Champions
Champions come in all shapes and sizes,
Every color the rainbow imagines,
Reaching for stars in a far distant galaxy,
Braced and prepared for the battles ahead.
Rising from underdog,
Capturing moments of untold adventure
With banners unfurled.
Aware of the fanfare but unfazed by fame
From a frilled flock of followers
Riding the wave.
Pulling on bootstraps,
Constantly focused,
Flaunting due diligence,
Always prepared.
Riding the wind on the winged steed of glory,
Humble in victory,
Grateful to win.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Making the Grade
Year after year of brain-stretching agony
Bending the limits of tempered endurance,
Tables and intos and plus-minus posers
Til X becomes Y becomes, magically, Z.
Long-winded tales filled with dates and dead people
Wasted on battlefields far, far away.
Stories of Camelot, Sherwood and Hannibal
Camped beneath bed sheets with flashlight in tow.
Cries of rebellion for useless assignments
Fall on deaf ears, go completely unheard.
Oft being quoted, “Oh, you’ll thank me later.”
Though never quite clear when this “later” occurs.
Days wrought with dread of those sheets lined with questions,
Problems and essays and multiple choices.
Waiting for marks through unbearable agony,
Never quite sure…
Never quite sure…
Time marches sideways through twelve years of prison,
Forced into labor ‘til all due is paid.
Finally, time boldly steps to the future,
Silent and thankful for making the grade.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Showing posts with label poetry corner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry corner. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Poetry and Prose Corner July 2014
Just Because You Are You
Splendor bides to celebrate
The magic that is only you, and
Wonder wanders commonplace
When cradled, nestled by your side.
Moonlight pales as constellations
Ride your wave of endless sky, and
Ocean overflows her bounty,
Tranquil in your evening tide.
Not because the world stops spinning.
Not because time takes a pause.
Not that logic dictates that
What once was false is somehow true.
Words can never be a profit
To predict your story’s end.
You fulfill your destiny
… Just because you are you.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Nostalgia
Sweet whipped cream memories, Ghosts from the past
Sleep soft on my shoulder, a whisper away,
Come calling, revisiting simpler moments of
Moon Pies and Mary James back in the day.
Skate keys and Bobbie socks,
Pigtails and poodle skirts,
Pin curls and Bobbie pins,
Raggedy Ann.
Bosco and Mickey Mouse,
Jukebox and saddle shoes,
Flying with Peter Pan through Neverland.
Baseball cards slapping on bicycle spokes,
Eight tracks and Betamax, bad knock-knock jokes.
Viewmasters, Lincoln logs, erector sets,
Lone Ranger’s sidekick… As good as it gets.
Old wringer washers and rotary phones,
Listening on party lines, waiting your turn.
Lost on the day that the music fell silent.
Peace symbols, love beads and incense to burn.
Dark drive-in movies and black high-top sneakers,
Jiffy pop, rabbit ears, spats and D As.
Pick-up-sticks, Polaroids, tears for Old Yeller,
Time capsule mem’ries tucked safely away.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Splendor bides to celebrate
The magic that is only you, and
Wonder wanders commonplace
When cradled, nestled by your side.
Moonlight pales as constellations
Ride your wave of endless sky, and
Ocean overflows her bounty,
Tranquil in your evening tide.
Not because the world stops spinning.
Not because time takes a pause.
Not that logic dictates that
What once was false is somehow true.
Words can never be a profit
To predict your story’s end.
You fulfill your destiny
… Just because you are you.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Nostalgia
Sweet whipped cream memories, Ghosts from the past
Sleep soft on my shoulder, a whisper away,
Come calling, revisiting simpler moments of
Moon Pies and Mary James back in the day.
Skate keys and Bobbie socks,
Pigtails and poodle skirts,
Pin curls and Bobbie pins,
Raggedy Ann.
Bosco and Mickey Mouse,
Jukebox and saddle shoes,
Flying with Peter Pan through Neverland.
Baseball cards slapping on bicycle spokes,
Eight tracks and Betamax, bad knock-knock jokes.
Viewmasters, Lincoln logs, erector sets,
Lone Ranger’s sidekick… As good as it gets.
Old wringer washers and rotary phones,
Listening on party lines, waiting your turn.
Lost on the day that the music fell silent.
Peace symbols, love beads and incense to burn.
Dark drive-in movies and black high-top sneakers,
Jiffy pop, rabbit ears, spats and D As.
Pick-up-sticks, Polaroids, tears for Old Yeller,
Time capsule mem’ries tucked safely away.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Poetry and Prose Corner May 2014
Enter Singing
Quiet little lotus blossom
Nestling in silent waters,
Would you disallow the world
The wonder of your rainbow smile?
The softened sigh of your sweet voice,
The Heaven fragrance that you breathe,
The pleasure of your company
If only for a little while.
