Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 8

Predator

It creeps. It crawls.

It leaps and brawls.

It keeps its claws

Razor honed.

In stealth it walks

Without a squawk

With heart as hardened as a stone.

 

Beware the ruthless predator

Who kills without remorse.

Whose only instinct is survival,

Only tool is brutal force.

 

Do not dare present a frailty

Else you chance reveal a flaw

That he can use to his advantage

And slash you with his massive paw.

 

When the night is cold and dank

And you walk the streets alone,

Beware the loathsome predator

Whose scruples are unknown.

 

One Day

I wake up every morn

And it’s today; just one day.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way,

So, here I’ll stay.

While some may freak and try to run away (faraway),

I just can’t wait to get things underway.

 

I’ll never see this wonderous day again,

This one day.

I’ll treat it like an old and trustedfriend

Come what may.

And though it may be fleeting like thewind

I won’t ask it where it’s going,

I won’t ask it where it’s been.

 

So, if you have a chance to celebrate

Just one day

Invite yourself to frolic, romp and play

For just that day.

No matter what good etiquette might say

You can really have it all

For just one day.

 

 

Sing

I have always loved to sing

Ever since my tender youth.

But good fortune did not bless

My vocal cords, if I must tell the truth.

 

Though my voice might creak and crackle

And my pitch could stand a tweak,

And my throat be filled with gravel,

And my breath wearied and weak,

I will lift it ever upward,

So, let listeners ears beware.

Where my dulcet bellowing should land

I truly do not care.

 

All I really mean to say,

The news I am trying to convey,

If feeling happy is your thing

Just open up your mouth and sing.

 

Forever

Some think it clever

To think of forever

As something that never

Shall come into play.

 

But every endeavor

Defers to discover

Forever is ever

A heartbeat away.

 

Every story embodies three parts:

A beginning, a middle, an end.

Lost in a rhythmic void circling about,

To begin all over again.

 

Some think it fantasy

Drifting an endless sea.

Others may disagree with proper doubt.

How can we ever know

Where this forever goes?

God, grant us wisdom to

Figure it out.

 

A Universal Truth

Looking for purpose.

Looking for proof.

Seeking the one universal truth

To unlock the mysteries

Hiding in histories of

Ill-fated fantasies

Wasted in youth.

 

Gazing with wonderment

Into the firmament,

Into the endlessness

No eyes can see.

So much unknown

And not one thing is permanent,

Nothing holds fast through

The vast galaxies.

 

So, why are we caught

In this brief span of time?

And why should we care for our brother?

The one pure truth in the whole universe:

We were put here to love one another.

 

Territory

The tiger stalks the restless night

On silent, deadly haunches.

He fears no beast who violates

His chosen territory.

He weaves the magic of his trade

In stealth among the branches

Prepared to launch swift onslaught

On his unsuspecting quarry.

 

The human species, much less subtle,

Decries his claim out loud.

A birthright or a postulation

Written or inscribed,

A strident declaration fully stated

Loud and proud that

“This is mine,” complete and certified.

 

All are territorial,

The buzzards, bats and bees.

They all band together

In their closed communities.

Except the lonely tiger

Who rejects even his own.

He prowls his territory

Cloaked in silence, all alone.

 

Carry the Weight

Some burdens can be heavy in a world

That often comes undone,

Usually with a hefty price to pay.

Setting out at dawn to avoid the noondaysun

May ease the difficulty to be

Found along the way.

 

Complaints are common entities

To wrap around the tongue, and

Give voice to the difficulties shared.

But no one likes a whiner

And no one wants to listen,

And in the end the truth is, no one cared.

 

Oh, they cared enough to set a goal,

To weigh you down with good advice,

To tell you everything will turn out fine.

But in the end you are left to fend alone

To see it through and to

Carry the weight across the finish line.

 

 

One Step at a Time

Feeling fully overwhelmed and

Being pulled in a jillion directions.

No idea of what should come next.

No time to pause in frustrated reflection.

 

When it began, such a simple plan

All laid out and mapped on the page.

But then “this” came up

And “that’ interrupted,

Then “the other” sent things in a rage.

 

Flap and frustration,

Discombobulation and

Panic and frenzy and dread.

Doors swing open wide and

There’s no place to hide

And there’s nothing left to be said.

 

Stop! Back up! Get a grip on reality.

No need to muse or opine.

Just find a clear point to start overagain

And move forward

One step at a time.

 

I Hate Hate

Passions run deep where rivers flow with

Needs that flex and stretch and grow,

And somehow no one seems to know

Who stole the bounty, seized the gold.

 

Hate becomes the chosen game,

Those not like us assigned the blame

And naught can ever be the same

When stories have, at last, been told.

 

Nothing in a civil sphere

Can sanctify the bane and fear

That hate can transfer far and near

To paint the world in black.

 

And every parcel of dispute

Can be repaired beyond repute

If understanding in pursuit

Is used to stay on track.

 

Hate can never win the day.

It just exacerbates.

And I declare, decree, decry this motto:

I hate hate.

 

Remember

Remember when the world was

So much simpler than it is today?

A time when there was time

To fizzle all those frilly fears away.

 

Nothing so important that it

Could not wait another day

As peace would overwhelm and

Occupy us in our work and play.

 

Playing in the open air,

Not a worry, not a care.

Warm winds blowing through our hair

As summer warmed our skin.

 

Splashing puddles in the rain,

Skinned knees, stinging bees, anklesprains.

Mom would kiss away our pain

And make our losses feel like wins.

 

But time is fickle as it moves

In ever-forward increments.

Has no memory, has no end,

No concept of the sacraments.

And every soul eventually

Cries out in anguish and laments

Remembering when things were good

And happy times were better spent.