Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 266

Piled on

You’re a pip! You know that?
Putting all the weight on me as if
My shoulders easily can sore endure
The heavy load.
Possibly you’re trying hard
To break my spirit with your will.
Then again, you’re probably
Just being you, you helpless toad.
Take the burdens, pile them on.
Make the most of my contrition.
Rake my will til I submit
Forsaking hope of recompense.
Let me yield to your agenda,
Jet your burdens far away,
Get you to a safer haven,
Set the clock to common sense.
Put your frazzled mind at ease.
I will save you once again.
All your problems piled on.
Such a price to call you friend.

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Fru Fru

Such a prissy, sissy missy
Pattering, prattering all day long.
Light foot prancing, always dancing,
Making your master sing your song.
Just a fluffy little fru fru.
Nervous Nellie, take a pill.
Pompous with your pompadour.
Looking at you makes me ill.
When you speak, instead of warning,
Only an annoying whine.
All I want to tell you is to
Stick it where the sun don’t shine.
Some may say that you’re a sweet
And precious little cuddle-bug.
But it would suit me to a tee
To never see your fru fru mug.

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Bathed in Mediocrity

But seriously, what is really important to you?
When you’re home at the end of your busy day,
After fighting the wars of your daily trade,
Do you listen with interest to the evening news?
Do you vegetate til you slowly fade
To oblivious numbness? Blocking it out,
Hoping the world is a better place
Than the one portrayed. You want to shout
At the phantom, if you could find his face.
Hard to say what is truly important.
Always so much going on,
So bathed in mediocrity
You fail to see your Rubicon.
Time to find the larger picture,
Get the check and pony up.
Will you drink the loser’s lager,
Or sip champagne from the winner’s cup?

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Visitor to This Planet

I am just a visitor
Awaiting fate as yet unknown.
Wandering through time and space
Searching for a comfort zone.
Walking on her solid surface,
Taking in her pristine air,
Basking in her golden sunlight,
Nourished by her bounty fare.
Nesting by her deep blue waters
In a land diversified
By creatures large to miniscule,
Trying gently to abide.
Clinging close to nature’s treasure,
Keeping balance in my wake.
Knowing to replace its measure,
As it is not mine to take.
I will keep my sacred promise
Not to take more than my share.
For I am just a visitor
Sampling this planet’s ware.

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The Virgin Lynching

Weep no more, oh weepless one.
You’ve no reason to feel shame
If others found you circumspect
Without foundation to their claim.
You were strident in your way
To keep your virtue all in tact.
Staunch and stoic in your views,
No regret, no looking back.
When the world called you to task
You refused their wild demands,
Holding on and holding fast
As they passed you hand to hand.
Even as the noose was placed
Upon your alabaster skin
You were proud to sing out loud,
Wouldn’t let the bastards win.
And you’ve paid. Yes, dearly so.
All your senses put upon.
But your will was never broken.
In the end, you won.

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Pushed Back, Stomped On. Ouch!

Oomph! Hey! Watch it!
What’s wrong with you?
You got a burr up your bun, or what?
Stop trying to push your way ahead.
The rest of us have to wait our turn, so
Why not you? You selfish freak.
Yeah, it’s you I’m talking to.
Hey! Watch that, buddy.
You’re outta line.
Don’t make me get physical.
Ungh! Hey! Stop! That hurt a lot.
Ooof! Man! What’s the matter with you?
Get off!
Have you gone nuts, or what?
Ouch! Now look! That really hurt!
Oh yeah! So what?
Well, same to you.
I’d get up and pound you, but
I think I might have broken something.
Yes indeed.
My injuries may have saved your ass,
But now I guess we’ll never know.

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Wedgies. I Hate That

They seem to arrive at the oddest of times,
Inopportune moments their specialty,
Creeping and riding by millimeter
Until they find their resting place.
One never knows until standing erect
The full effect or to what degree.
By then it’s too late to alter your fate
Or to hide the blush upon your face.
You must adjust, must set things right
Before you take another step.
They all will know it anyway.
They’ll see discomfort in your stride.
You try your best to be discrete,
But none are so adept
That we can cover such a move
With any semblance of pride.
Might as well admit the truth.
Wedgies happen all the time.
Best to give a tug and heave.
After all, it’s not a crime.

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Creative Destruction

I guess it all began with the caveman
Developing skills meant to keep him alive.
A rock or a club or the strength of his hands,
Anything’s fair if it helps him survive.
Then he found ways to take the offensive,
First stick, then stone, then metallic ore.
The shaping of spears and arrows and slings,
The packs and the tribes were soon making war.
Then in a flash, a new wave of terror.
A spark ignites powder and Hell is released
On an unsuspecting humankind
With a fury that will never cease.
The waves of destruction keep pounding the shore
With creative minds finding new ways to kill.
Leaving the battlefields strewn with ashes,
Leaving our prodigy to pay the bill.
We’ve been destroying ourselves since creation
Though truth is as close as our own backyard.
We never paused to consider the question.
Destruction? That’s easy.
Creation is hard.

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Walk to the Beat

You fiddle while you diddle as
You piddle with your feet.
Marking time, making rhyme,
Dilly-bopping on your way.
Finding action in the traction
In the ground beneath your feet,
As the mumble and the rumble
Meet the jumble of the day.
Terrifying, mystifying,
Evil-eying circumstance
Turns to muddle in a puddle
As you cuddle in the dark.
Wistful melancholy thinking
Edges you toward the brinking
As your ship is slowly sinking
And you fail to hit the mark.
But the tide keeps slowly turning
Casting doubt upon the yearning,
Giving way to seeds of learning
That can save you from defeat.
And you keep the rhythm going,
Ever-growing, ever flowing,
Moving forward without knowing
As you’re walking to the beat.

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Sad Old Humpty Dumpty

They tried to put him back together
After his untimely fall.
All the vast resources of
The kingdom were employed.
But every effort, bold and noble,
All that medicine could muster
Could not bring him to the state
Of happiness he once enjoyed.
He was such a jolly elf,
Rollie-pollie out to play.
Filled with tireless energy,
Bounding through the fields all day.
He was merely resting when
He climbed that fateful wall.
Never saw it coming
When succumbing to his fall.
And even though he did survive
With help from horse and men,
Sad old Humpty Dumpty
Was never the same again.

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