Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 86

Fame and Glory, Glory and Fame

Do we reach for fame and glory

As our fateful star ascends?

Or does it come to seek us out?

A silent secret friend.

For some it's made of perspiration

Born of honest work,

Talent and ability,

Duty never shirked.

Lengthy in it's coming,

It lingers but a while.

Its sweetness is uncommon

Like the flavor of a smile.

But fame and glory climbing

Out of notoriety

Isn't quite the same,

And not what it's cracked up to be.

In a flash it comes and goes

Like lightning in a storm,

Leaving only empty feelings

Without shape or form.

As we struggle for the spotlight

So all will know our name,

Few will know the joy of glory

Or the price of fame.

Chocolate

Addictive? No! It couldn't be;

At least not physically.

Mentally is another matter.

I heartily agree.

Chocolate bars and chocolate chips

And German chocolate cake;

Frosting, icing, ice cream cones;

It makes the pallet ache.

Breathe in deeply;

Heaven opens up its pearly gates.

Place a sliver on the tongue

And paradise awaits.

There is just one problem;

If anyone is keeping score.

When it's gone, it leaves its' victims

Always wanting more.

 

The Evergreen

Crooked little evergreen

Growing up outside my window.

I've watched you from a seedling

In your struggle to be tall.

Weathering the passing seasons,

Never changing colors.

Disregarding winter,

Not bothering with fall.

 

Giving birth to like and kind,

Your lovely cones burst open

Gently nudged by wind and rain

To kiss the needled ground.

Stirring, stretching in the breezes,

Whispering a love song.

Sheltering, nurturing,

Peaceful hearts abound.

Some may deem your crooked branches

A sight too sore to see,

But I can see your character,

And you're beautiful to me.

 

Losing

No one ever said that losing

Is a joyful thing.

The simple point in fact is...

Losing stinks!

No one rides the losers

On their shoulders from the field,

Pats their backs

Or takes them out for dinner or fordrinks.

Yet losing is a part of life

Most difficult to learn,

And no one knows enough

To teach it well.

We can only play the game

And do our level best

To not create, in losing,

Our own private little hell.

 

A Blade of Grass

What is in a blade of grass?

That simple, slender wisp of green.

What nature's secret makes it grow?

What miracle unknown, unseen?

From tiny seed too small to hold,

Or born a distance by the wind,

Nurtured by the sun and rain

'Til anchored in the earth again.

Sprouting, growing, taking root.

Reaching out to kiss the sky.

Ever changing with the seasons;

Desperate not to die.

What is in a blade of grass?

Life.

Life.

 

Downtown

Who planted these trees that havegrown so tall?

I stand amongst them feeling small.

Giant trees of steel and concrete

That make the sequoia and redwoodpetite.

Massive cathedrals to live and towork.

Menacing forests where nightcreatures lurk.

Ground-level paths where the sunnever shines.

Back streets and alleyways. Havens forcrime.

Yet, something about it keeps drawingthem back.

Saints and do-gooders brave theattack.

From beggar to princess, from priestto clown,

All breeds and all creeds can befound

Downtown.

 

Truth in Advertising

Talk about oxymoron!

This one takes the cake.

When it comes to truth in advertising

There can be no mistake.

The two words shouldn't even be

In the same vocabulary.

'Caveat emptor', buyer beware;

Listen, but always be wary.

Competitors never tell the truth

Regardless of who takes the stand.

"I'm better!"  "He stinks!"

"Don't buy his product.

Buy ours. We think we're grand."

Each one accuses

The other of falsehood,

So, who knows which product to buy?

The only sure thing about advertising

Is that someone will surely tell alie.

 

Everybody Has the Best Mom

“My Mom is thebest Mom ever,”

Said everyone inthe history of time.

Every adjectiveand superlative

From phenomenal tosublime is

Tossed in reverentwonder to

Her angeliccomposure,

And she must seema patron saint

To everyone whoknows her.

 

It isn’t hard tounderstand

Why moms arealways so revered,

Their swiftapproval needed

And herretribution feared.

The very first tostroke your brow,

To tell you that,”I love you.”

Just knowing shewill always be

And put no oneabove her.

 

No matter whowalks through our life

Or what flag isunfurled,

It is agreed

                    That we all have

The best Mom inthe world.

 

Waiting for the Train

Stone and steel, track and rail,

Aged by sun and rain.

All the world parading by,

Waiting for the train.

Bleak and stark, the station waits

In sore need of repair,

Rusting, peeling,

Iron and concrete,

Captioned in despair.

Still the travelers storm its' gates

In passive mute attack;

Destinations never heard of

Somewhere down the track.

Every flavor, every fashion,

Oregon to Maine.

There's no telling what you'll seewhile

Waiting for the train.

 

Smiling

If you've ever tried to smile

When you were mad,

Then you should know,

It isn't possible to do them both.

A smile's a carefree, unassuming,

Happy crescent moon,

Immune to hatred,

Knowing none of loath.

 

When you smile your happy muscles

Reach deep down inside your brain,

Turning all aggression upside down.

It's true! A smile can cause your

Cloudy sky to clear of rain,

And wipe away a mournful sad-faced frown.

 

So, next time, when your ire isstirred

And your craw is filled with bile,

Try putting on a happy face.

Forget yourself... And smile.