Tapping softly at my door,
Your angel voice a welcome song.
Come share with us the lilting joy
Of all that life is meant to be.
Just one chorus, then one more,
Sweet manna to a grateful throng,
The Merlin magic you employ
To set a wistful spirit free.
Bright lights fill to every corner
Casting shadows wide and long,
And happiness surrounds you when
You enter singing love’s sweet song.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
The Graduate
Handshakes and hugs
And broad smiling tears,
Confident speeches to
Veil silent fears,
And time pauses briefly
Recalling the years
As the graduate
Glides ‘cross the stage.
Backslapping well-wishers
Seem to abound as the
Honorees hover
Five feet off the ground
And nowhere for miles
Can a dry eye be found
As each book
Opens a new page.
Glittering hope casts
Her sparkling beams
And offers her bosoms
To nurture new dreams,
To fill with a prospect
That bursts at the seams
And the clock cannot wither
With age.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Quiet little lotus blossom
Nestling in silent waters,
Would you disallow the world
The wonder of your rainbow smile?
The softened sigh of your sweet voice,
The Heaven fragrance that you breathe,
The pleasure of your company
If only for a little while.
Tapping softly at my door,
Your angel voice a welcome song.
Come share with us the lilting joy
Of all that life is meant to be.
Just one chorus, then one more,
Sweet manna to a grateful throng,
The Merlin magic you employ
To set a wistful spirit free.
Bright lights fill to every corner
Casting shadows wide and long,
And happiness surrounds you when
You enter singing love’s sweet song.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
The Graduate
Handshakes and hugs
And broad smiling tears,
Confident speeches to
Veil silent fears,
And time pauses briefly
Recalling the years
As the graduate
Glides ‘cross the stage.
Backslapping well-wishers
Seem to abound as the
Honorees hover
Five feet off the ground
And nowhere for miles
Can a dry eye be found
As each book
Opens a new page.
Glittering hope casts
Her sparkling beams
And offers her bosoms
To nurture new dreams,
To fill with a prospect
That bursts at the seams
And the clock cannot wither
With age.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Poetry and Prose Corner April 2014
Opening Night
Places! Places!
Dim the lights!
Tempo. Timing.
Make it right.
Attack the stage.
Forget the fright.
Finally it’s
Opening night.
Grueling weeks of
Late night trends,
Burning candles
At both ends.
Do it over
And again
Until we get it all
Just right.
Love the crowd.
Forget the crowd.
Stand up proud
And shout out loud.
Overture,
Curtain, lights.
Bring the house down
Opening night.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Let’s Get Together
Enough is enough
-Is enough –
Is too much.
Patience and common sense
Running amuck.
Lit up in firefight,
Caught in the crush
By her saber –
Cut to the bone.
Sudden explosion
Trembles the ground
Mocking the silence –
World upside down til
Cymbals crescendo
And I look around
To find myself
Lost and alone.
One might imagine
A world without hate
Where patience evolves
And all celebrate
Diversity’s beauty.
It’s not too late.
Let’s get together.
Let’s get it done.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Places! Places!
Dim the lights!
Tempo. Timing.
Make it right.
Attack the stage.
Forget the fright.
Finally it’s
Opening night.
Grueling weeks of
Late night trends,
Burning candles
At both ends.
Do it over
And again
Until we get it all
Just right.
Love the crowd.
Forget the crowd.
Stand up proud
And shout out loud.
Overture,
Curtain, lights.
Bring the house down
Opening night.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Let’s Get Together
Enough is enough
-Is enough –
Is too much.
Patience and common sense
Running amuck.
Lit up in firefight,
Caught in the crush
By her saber –
Cut to the bone.
Sudden explosion
Trembles the ground
Mocking the silence –
World upside down til
Cymbals crescendo
And I look around
To find myself
Lost and alone.
One might imagine
A world without hate
Where patience evolves
And all celebrate
Diversity’s beauty.
It’s not too late.
Let’s get together.
Let’s get it done.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Poetry and Prose Corner March 2014
Winds of Change
Seasons come,
Seasons leave,
Rides the cresting winds of change,
Carries proud her sweet bouquet,
Feasts on a chameleon moon.
She speaks with fervor,
Flaunting favor,
Dives and drives the heart to fever
Til the rushed and flushed
Believe her maddening crush of platitudes.
Banking off her promised boon,
The soft caress of her sweet tune,
The mesmerizing mantra swoons
A ripening of attitudes.
But time keeps marching,
Never still.
Seasons shift and rearrange,
And Mother Earth, her architect,
Breathes life into the winds of change.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tear drops
By Brenda McBride
Let your tear drops flow, one by one as you release your sadness from deep inside.....
Your tear drops will cleanse you from within, from the sorrow and pain that you hide.....
Let each tear dissolve your hurt, like a snowflake that melts
quickly from the warmth of the sun.....
