Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 144

Take a Tissue

Sitting in silence, head bowed, eyes lowered,

Awaiting the tribute that sorrow bestows.

Most stalwart patrons are stoic, unmoving

Except for a jostle to reset position.

 

Dressed up in finery, scrubbed and bejeweled,

Ladies in hats, overdone in perfume.

Men pulling ties from the back of the closet,

Hoping that no one will notice the stain.

 

Laughter of children noticeably absent.

Dare not expose. Would not understand.

Craving a cigarette, fighting the urge.

Will anyone notice if I sneak away?

 

Somewhere a whimper, a sniffle or cough

Reminds the gathered that life still exists,

Moving with surety sunrise to sunset, then

Resting a bit to start over again.

 

After the weeping and wailing is over,

After the tissues are all thrown away,

After the sorrow evolves to remembrance,

Let there be laughter;

Let there be food.

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Setback

‘Must keep moving forward,’ says the boss,

‘Must outpace competition.’

Cannot pause to rest the weary.

Barely time to dress their wounds.

 

Fix this, patch that, leap a hurdle,

Quick step, side step if you dare.

Zero tolerance for stooges.

Even less for Looney Toons.

 

Deadlines loom as thunderheads.

Setbacks threatening to drench a

Fateful plan, to wash away all hint

Of progress, kill the dream.

 

Deadpan faces dressed as zombies

As they goosestep in close ranks.

Worker bees surround the hive

Dead set to protect their queen.

 

Can’t afford one more delay.

One more setback does us in.

Too much pressure,

Little pleasure,

So much hassle just to win.

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Freelance Forgiveness

It’s so hard to be your friend.

I know. I’ve tried for years.

Time and time and yet again

We’ve languished over bitter tears.

 

Times of sore frustration

I could clock you to the ground. Then

Considered situation of

Not having you around.

 

Times of panic when it seemed

The whole world was our foe.

Simple odd-lot soul mates teamed

To weather out the flow.

 

Often times in anger

Muted conversation reigned.

But never was there danger

That we wouldn’t speak again.

Whether others share our cares

Is simply not our business.

We are multi-millionaires in

This freelance forgiveness.

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Stepping in Dog Poop

Climbing in behind the wheel,

A day like any other.

Everybody buckle up before

The gears engage.

Calm and steady,

Racked and ready,

Primed to face the day.

Not a thought of malcontent,

Not a hint of rage.

 

Then from out of nowhere comes

A frightful affectation, a

Cruciferous, odoriferous,

Cankerous projection

Stepping onto senses like

A giant squashing bugs,

Quick to recognize the smell,

My mind keys the connection.

 

Find a curb, a patch of grass to

Dance the stench away.

Kiss my happy mood goodbye…

Another ruined day.

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Did I Do That?

Leaves me wondering…

Leaves me wandering…

Leaves me worrying,

Could it be true?

Could I have been so

Completely distracted?

Uniquely detached from

Reality’s realm.

 

Caught in the maelstrom of

Everyday wishes,

Tedium’s puppet just

Waiting to dance.

Sightless to change

Bouncing off of my forehead,

Stilled til my senses

Become overwhelmed.

 

Sudden, my sight becomes

Keen as a cat.

Leaves me to wonder…

Did I do that?

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Forgotten

No one wants to be forgotten,

Vanishing into the foggish

Memory of misbegottens,

Tapering to miniscule

Fragments of frenetic thought

Oxidizing into rust.

 

Large in life, behemoth that you are

In lavish local lore,

Can’t imagine that your memory could

Fade into the night to

Nothing but a radar blip

Scarcely noticed to trained eyes.

 

Much more frightening than dying,

So much angst to toss about,

Think about,

Talk about,

Howl and whine and shout about.

Will history and legacy be filled with fact

Or lined with lies?

 

Though the thought be bittersweet,

Kind, unkind, unjust.

Someone please remember when my

Aging bones return to dust.

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Frozen

Could I but capture this blissful moment

Frozen in time, I would.

Were you to bait my soul to surrender,

It would be well understood.

 

Seeking caresses of your midnight flower

Leaves me in ecstasy’s wake

Taunting my senses to new heights of freedom,

Challenging to elevate.

 

I was but callow, shallow, emotionless

Prior to the being of you.

Fighting off daylight, shrinking to midnight,

Living in deep shades of blue.

 

You are my gulf stream, killing off  icebergs,

Leading me to pristine shore.

All that my frozen heart needed to thaw.

Filled…

Never wanting for more.

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Fried

Chicken, mushrooms, green tomatoes,

Ice cream, mozzarella sticks.

Deep fried, refried, home fried

With pride. Momma! Cook it quick.

Fried zucchini, fried potatoes,

Pork chops in a pan.

Shortening, lard or olive oil,

I’m your biggest fan.

So, my blood gets sticky platelets.

I’ll just take a pill;

Eat a drumstick or a wing

Until I have my fill.

Grandma cooked with love and lard;

Lived to ninety-two.

Cholesterol and hypertension?

Words she never knew.

Okay. So, they did a study.

And my doctor says, “Take care.

Live in moderation and

Make yourself aware.”

Still, I have suspicions, thinking

Someone must have lied.

God’s cruel joke to make it bad

Just because it’s fried.

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Part Two

How you trickle silently,

Thoughtless of the grains already

Falling prey to gravity,

Filling up her bottom half.

 

Early on the hourglass was

So top-heavy, slow to empty,

Moving with the speed of trees

Left growing on the mountainside.

 

Then somewhere along the way

Your flow increased eleven-fold,

Smothering the future in an arid,

Acrid storm of dust.

 

Memories belittle any distant dream

Of wealth or fame,

Settling instead for hope of

Reinstated afterlife.

 

Let there be no sad regret.

Let there be no sorrow.

Part two isn’t over yet.

I wait to meet tomorrow.

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Half Way To…

Stuck here in the middle of

The muddle as we

Huddle just to cuddle in the

Puddle with the subtlety of fish.

 

Kiss the weary wanderers who

Happen by to ponder their

Decision, growing fonder of

A never-ending wish.

 

Look back over yesterday,

The freakish fracas of dismay,

The trifle trophies on display up

High upon a shelf.

 

Welcoming the changing tide.

Climb aboard the golden ride to

Sail tomorrow’s other side

Without a thought for self.

 

Come to center.

Brave the winter months

That lie in certainty.

Join the throng in blissful song.

Take me where I want to be.

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