Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 92
March 21, 2023
Peanuts...
Peanuts, peaches, pulp and pine.
Up at sun up... Bed by nine.
Preaching Jesus... Cursing wine...
Always hoping for a sign
From up above to offer hope...
Ever trying hard to cope and
Justify a life so fine as
Peanuts, peaches, pulp and pine.
March 20, 2023
Top Dog
Top dog holds the handle.
Top dog pulls the strings.
Top dog keeps the biggest part,
The best of everything.
Top dog never feels the pain
Or taste the bitter sting.
Top dog is the champion who
Gets to wear the ring.
Top dog gets the grandest view,
The chance to taste it all.
Top dog rides the rooftops with
The farthest to fall.
March 19, 2023
The Expert
The expert stands in the midst of a pasture
Surrounded by cow pies and other manure,
Spreading advice like jelly on toast
Until hardly an ear can escape or endure.
Who could amass such a trivia trove?
Why must we listen?
When will it end?
Experts and bullshit hand in hand,
One washing the other, their only true friends.
Knowing it all is a cumbersome burden,
One that I hope never settles on me.
Hopefully there's always more for the learning.
"Expert" is one thing I don't want to be.
March 18, 2023
The Innocent Bystander
Just passing by,
Minding my business,
Meaning no harm,
Intending no wrong,
Wanting no evil
To darken my doorway,
Never expecting
To hear danger's song.
Resting my guard
In the cool of the evening,
Easing concern
As the world passes by,
Primed as a victim
To predators watching,
Walking contentedly
Where dangers lie.
Who would have known?
Who could have guessed
That the bystander's trust
Could have been so betrayed?
Just passing by,
Minding my business.
Left dashed, disillusioned,
Bashed and afraid.
March 17, 2023
Sparkles
Crystalline fireflies dance on the water
Like Mister Bojangles tapping a tune.
The sun settles in with the earth as its' pillow.
Its waltz on the water gives way to the moon.
Dewdrops awaken the clear mountain morning,
Touching the light to its' delicate beads.
Sparkling fancy foretelling the future,
The crystal of gypsies fulfilling our needs.
Champagne bubbles race to the surface,
A few clinging fast to the side of the glass.
Rising and gasping and bursting in air,
Joyfully, thankfully free at last.
Where do you look to find your sparkles?
What will you cling to when day is done?
Who will you sing to when shadows grow tall
And the lake waters dance with the setting sun?
March 16, 2023
Going Home
Dawn breaks across the north Georgia Mountains
Like a peek-a-boo child in a harmless game,
Flashing its' smile between tall standing pine,
Piercing the windows of the slow moving train.
Kudzu so thick by the side of the tracks
Blanketing hillsides, fences and trees,
Smothering, choking the edge of the forest,
Bringing the mighty oak to it’s' knees.
Off in the distance the cattle are grazing.
A corn field flies by topped with gold-braided hair.
The peaks and the valleys misted with bluish gray
Mystery, haunted by crisp morning air.
Pensiveness grows into anticipation,
Anxious to see those familiar faces,
Wondering what changes may have occurred.
Will you still recognize people and places?
Change is inevitable, constant, ongoing,
No matter how far or how long we may roam.
Shall we philosophize or be pragmatic?
No time to think of that.
We're going home.
March 15, 2023
If It's Good for You, It Must Taste Awful
Remember all those medicines
You took when you were little.
Paregoric, castor oil, vile liquids
Blackened to opaque.
Mom said, "It will make you better", but I do believe
I'd rather have green apples
And a three-day bellyache.
Where is justice? Sweet as honey.
Who decided in such haste
That everything that's good for you
Should have such awful aftertaste?
Flavor it with grape or cherry.
Mix it with some orange juice.
Tease it with a twist of lemon.
Bribe me with a chocolate moose.
Why can't ice cream be a cure-all
Instead of what we must endure?
Then we'd all be clamoring
To catch the illness for the cure.
Life is filled with irony
And one thing is always true...
It most likely will taste awful
If it's really good for you.
March 14, 2023
The Envelope Please
The suspense is building.
Anxiety runs thick in the air
Like the mist of a fog.
The crowd is aflutter
With anticipation.
Suspended in tension
Awake and agog.
Who could have written
This narrative drama
Dripping with circumstance,
Clinching its' fist
In white-knuckled wanting,
Holding its' breath,
Waiting to see
Whose star has been kissed?
Finally, the time is here.
A prayer ascends from bending knees.
Who will it be?
Will it be me?
Oh god! The envelope, please.
March 13, 2023
Waking Up in the Middle of the Night
I shouldn't have had that last glass of water,
That last cup of coffee,
Last drink of tea.
Shouldn't have drifted off
With a mind racing, recalling, reliving
The day angrily.
Dreams have a habit of walking the night,
Waking with fright as their victims fall prey,
Fearful of yesterday,
Dreading tomorrow,
Wondering what will arrive with the day.
Pity the mind can't erase all it's worry,
Blank out regrets and
Make everything right.
Sleep is too precious to be interrupted.
I hate waking up in the cold of the night.
March 12, 2023
What Is Your Hurry?
Vexed by the tide of the swamp which surrounds us,
Hurrying, scurrying all in a flurry.
Often forgetting to look where we're going,
Blind to the obvious, too much to worry
About. Catch the train or the plane,
See the man down the lane,
Take a pill for the pain before it slows you down.
Make a date just for two,
Keeping objects in view,
Just too much to get through,
Keeps you wearing a frown.
Is it not a concern
When the mind cannot learn
To put details in limbo and push it aside?
Tell me true, what's the rush?
Why the maddening crush?
Who gave you this bronco to ride?
