment of mirth.

The simple act of kindness is worth

So much in troubled times as these.

To think we can turn our heads withease

Makes my blood run cold with fear.

When men turn away without lendingan ear

To his brother in need,

And walk calmly away,

And ease his conscience anotherday.

 

Look Into My Mirror Part 3. The need to laugh

For I...

I am a wandering minstrel;

A jester of a thousand nights,

And days if day permits me

To jest in folly as the world ispassing the day

One moment to next

Laying up its gain.

 

Oh, world! I cannot understand you...

Coveting more... Forever more.

 

True. True.

It's something to do.

A thing worthwhile for some men.

They smile

And go about

To gain more and more.

 

I long for more...

For a better life.

I crave all the pleasures that life has to give.

But not so important I find them as most.

They're not to break one's back to gain.

 

I merely say, "What I have, Ihave.

                           What I gain, Igain."

 

What I have not makes for another day.

It's better not to fain desire

For those things that are out of reach...

                Out of sight.

To desire and not gain

Is to gain only pain.

 

To let pass by the folly in a smile,

In a laugh,

In a roar of mirth is a sin...

But to capture a moment for levity's sake

And to laugh at yourself

Is to win.

 

Look Into My Mirror Part2. The need to simplify

With all the world in apathy, still optimism dwells in me

Along with pessimistic views of this world that was meant tobe

A paradise for man to live, and not to die beneath itscrust.

But we have seen that all are fated once from dust to dust.

The contrasts mixed within our souls...

The paradox of life itself...

The mysteries explored by minds, explained by man

To no avail.

The love and hate... Both different, yet one...

The beauty of ugliness... The giant. The elf.

Success and failure in reaching our goals,

Though even succeeding still we fail

To grasp the meaning of it all.

We rise to a peak... We stumble and fall;

Yet pick ourselves up and continue our search;

To live life and love it for all it's worth.

For life in itself is a beautiful thing,

Meant only to bring out the best within men;

The love within man;

For the beauty of life is always at hand:

The free and unbound flight of abird...

The soft sweet silence ofnew-fallen snow...

The great chameleon forest of greenand yellow,

Of orange, of brown and gold...

The joy of a child,

Or an off-colored joke...

The thrill of a swim, or aski-riding boat...

The summer walks with the one youadore...

Just watching TV on a carpetedfloor.

The simplest things in this world seem to bring

The most joy to my heart through the winter and spring

And summer and fall.

No matter how small

I laugh at them all.

They give to my heart a lasting song,

And I'll sing it and love it my whole life long.

 

Look Into My Mirror

1. The question

In this there is nothing "for" me; but"of" me. It is yours.

For you to look inside of me; inside of me... And you.

Let me be your looking glass.

Discover what a new and different person,

Who you've never known before,

Dwells within, without, with all around one central core.

Humanity from man to man andinhumanity...

Competition runs between /betwixt...

Compassion once and rage again runhand in hand in me;

A vacuum where contrasting forcesmix.

A lilac in the early spring surprised by winter snow..

The blossom of a dying tree in crumbling to the earth.

The funeral procession and the laughter as we go about

Forgetting death... Has life such little worth?

We go about to fill our ears with business not our own.

We seek to know of tragedy; but not concerning us.

Yet, striking home a hurting blow is worse than worsest bad,

And no one knows our plight. We're drowned in dust.

In dust our eyes see dizziness inside our spinning heads.

The road unclear, we do not care, in part, as much to know

In which direction footsteps lead. We stumble through thedead

Until the dealer calls our bluff... It's time to go.

Life in a vacuum, struggling forair.

Mind of confusion going nowhere.

Mingling feelings... Vanishinghopes...

Time revealing tangling ropes

Of tied up ambitions offeringnaught

Of that satisfaction for which lifehas sought.

Confusion! Confusion is all that I see;

Sadness and happiness all around me.

Eight hour days and eight hour nights...

Land and sea and free-falling flights.

The oceans of air swirling round in my head

With the burnt leather stench of the things that are dead.

Decaying of man in his own burning flesh

While our visions of harmony want for a fresh,

A new, and equal start...

While peace through destruction seeks to depart

From peace through peace,

Which we never have known,

But have longed for and hoped for and needed so long.

 

Are we coming to end?

Will we ever begin to find the world we've waited to see?

Is it only our dust that will set us free?

One Last Word

Letme say just one more thing

BeforeI rest my quill and muse.

I’llmake no apologies to those

Bewilderedor bemused by

Theuncluttered caterwauling

Foundwithin these simple lines

Andpages to exemplify

Opinionsthat are clearly mine.

 

Youmay love or hate or view

Mywords with bland indifference.

Mayhapyou feel I castigate

Withmalice or impertinence.

 

Butwait.

 

Ihold no malice in my heart

Forany who might bid me same.

Toissue harm or cause alarm

Areitems that I dire disclaim.

Butdare not test the limits

Ofmy patriotic verve.

Itis resolute, with absolute

Perpetualreserve.

 

Decades

Ourlives are made up of decades

Fromzero to ninety-nine.  

Whenwe recollect the “Good Old Days”

Itis how we measure our time.

 

Thinkback on the roaring twenties:

Prohibition,speak-easies and flappers.

Thenit all fell apart in the thirties,

Thedepression distressing that chapter.

 

Theforties did not fare much better.

Thewhole world was a sad battle song.

Thenthe fifties saw wars, both hot and cold.

ThankGod! Rock and roll came along.

 

Thesixties saw turmoil with mobs in the street.

Theage of assassins. The pain of defeat.

Theseventies brought our resolve into question,

AndDisco and leisure suits were the obsession.

 

Theeighties and nineties were on cruise control

Asif common sense may have returned to the fold.

Somany lessons. You’d think we would learn.

Butwe just stalk the sidelines

Andwatch decades turn.

 

 

Neighborhoods

Oft’times I stroll about meadows green

Ordeep into the stately wood,

Butmore than not these measured treks

Traversethe local neighborhood.

Ilove a morning, crisp and clean,

Wheremindfulness is understood,

ButI avoid the burrs and ticks

IfI simply stroll the neighborhood.

Allthese mirrored cookie-cutter houses

Builtso long ago

Morphedby dwellers, claw and nail,

Tosuit their tastes and temperament.

 

Attimes, it can be better

Thana moving picture show,

Andhere am I to soak up

Everynuance, every element.

Achain-link-split-rail-picket fence

Tohide-divide each precious patch.

Goblins,sprites and garden gnomes,

Sonsand fathers playing catch.

Thishouse, this lawn neat and tidy,

Thatone an ungodly mess.

Somewith roses full in bloom,

Othersfully flowerless.

 

Amazingall the sights you see,

Amedley of the grim and good,

Ablending of humanity exists

Inevery neighborhood.

 

N.I.M.B.Y. (not in my back yard)

Everyoneagrees it’s a good idea,

Onethat will reap a real benefit.

Justdon’t put it in my back yard.

That’ssomething I simply will not permit.

 

Now,I’m not heartless, don’t you know?

Ifeel compassion for those folk,

ButI don’t want them in MY neighborhood.

MyGod! I think I’d have a stroke

 

IfI had to associate, or

Evenpass them on the street. No.

Letthem find someplace where

Indiscretionisn’t indiscreet.

 

What?You think I’m insincere?

Yousay that I’m a hypocrite?

Myfriend, I have you know that

Iam totally the opposite.

 

Idon’t mind if you have your way.

I’lleven stand as your vanguard.

Go!Build the project of your dreams…

Justnot in my back yard.