Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 216

Torque

Hunker up and make me spin.
Hunker down and twist again.
Keep the pressure turning in
So we can glide into the wind.

Twisted with a finger wrench,
Not a worry, not a pinch,
Feather light, intent to quench,
Fulfilling every measured inch.

Every moment hand in hand
Seals the bond so neatly planned,
Tightening our troubled band
Into a strong united stand.


We have been and yet will be Purveyors of utility.
Wheels revolve eternally
To make us one,
To set us free.


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Accolades

Praise upon prolific praise
Heaped up to the hilt,
An avalanche of accolades
Falling from the sky.
A maraschino cherry topping
Mounds of whipping cream,
Tickles of a Ferris wheel
Twenty stories high.

Beat the drum for all who come
To sing their heroes praise.
Shine the subtle spotlight
On the golden haloed hair.
Tell the hallowed haunting tale
That led to paths of glory,
Trials and tribulations overcome
To get to there.

Will you find it difficult
Accepting tributes prize?
Have you earned the worshiping
Reflected in their eyes?
We are but mere mortals
Acting out our escapades,
Hoping to be worthy
Of accepting accolades.

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Bamboozled

What say we go dupe the dope?
Give him just enough of the
Unwinding rope to satisfy, mollify,
Catch his eye and offer hope
Where hopelessness alone prevails.
Hear the senseless plaintive wails
Softly as they emanate
But fail to reach the ears of fate,
Gasping as they grope.

Pray! Who are these bamboozlers?
These plausible confuselers,
These hearty, hateful handlers,
These unexcused excuselers
Who prey on pretty pitifuls
With easily committables,
Trancing and then trampling
The lame and limping snoozelers.

Must the weary always be
The victims of such piracy?
Failing to transcend the
Vague illusion of transparency.
Open eyes can catch the prize
And yet avoid bamboozlement,
If only they are tuned and wise;
If only they are meant to see.

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Contiguous

As nighttime follows daylight,
As sidewalks hug the street,
As fingers fold to handshakes
And the music forms a beat,

The second hand sweeps constantly
Erasing yesterday.
And who will know the overflow
That swiftly slips away.

Is it not all connected
In some melancholy rhyme?
Are we to be suspected of
Diminishing in time?

And there are lessons to be learned,
And patterns to obey
In skillfully connected
Interactive interplay.

And daylight yields to nighttime,
And the street is sidewalk’s friend.
Our hands enfold in friendship
And the music never ends.

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Dilatory

Putting on the putting off
Leads to yet another story,
While the moans of lazy bones
Speaks in volumes dilatory.

If the season captures reason
In the rhythm of the rhyme,
Chances are the pithy plan will
Meet demand to end on time.

But if sidetracks switch the cargo
And the focus goes awry,
Who is left the beastly burden?
Who explains the where and why?

Let me be the fiend of focus,
Crack the whip and set the course,
Dash the dilatory demon,
Banish him with lethal force.

Heroes haunt the halls of rescue
Never seeking fame or glory,
Always in the nick of time,
Never late or dilatory.

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Oxymoron

It’s been a long-short, easy-hard,
Noisy-quiet time since the
Frizzy-frazzle, paddy-paddle
Came-went away.
And the clearly muddled message
Of our logical-nonsensical
Led us all to follow
What unspoken words can say.

And the moving stillness calls us
In a voice we cannot hear
With a razor dullness sharper
Than the blunt end of a spear.
Come and heed the mute rendition
Of a song no one is singing.
Come and wrap your restless arms
Around the nothing that is there.

We will win the losers battle.
We will fight them in retreat,
Run to cover with a vengeance,
Raise our flag in proud defeat.
They shall feel our passive anger,
The grave weakness of our might.
We will teach an unlearned lesson
In surrendering to fight.

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Minx

Bold and brazen little minx,
Champion of a thousand winks,
Cast your cares and flaunt your wares
In hottest shades of reds and pinks.

Flap and flash and fairy dust
Sparkling in flaxen hair.
Not a care to cloud the way,
Every day a fantasy.

Subtlety a distant thought,
Seldom caught with set designs.
Don’t want to be left behind
When all the fun begins.

Walking tall where labels stick,
Stepping quickly in the mix.
No regrets, no looking back,
Knowing all the traps and tricks.

Just be careful and beware.
There is danger everywhere.
Seeds of lust do not breed trust
In victims who accept your dare.

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Ricochet

Born of power, unafraid,
Totally indifferent to the caste and class
Written in the logs and ledgers of the world.
Cased in brass, ready to ignite with fury
In an instant, sending forth the unsuspecting infant
Hurtling with deadly force.

Traveling more than sight and sound,
Cutting, screeching through the air
Defying friction, gravity,
Screaming hot with total dread.
Searching for a target,
     Any target that may cross its path.
Nothing to impede the speed,
     Must concede to destiny.

But the object of desire
Hides behind an obstacle unexpected,
Unprotected from the fury and the wrath.
Now the path has been deflected, and
Your target redirected.
Who must fear your ricochet?
No one really knows.

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Boomerang

Swiftly she travels in circular patterns,
Banking off currents, too busy to care about
Rules of inertia, bending the air.
Coming to rest where her journey began.

Bands of perception trickle and tickle the
Soul of deception replete in your sail.
Winds of experience always prevail as the
Hourglass sharpens and runs out of sand.

We who have known you are ever attuned
Of your vigilant countenance, true to a fault,
Tempted to vault over hillside and valley
Only to turn and return to the nest.

And those who you touch, may the angels be with them,
Heaven forgive them and all of their seed.
Quenching the need of our civilized union,
Putting our labors to rest.

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Charisma

There is a power,
     Mostly unnoticed,
That touches perception
     Drawing its pleasure,
Feeding off charm and
     Self-deprecation,
Taking and giving
     In equal measure.

Siphoning pressure
     Defusing the tension,
Total suspension of
     Fusion and flack.
Taking the brunt of
     Blunt confrontation,
Turning it inside out,
     Giving it back.

Here is a gift
     Given to but a few,
Humble and silent,
     Hidden from view.

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