Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 90

Crossroads

Many a life has been

Planned at the crossroads,

Choosing directions

With last minute ease.

Standing with back turned to

Past indiscretions,

Looking for new roads,

Facing the breeze.

Left turn... Right turn...

Right straight ahead...

Up turn... Return,

Back to the womb.

Crossroads beckon,

Prod and confuse,

Crowded theater

Where destinies loom.

So much to live for...

Too much to lose...

We stand at the crossroads

And choose.

 

Survivor

Here's to those who went before

From those they left behind.

Raise a glass to those who can't.

Give them all their due.

We are all survivors of

That ancient human breed.

Revel in the fortune of

The gift they've given you.

 

Guided by ancestral myth,

A driving curiosity

So strong that every fiber seeks

To know the answers to it all.

Never truly satisfied,

Always wanting more,

Needing to know what adventure

Lies beyond the wall.

 

Lovely candle burning bright

Until your flame becomes a ghost,

Leaving other sad survivors

Raising glasses in a toast.

 

Breathing In, Breathing Out

We spend a life with the rise and fall

Of a heaving, sighing, yearning chest,

That ancient human ritual

Of breathing in... Breathing out.

Some great power in its wisdom

Gave to us this simple method,

Put the air in space

And taught our race

What it was all about.

Fortunate we are

It's an involuntary act.

If humans had to think of it,

We all would wind up dead.

But some great power in its wisdom

Planted it subconsciously

Deep within the dark recesses

Of our feeble mortal heads.

 

Sorrowful lamenting,

Understanding without doubt,

Life is done too quickly...

Breathing in... Breathing out.

 

Monsters in the Closet

Hairy, gruesome, tall and ugly,

Lurking in the darkened hallways,

King Kong, Yeti and the Wolfman

Seeking unsuspecting prey.

 

Huddled deep inside my closet,

Waiting for my eyes to close,

Hungry fangs and bloody claws

Prepared to rip my face away.

 

Covers are my sanctuary,

Pulled up high above my head.

Shielded thus in restless slumber,

Waiting for the light of day.

 

Monsters dwell in darkened closets.

Do we face them?  Do werun?

In my youth I ran to cover.

Seems like only yesterday.

 

Who Killed All the Dragons?

What could have happened to the hungry beasts?

The two headed, fire breathing, villainous freaks

Who stalked the poor villagers

Seeking a virtuous virgin

To dine on as sacrifice.

Was it all fantasy? Morbid amusement?

Olden day Norman Bates preying on victims

Too weak to defend themselves,

Spinning its web of entrapment

To close like the jaws of a vice.

Where are the dragons?

What is their story?

Are they in hiding?

Did they disappear?

Don't be deluded, believing they're gone.

Who killed the dragons?

No one.

They are here.

 

Atlantic City

Let me at those one armed bandits...

Pull the lever...

Watch it roll...

Win a fortune... Lose a pension...

Let fly with another spin.

 

Place a bet and pray for seven...

Toss the dice into the pit.

Snake eyes stare back at your wallet

As you drop another fin.

 

Roulette table hypnotizes,

Play a number... Black or red.

As the clicking wheel winds down,

You order up another gin.

 

Lucky blackjack is the ticket.

Bet the farm on twenty-one.

Just another foolish gamble

As you take it on the chin.

 

Strolling out onto the boardwalk,

Empty hands for company.

Thinking, "Next time, maybe next time

It will be my turn to win".

 

Touch

Fingertips trip gently over

Soft and supple skin,

Beckoning response to silent

Questioning, unasked.

Mystery of mysteries,

The power of perception,

Ghost of wisdom ages gone,

The phantom yet unmasked.

 

Teaching just to be alive,

Reaching out to rainbow's end,

Companioning with sight and sound,

Always searching for a friend.

 

Never getting quite enough,

No such trifle as too much,

Walking tall through lives of plenty

Savoring the things we touch.

 

The Crest of the Hill

We climbed the incline slowly,

Hand in hand we made our way.

With even pace we sauntered,

Quiet pauses now and then,

Like a respite from the torrid heat

Of a midsummer day,

Just another peaceful stroll

Arm in arm with my best friend.

 

Now the hill has crested

Underneath our heavy soles.

The level road no longer hides

Our passions and our goals.

They all are stretched before us,

Ours to capture and fulfill.

I'm so thankful you are with me

On the crest of this, our hill.

 

It Happened On Paradise Road

No one knew on that fateful night

What was going to happen on Paradise Road.

The air was stirred electric with

The heat of passion mounting fast.

Two young brave and cocky souls,

Abandoning discretion,

Set out to prove what didn't matter

To anyone but the two of them.

 

Who is quickest off the line?

Who is fastest in the stretch?

Which will reach the guidepost first

With seconds ticking past?

Egos stretched to maximum,

Pride their guiding father,

Betting that their lives will be

Enriched by such a whim.

 

Who could know?

Who could predict

How tragedy could prod and goad?

The toll was heavy on the night

It happened out on Paradise Road.

 

Beauty and Splendor

I thought I had seen it all

In terms of beauty and splendor,

Of earthly delights.

Seen the leopard in chase,

Seen the Rockies... Majestic,

The span of the eagle in flight

Over fields and rivers so wide

That the other side seems

A distant memory.

Seen the simple act of

A nurturing child bounced

Upon it's mother's knee.

I've seen the Big Apple,

The towering pines,

Seen the red sun on the rise,

But none can compare

With the beauty and splendor

I find when I look in your eyes.