Getting rid of pent up emotion is essential for healing, so don't
hold back, better days have just begun.....
I've cried an ocean full of tears from grief that took a hold of me and didn't want to let go.....
My tear drops flowed frequently as the days and months went by, into the years......
My pain was still harbored inside as the days turned into nights of sorrow beyond belief.....
I cried enough tears of a lifetime, and still cried some more, without stopping, hoping for relief.....
Until, I finally realized, I may cry til the end of time, if that helps release my sorrow of my dad’s passing, which still
haunts me even today.....
Then so be it, I'll let the tears flow some more, until my heart stops hurting, on one fine day.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
American Made
Hong Kong, Taiwan,
India, Japan,
Sri Lanka, Bangladesh,
Paris, Pakistan.
Leaps and bounds the trend resounds,
Increases every day.
Wondering why products don’t say
Made in U S A.
Bedfellows in politics or
Just good business sense.
Doesn’t seem to be a way to
Build a strong defense.
Shouldn’t be this difficult to
Find a place to trade
Where the label proudly indicates
“American made.”
Sure, it’s cheaper,
That’s no sleeper.
Can’t compete with that.
But the secret, hidden deep,
Comes slinking like a cat.
Tucked inside the silent storm
A deeper price is paid.
Shelter dwells inside these words –
American made.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Seasons come,
Seasons leave,
Rides the cresting winds of change,
Carries proud her sweet bouquet,
Feasts on a chameleon moon.
She speaks with fervor,
Flaunting favor,
Dives and drives the heart to fever
Til the rushed and flushed
Believe her maddening crush of platitudes.
Banking off her promised boon,
The soft caress of her sweet tune,
The mesmerizing mantra swoons
A ripening of attitudes.
But time keeps marching,
Never still.
Seasons shift and rearrange,
And Mother Earth, her architect,
Breathes life into the winds of change.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tear drops
By Brenda McBride
Let your tear drops flow, one by one as you release your sadness from deep inside.....
Your tear drops will cleanse you from within, from the sorrow and pain that you hide.....
Let each tear dissolve your hurt, like a snowflake that melts
quickly from the warmth of the sun.....
Getting rid of pent up emotion is essential for healing, so don't
hold back, better days have just begun.....
I've cried an ocean full of tears from grief that took a hold of me and didn't want to let go.....
My tear drops flowed frequently as the days and months went by, into the years......
My pain was still harbored inside as the days turned into nights of sorrow beyond belief.....
I cried enough tears of a lifetime, and still cried some more, without stopping, hoping for relief.....
Until, I finally realized, I may cry til the end of time, if that helps release my sorrow of my dad’s passing, which still
haunts me even today.....
Then so be it, I'll let the tears flow some more, until my heart stops hurting, on one fine day.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
American Made
Hong Kong, Taiwan,
India, Japan,
Sri Lanka, Bangladesh,
Paris, Pakistan.
Leaps and bounds the trend resounds,
Increases every day.
Wondering why products don’t say
Made in U S A.
Bedfellows in politics or
Just good business sense.
Doesn’t seem to be a way to
Build a strong defense.
Shouldn’t be this difficult to
Find a place to trade
Where the label proudly indicates
“American made.”
Sure, it’s cheaper,
That’s no sleeper.
Can’t compete with that.
But the secret, hidden deep,
Comes slinking like a cat.
Tucked inside the silent storm
A deeper price is paid.
Shelter dwells inside these words –
American made.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Poetry and Prose Corner February 2014
Don’t Be Afraid
The winds of chance fly swift beyond the clouds
To carry seeds of challenges ahead,
Til buried deep in furrows plainly plowed
They languish in uncertainty and dread.
And every whisper falling on their ear
Lends warning of the dangers yet to come.
Foreboding foils of feckless, freakish fears
Are birth to caution, leaving reason numb.
As aimless arrows all around ascend,
Like willow branches bending without harm,
Fair truth becomes a melancholy friend
To battle with the liars of alarm
Epiphany – at last fair ransom paid –
Speaks softly in my ear, “Don’t be afraid.”
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Footprints
By Brenda McBride
As we travel down the road of life, we face challenges and triumps that
present themelves along the way......
We encounter so many people in our journey, some of which take hold of our
hearts and show us Blessings with much to say......
These special people bring us wisdom, guidance and fellowship to lead us
in the right direction where everlasting joy and peace lie ahead......
THey provide us with scriptures that can open up our lives to see the truth
in what God had instore, taking away our tears and replacing it with blessings instead......
The gifts they bring to us are undless, with wisdom, truth and the love
that can be shared through a spiritual bond that's fruitful and real.....
Gifts from the heart last forever in their connection, out of praise and glory from God that can never be broken, can bring comfort to heal......
We will know when we've met these beautiful people of God, they stand out
in a crowd like a shining diamond that sparkles in the night......
