Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 272

June 27, 2018

Zero Hour

Check again.  Is all in order?
Have you everything?
Check out time and you're not ready.
Typical to say the least.
Piddle, piddle, dawdle, diddle,
Never in a rush until
Zero hour comes and you
Become a raving beast,
Ranting, rushing willy-nilly,
Hither-tither to and fro.
Time ticks shorter every second
Watching your impatience grow.
Planning would have been a plus.
Perhaps you wouldn't be so sour
If you had concentrated, honing in
On this, the zero hour.

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Published on June 27, 2018 02:04

June 26, 2018

X-Ray of the Soul

Broken bones can be detected,
Then set in place to heal.
Physicians never have to guess
With modern day machines.
Take a picture. Look inside.
X-ray will reveal
The battered, tattered, broken matter
That was previously unseen.
Sad to say this wonder,
This precious miracle,
Is not the grand solution to all ill.
If only we could somehow take
An x-ray of the soul,
Very few could stand
To pay the bill.

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Published on June 26, 2018 03:30

June 25, 2018

"X" Marks the Spot

On a multicolored treasure map created and
Designed by youth,
Experience draws lines and markers,
Scaling facts,
Pointing truth.
Goals begin to focus as
Objectives become clear.
Fact spreads like a virus
As calm belabors fear.
Hoping to achieve,
Glad to receive the gifts we got.
Searching, ever searching,
For the 'x' that marks the spot.

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Published on June 25, 2018 02:15

June 24, 2018

Wash Day

Mom's old wringer washer was an ominous contraption,
Back porch dweller, silent sentinel.
But wash day saw it spring to life
With reckless wild abandon,
A fire-breathing dragon sent from hell.

Water drawn from nearby well
To feed her empty belly,
Carried pail by pail 'til she was full.
Grinding agitation as she
Mauled her fabric diet,
Everything from silk to scratchy wool.

Mother's little helpers would
Complain and run away,
Much too busy for such mundane tasks.
Totally exasperated, trudging on ahead,
She'd grit her teeth and don her mother's mask.

Washing, wringing, rinsing, ringing,
Ringing once again,
Seemed a never-ending carousel.
Difficult but necessary,
Mom did not complain.
She tamed the weekly dragon sent from hell.

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Published on June 24, 2018 02:19

June 23, 2018

Walking Through the Wood

Master rabbit foraging,
Where is your home address?
Do you believe I mean no harm?
Forgive me to confess that
I am only passing through your
Neighborhood upon this day,
An interested observer
Here to watch you as you play.

Walking through the wood
In search of secrets, natures guise.
Pleasuring my mind with beauty
Filtered through these eyes,
Sheltered in your forest womb,
A modern Robin Hood,
Seeking peace and solitude
Walking through the wood.

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Published on June 23, 2018 02:09

June 22, 2018

Victory Is Easy - But Someone Has To Lose

Winning can be such a welcome bouquet.
Roses and lilacs should smell half as sweet.
Victory rides on the wings of the tides to leave
Sparkling pearls on the shore at our feet.
Counted so rare, the favor we savor
When triumph uplifts over summit and peak.
Hardly a thought of the depths of dilemma
Suffered by those trodden down in defeat.

Winning is easy. It bears not the burden
Of inward reflection, inspection or thought.
A wild and untethered complete celebration
Is what you expect from the battle you fought.
But out in the wings there awaits a new challenge.
Take care which opponent you knowingly choose,
For only the winner can claim victory's laurels.
Someone has to lose.

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Published on June 22, 2018 02:47

June 21, 2018

Voices from The Past

Oft life offers difficulties,
Plagues of indecisiveness,
Barrel-chested thugs who pound
On reason with an iron fist.
Cannibals of logic,
Clear confusion from mass offerings,
Twisted, thwarted, thrashed and trashed
'Til every point is soundly missed.

What would FDR have done?
Would doctor King just preach and pray?
Would Confucius have the answer?
What would Gandhi say?
Would your grandpa share your burden?
Could old friend's advice apply?
Can philosophers of old help lift
The darkness from your eyes?

There's a time for us to listen,
Keeping pace, but not too fast.
A cloak of benefit abides within
These voices from the past.

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Published on June 21, 2018 02:12

June 20, 2018

Visionary

Future calls to visionaries
With a voice so subtle that
It's only heard in whispers
Born on gently curving winds.

Sighted knowledge bears ideas
Filling oceans of the mind,
Giving nurture to the fruitful
Garden that we tend.

Scoffed and mocked and laughed about
For laying bare the plots and schemes.
Still unscathed with brow well-set
In seeking out their wildest dreams.

Always there, just out of reach,
An overflowing treasure chest.
Visionaries reach beyond,
Clutching diamonds to their breast.

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Published on June 20, 2018 02:09

June 19, 2018

Useless Conversation

Almost a whisper the ear strains to hear,
Caught in a circle with no place to go.
Merely a greeting, a "how do you do?"
Rhetorical. Really not wanting to know.

Yesterday's detail reviewed once again.
Polite chit-chat, etchings mundane.
Simple retelling of soap opera lives
Can drive thinking people to think they're insane.

Wrapped up in newspaper, out with the trash...
Like a fish three days after it's caught.
Time better spent immersed in invention,
The simple art of common thought.

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Published on June 19, 2018 03:08

June 18, 2018

Under The Sheltering Pines

Carpeting brown beneath canopy green,
Layer on layer so spongy and plush
That the sole of my shoe makes no sound
As I stroll through the stand,
So endearing, I dare not to rush.
Afraid I may miss the sweet laughter of robins
Proclaiming their conquest
Pulled fresh from the earth.
I seek out their nesting place every springtime,
Amazed and bewitched at nature's rebirth.

But the pine is a constant.
It always endures.
With roots running deeper than diamond mines.
So blissful to saunter,
Admiring the view,
In the shade of the sheltering pines.

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Published on June 18, 2018 04:07