They leave their footprints with us wherever we go, feeling so loved and
knowing everything's alright!
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
And Well They Served
To stand on unfamiliar soil,
Stranger to the local custom,
Sent in blindness void of reason,
Purposed only to defend,
Cautioned not to question orders,
You are but a puzzle piece.
Higher forces guide decisions.
“You will thank us in the end.”
Settling into your mission,
Studying a hated foe,
Never knowing what may happen
When and if the mortars fly.
Stealthily behind your weapon,
Senses climbing to a peak,
Ready to defend your comrades,
Question not the reason why.
Grateful when the fray is over,
Though you’re weary to the bone.
A needful nation sent you there.
A thankful throng welcomes you home.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
The winds of chance fly swift beyond the clouds
To carry seeds of challenges ahead,
Til buried deep in furrows plainly plowed
They languish in uncertainty and dread.
And every whisper falling on their ear
Lends warning of the dangers yet to come.
Foreboding foils of feckless, freakish fears
Are birth to caution, leaving reason numb.
As aimless arrows all around ascend,
Like willow branches bending without harm,
Fair truth becomes a melancholy friend
To battle with the liars of alarm
Epiphany – at last fair ransom paid –
Speaks softly in my ear, “Don’t be afraid.”
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Footprints
By Brenda McBride
As we travel down the road of life, we face challenges and triumps that
present themelves along the way......
We encounter so many people in our journey, some of which take hold of our
hearts and show us Blessings with much to say......
These special people bring us wisdom, guidance and fellowship to lead us
in the right direction where everlasting joy and peace lie ahead......
THey provide us with scriptures that can open up our lives to see the truth
in what God had instore, taking away our tears and replacing it with blessings instead......
The gifts they bring to us are undless, with wisdom, truth and the love
that can be shared through a spiritual bond that's fruitful and real.....
Gifts from the heart last forever in their connection, out of praise and glory from God that can never be broken, can bring comfort to heal......
We will know when we've met these beautiful people of God, they stand out
in a crowd like a shining diamond that sparkles in the night......
They leave their footprints with us wherever we go, feeling so loved and
knowing everything's alright!
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
And Well They Served
To stand on unfamiliar soil,
Stranger to the local custom,
Sent in blindness void of reason,
Purposed only to defend,
Cautioned not to question orders,
You are but a puzzle piece.
Higher forces guide decisions.
“You will thank us in the end.”
Settling into your mission,
Studying a hated foe,
Never knowing what may happen
When and if the mortars fly.
Stealthily behind your weapon,
Senses climbing to a peak,
Ready to defend your comrades,
Question not the reason why.
Grateful when the fray is over,
Though you’re weary to the bone.
A needful nation sent you there.
A thankful throng welcomes you home.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Poetry and Prose Corner January 2014
Charade
Who is that hiding behind the mask
Of civility?
Claiming to understand
As the flames of misfortune
Come searching, seeking.
You shall not touch my shining
White armour.
My inoculation against your wrath
Yields me immune to your foul breath of fire
Though you aspire to drive me insane.
Speak not of frailty
Nor meekness of purpose.
Waltz proud and loud
Marching out, unafraid,
Brandishing sword and shield,
Searching for dragons,
Tearing down walls
To unmask the charade.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Beyond the Veil
By Brenda McBride
Beyond the veil, a whole new existence awaits you. A dimension that
has endless possibilities with no limitations. You are a part of all
that is good. Within this new dimension, you'll be able to connect to those you've loved and have lost, due to physical death. You'll realize that your family and friends who are in spirit never really left you. All those special people who you thought were gone, are
very much a part of you, and you are a part of them. The deep love
and appreciation you feel for your loved ones is felt by mere thought. Your connection is endless to all of God’s gifts that you
cherished. Animals are greatly appreciated for their unique wisdom and for their devotion to those they love. They are a part of you,
just as you are a part of them. There is no real separation when love
is felt and given from the heart. The beauty inside us will radiate with joy and pure emotion. We realize that God’s blessings never cease to exist. We feel more
alive now than ever before, with no more death or disease to face. Beyond the veil, the music has perfect harmony with each and every tune. We are a part of
this harmonious music, just as it is a part of us. The warmth of the sunshine
that warmed our soul is now a part of us. Just as the coolness of the raindrops
as they fall to refresh our senses. We are more alive now than ever before. Was
life a dream? Since time does not exist, we have endless moments to experience
all that is and all that will be. God’s buffet of blessings surround us as we
marvel in the here and now. Love fills the air with joy and happiness for all
his people. Our spirits soar to the upmost highest level in creation. Our soul
sings out with praise and gratitude. We are finally home! Our true home awaits
us all.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California, with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
Who is that hiding behind the mask
Of civility?
Claiming to understand
As the flames of misfortune
Come searching, seeking.
You shall not touch my shining
White armour.
My inoculation against your wrath
Yields me immune to your foul breath of fire
Though you aspire to drive me insane.
Speak not of frailty
Nor meekness of purpose.
Waltz proud and loud
Marching out, unafraid,
Brandishing sword and shield,
Searching for dragons,
Tearing down walls
To unmask the charade.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Beyond the Veil
By Brenda McBride
Beyond the veil, a whole new existence awaits you. A dimension that
has endless possibilities with no limitations. You are a part of all
that is good. Within this new dimension, you'll be able to connect to those you've loved and have lost, due to physical death. You'll realize that your family and friends who are in spirit never really left you. All those special people who you thought were gone, are
very much a part of you, and you are a part of them. The deep love
and appreciation you feel for your loved ones is felt by mere thought. Your connection is endless to all of God’s gifts that you
cherished. Animals are greatly appreciated for their unique wisdom and for their devotion to those they love. They are a part of you,
just as you are a part of them. There is no real separation when love
is felt and given from the heart. The beauty inside us will radiate with joy and pure emotion. We realize that God’s blessings never cease to exist. We feel more
alive now than ever before, with no more death or disease to face. Beyond the veil, the music has perfect harmony with each and every tune. We are a part of
this harmonious music, just as it is a part of us. The warmth of the sunshine
that warmed our soul is now a part of us. Just as the coolness of the raindrops
as they fall to refresh our senses. We are more alive now than ever before. Was
life a dream? Since time does not exist, we have endless moments to experience
all that is and all that will be. God’s buffet of blessings surround us as we
marvel in the here and now. Love fills the air with joy and happiness for all
his people. Our spirits soar to the upmost highest level in creation. Our soul
sings out with praise and gratitude. We are finally home! Our true home awaits
us all.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California, with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner December 2013
Are We Cold Yet?
It’s there
In the air,
You can sense the hawk sweeping.
Soon,
Very soon
It will wake from its sleeping
To bite and to nip
To claw and to rip
To haunt and to halt
In its bone-chilling grip.
Good sense says to hide,
To keep safely inside
Secure by the fireside
To weather the tide.
But fate bids me go
On my trek through the snow,
And suffer her wrath
As her glacial winds blow.
And the taut winter breeze
Brings the strong to their knees
As autumn surrenders
To deep winter’s freeze.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
The Realization
By Lisa Emery
The fountain of youth is easy to find; be still! It's beyond your mind. Remove all thought, take a breath... lose all judgment and regret. Negate all time; it's not what it seems... this life we're in, IS the dream. It's not something you do, it's more something you are; recognize this truth and there'll be no holds barred. Human and Being… separate yet whole... to learn the difference of each is our earthly goal. It really is simple yet touches so deep, true Realization may bring you to weep. Our physical bodies are human indeed, but to touch the Being Inside us is what we all need. Now "Being" you see is what's deep underneath... beyond all thoughts in this life, our body's our sheath. The soul that we house is eternal and truth. When you tap into this power you'll find timeless youth. There's no limitation when you touch this core, you'll see beauty around you never noticed before. The mysteries of life will then become clear; fear will no longer grip you when adversity is near. The Universe becomes helpful in all that you do, synchronicity appears and blessings shine through. Open your heart, open your soul... the manifestations you seek will be rewarded tenfold. Be 'one with life'; be always Present. Life is happening Now... this very instant. Accept each moment as it is, when this is achieved then true Peace shall live. The freedom that comes in the Present moment, is equal to none... it's the purpose of our existence.
Lisa Emery is a poet and writer trying to make a living with words as well as trying to make a difference. Randomnessfromwithin@wordpress.com
Please Don't Cry
By: Brenda McBride
Written for My Dad, Herbert Grant
Please don't cry; the salt from your tears can fill an ocean with sorrow.
So save your tears, and fill that ocean with cherished memories
that you store in your heart…
Those memories will sustain you, and keep you close to me when the pain becomes too much to bear, as you feel the hollow space
that's torn you apart…
Please don't cry; wipe away your tear drops one by one each day, as you begin to take one step forward to face a new future, one with promise and joy from deep within…
Leaving your sorrow behind you, while still feeling connected to those you've loved and lost, take charge of your emotions, let the healing begin…
Please don't cry; let your tears vanish into drops of hope, with many hopeful wishes that will indeed come true, in the process of your
healing and becoming strong…
The pain may be overwhelming now, but in time you'll see a remarkable change inside of you, miraculous in many ways…
Have patience, it won't take long…
Please don't cry; you must realize I'm still close by your side in spirit. I'll never leave you or wander too far away from where you are…
My world co-exists with yours; we are a part of one another. I'm in the cool breeze that passes you by and I'm in the warmth if the sun…
Accept my passing as part of life: it was my time to pass on. Your time will come too, when the day is done.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California, with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with special education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines in the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
Caw-a-thon
Ten or twelve crows, maybe more, flitting and flighting from one pine tree to the next.
Caw! Caw!
Fussing and fuming, feathers a-flyin'.
A black-feathered family reunion
I believe it was.
Complete with baked beans and fried chicken.
Potato salad. Yes, potatoes, baby!
"I haven't seen you since last winter."
"Is that your green bean casserole?"
"Have you put on some weight, dear?" (Probably too much banana pudding.)
"Aunt Tooley!" (You're still living?)
There was enough cawing and calling and cackling to send a query overseas—or at least a long-distance call—to invite the rest of the crow family to come and fight over which tree to serve the desserts in.
(C) 2013 Yvonne Perry
It’s there
In the air,
You can sense the hawk sweeping.
Soon,
Very soon
It will wake from its sleeping
To bite and to nip
To claw and to rip
To haunt and to halt
In its bone-chilling grip.
Good sense says to hide,
To keep safely inside
Secure by the fireside
To weather the tide.
But fate bids me go
On my trek through the snow,
And suffer her wrath
As her glacial winds blow.
And the taut winter breeze
Brings the strong to their knees
As autumn surrenders
To deep winter’s freeze.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
The Realization
By Lisa Emery
The fountain of youth is easy to find; be still! It's beyond your mind. Remove all thought, take a breath... lose all judgment and regret. Negate all time; it's not what it seems... this life we're in, IS the dream. It's not something you do, it's more something you are; recognize this truth and there'll be no holds barred. Human and Being… separate yet whole... to learn the difference of each is our earthly goal. It really is simple yet touches so deep, true Realization may bring you to weep. Our physical bodies are human indeed, but to touch the Being Inside us is what we all need. Now "Being" you see is what's deep underneath... beyond all thoughts in this life, our body's our sheath. The soul that we house is eternal and truth. When you tap into this power you'll find timeless youth. There's no limitation when you touch this core, you'll see beauty around you never noticed before. The mysteries of life will then become clear; fear will no longer grip you when adversity is near. The Universe becomes helpful in all that you do, synchronicity appears and blessings shine through. Open your heart, open your soul... the manifestations you seek will be rewarded tenfold. Be 'one with life'; be always Present. Life is happening Now... this very instant. Accept each moment as it is, when this is achieved then true Peace shall live. The freedom that comes in the Present moment, is equal to none... it's the purpose of our existence.
Lisa Emery is a poet and writer trying to make a living with words as well as trying to make a difference. Randomnessfromwithin@wordpress.com
Please Don't Cry
By: Brenda McBride
Written for My Dad, Herbert Grant
Please don't cry; the salt from your tears can fill an ocean with sorrow.
So save your tears, and fill that ocean with cherished memories
that you store in your heart…
Those memories will sustain you, and keep you close to me when the pain becomes too much to bear, as you feel the hollow space
that's torn you apart…
Please don't cry; wipe away your tear drops one by one each day, as you begin to take one step forward to face a new future, one with promise and joy from deep within…
Leaving your sorrow behind you, while still feeling connected to those you've loved and lost, take charge of your emotions, let the healing begin…
Please don't cry; let your tears vanish into drops of hope, with many hopeful wishes that will indeed come true, in the process of your
healing and becoming strong…
The pain may be overwhelming now, but in time you'll see a remarkable change inside of you, miraculous in many ways…
Have patience, it won't take long…
Please don't cry; you must realize I'm still close by your side in spirit. I'll never leave you or wander too far away from where you are…
My world co-exists with yours; we are a part of one another. I'm in the cool breeze that passes you by and I'm in the warmth if the sun…
Accept my passing as part of life: it was my time to pass on. Your time will come too, when the day is done.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California, with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with special education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines in the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
Caw-a-thon
Ten or twelve crows, maybe more, flitting and flighting from one pine tree to the next.
Caw! Caw!
Fussing and fuming, feathers a-flyin'.
A black-feathered family reunion
I believe it was.
Complete with baked beans and fried chicken.
Potato salad. Yes, potatoes, baby!
"I haven't seen you since last winter."
"Is that your green bean casserole?"
"Have you put on some weight, dear?" (Probably too much banana pudding.)
"Aunt Tooley!" (You're still living?)
There was enough cawing and calling and cackling to send a query overseas—or at least a long-distance call—to invite the rest of the crow family to come and fight over which tree to serve the desserts in.
(C) 2013 Yvonne Perry
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner November 2013
To Be Truly Thankful
In a world where so much can go wrong,
Will go wrong,
Often does,
It’s key to stop and oft reflect
On blessings dwelling ever near.
The quiet of the evening breeze
That sweeps away the sun-drenched day…
The blissful magic of “three words”
To wash away the hurt and pain…
The joyful laughter of a child,
Life unspoiled,
Song unsung…
Yielding to sweet slumbers’ kiss,
A prayer to a departed sun…
Days creep by before they run
And we must heed the piper’s call.
To be thankful…
To be truly thankful
Is the greatest blessing of them all.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Deep Within
By Brenda McBride
As you travel down that road of loss, don't forget to be kind to yourself along the way….
Only you have the power to heal yourself, so be patient with compassion as you carry on from day to day…
Deep within, you hold the key to acceptance with an open heart to release the pain that you feel…
It takes time to process our emotions, to cope and to heal…
Give yourself permission to cry, and to reflect back on all those cherished moments you once shared that meant so much…
Deep within, you'll always be connected to your loved one, more than you know, remembering their special touch…
No one ever truly leaves us behind, and forgets the bond they shared
with endless love that touched our soul so deep and true…
They are forever near to us, for me and for you.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California, with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with special education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines over the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
All That Is Good
All that is good,
Let it come to me softly.
I will embrace it with arms open wide,
Sharing its essence a thousand fold,
Spreading its gospel to grateful minds.
If it means harm,
Let me face it with honor,
Searching the undertones living below
So I may mute the thundering voices
And quell the torrent that rides stormy seas.
We are but brief
To move through the cosmos,
A wink and a blink in the footnotes of time.
No time to waste on the lost angst of demons.
Focused and fixed and anxious to find
All that is good.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
In a world where so much can go wrong,
Will go wrong,
Often does,
It’s key to stop and oft reflect
On blessings dwelling ever near.
The quiet of the evening breeze
That sweeps away the sun-drenched day…
The blissful magic of “three words”
To wash away the hurt and pain…
The joyful laughter of a child,
Life unspoiled,
Song unsung…
Yielding to sweet slumbers’ kiss,
A prayer to a departed sun…
Days creep by before they run
And we must heed the piper’s call.
To be thankful…
To be truly thankful
Is the greatest blessing of them all.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Deep Within
By Brenda McBride
As you travel down that road of loss, don't forget to be kind to yourself along the way….
Only you have the power to heal yourself, so be patient with compassion as you carry on from day to day…
Deep within, you hold the key to acceptance with an open heart to release the pain that you feel…
It takes time to process our emotions, to cope and to heal…
Give yourself permission to cry, and to reflect back on all those cherished moments you once shared that meant so much…
Deep within, you'll always be connected to your loved one, more than you know, remembering their special touch…
No one ever truly leaves us behind, and forgets the bond they shared
with endless love that touched our soul so deep and true…
They are forever near to us, for me and for you.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California, with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with special education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines over the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
All That Is Good
All that is good,
Let it come to me softly.
I will embrace it with arms open wide,
Sharing its essence a thousand fold,
Spreading its gospel to grateful minds.
If it means harm,
Let me face it with honor,
Searching the undertones living below
So I may mute the thundering voices
And quell the torrent that rides stormy seas.
We are but brief
To move through the cosmos,
A wink and a blink in the footnotes of time.
No time to waste on the lost angst of demons.
Focused and fixed and anxious to find
All that is good.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner October 2013
Falling For Autumn
Daylight recedes and night lingers longer,
A lazy sun lowers her arc in the sky,
And summer relents on her brutal endeavors,
Yields to the softness of crisp autumn dew.
Earth tones of red and gold burst with a frenzy
Flooding the eye with bountiful treat.
The fresh chill of morning makes night covers snuggle
And daybreak awakens a bright orange hue.
Pity to those denied your sweet treasure,
Who never bear witness to your vibrant show,
Charting your change with chameleon candor,
Rushing the senses with visual bliss.
Signals of change as a new dawn announces
The turn of the term,
The passage of time.
I pray that in Heaven there still will be seasons
So all may find favor
In sweet autumn’s kiss.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
I Am
By Brenda McBride
Written for my beloved Dad
I am in the cool breeze that forever blows so softly in the wind that passes by you......
Feeling at peace, where pain is no more, I'm in a timeless paradise full of love
that's so true......
I am in the melody of your favorite songs, gently swaying to the tune to the music
with harmony in my soul......
Feeling free with ease to soar far away into paradise, engulfed in bliss and joy,
dancing like never before, completely whole.....
I am the warmth that radiates from the heat of the sun, sending you comfort and co
passion to dry your tears as they fall, to add a smile to your day......
Feeling happy not sad, helping you get through your grief, trying to let you know I'm fine, more alive than words can say.......
I am in the rain fall, as it falls briskly beneath the sky, refreshing the land with a cool, crisp start, feeling so fresh as the rain falls down.....
Don't cry for me, I'm happy now, we'll meet again, so carry on without a frown.
I am very much alive, please watch for the signs I send to you as you continue your
life here on earth, Ill be close bye......
Think of me each day, and please don't cry.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
All Hallows Eve
Eerily, the shroud descends,
Veiled in mists of Hallows Eve,
As spirits amble in the mist
Reaching from their netherworld
To touch, to feel the naked flesh
Of those who walk and talk and breathe,
To feel the heartbeat of their blood,
A kinship to reality.
Children quake as darkness draws
A demon host from murky lair,
Ghouls and witches primed to scare,
Bats and black cats everywhere.
With mask and costume to disguise
They set out on their ghostly trek.
A trick they sport in lieu of treats
Belays the caution in their eyes.
All is magic,
Nothing planned
On Hallows Eve
When spirits rise.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Daylight recedes and night lingers longer,
A lazy sun lowers her arc in the sky,
And summer relents on her brutal endeavors,
Yields to the softness of crisp autumn dew.
Earth tones of red and gold burst with a frenzy
Flooding the eye with bountiful treat.
The fresh chill of morning makes night covers snuggle
And daybreak awakens a bright orange hue.
Pity to those denied your sweet treasure,
Who never bear witness to your vibrant show,
Charting your change with chameleon candor,
Rushing the senses with visual bliss.
Signals of change as a new dawn announces
The turn of the term,
The passage of time.
I pray that in Heaven there still will be seasons
So all may find favor
In sweet autumn’s kiss.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
I Am
By Brenda McBride
Written for my beloved Dad
I am in the cool breeze that forever blows so softly in the wind that passes by you......
Feeling at peace, where pain is no more, I'm in a timeless paradise full of love
that's so true......
I am in the melody of your favorite songs, gently swaying to the tune to the music
with harmony in my soul......
Feeling free with ease to soar far away into paradise, engulfed in bliss and joy,
dancing like never before, completely whole.....
I am the warmth that radiates from the heat of the sun, sending you comfort and co
passion to dry your tears as they fall, to add a smile to your day......
Feeling happy not sad, helping you get through your grief, trying to let you know I'm fine, more alive than words can say.......
I am in the rain fall, as it falls briskly beneath the sky, refreshing the land with a cool, crisp start, feeling so fresh as the rain falls down.....
Don't cry for me, I'm happy now, we'll meet again, so carry on without a frown.
I am very much alive, please watch for the signs I send to you as you continue your
life here on earth, Ill be close bye......
Think of me each day, and please don't cry.
Brenda McBride lives in Temecula, California with her two teenage girls and is a substitute teacher working with Special Education students. Several of her articles and poems have been published in various magazines throughout the last several years. When her father passed away in 2011, her grief became so unbearable that she began writing to release deep emotions. There's not a day that goes by without the thought and beautiful memories shared with her wonderful dad.
All Hallows Eve
Eerily, the shroud descends,
Veiled in mists of Hallows Eve,
As spirits amble in the mist
Reaching from their netherworld
To touch, to feel the naked flesh
Of those who walk and talk and breathe,
To feel the heartbeat of their blood,
A kinship to reality.
Children quake as darkness draws
A demon host from murky lair,
Ghouls and witches primed to scare,
Bats and black cats everywhere.
With mask and costume to disguise
They set out on their ghostly trek.
A trick they sport in lieu of treats
Belays the caution in their eyes.
All is magic,
Nothing planned
On Hallows Eve
When spirits rise.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner September 2013
For Labors Unheralded
Heaven bless the working man,
Or woman, as the case may be,
For labors that have built a nation,
Made it strong,
Kept it free.
Day by day endures the trek,
Spaghettied byways
Overflowing.
Ceaseless days of repetition,
Watching with frustration growing.
Even while complaints may linger
As the endless hours drone,
Though his ire may peak aplenty,
He will never take it home.
Home to where his world makes sense,
A different kind of recompense,
Where labors wear a sweeter flavor
Sheltered by a picket fence.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Welcome
As we learn to welcome
all aspects of life
Storms and beauties of nature
personal pleasures and strife
We’ll find our human form
can do more than first appears
Our form can resonate and dance
to music of the spheres
Can dream of new creations
that benefit all beings
And broaden cosmic consciousness
beyond the bounds now seen
From the prologue to Leonard Goodwin’s new book, Echoes in the Universe: A Spiritual Memoir available at Amazon.com
Granduer
For as not yet
to know the grandeur
that in this world
this life may come to pass,
I content myself
with this aspiration of hope,
that when herein lies a
life that has passed,
love hath revealed itself
in the image
of you and I.
Richard (James Michael Pontes)
Dear Dad
White knights are hard to come by these days,
So often blemished or misaligned.
But shortsighted memory
Is always forgiving
And the foresight of hindsight so often is blind.
So I never flinched as you donned your armor
And rode out to battle with dragon or beast.
Against famine and foe you defended our castle,
Returning the bounty,
Providing the feast.
Relentless, tenacious, untiring in effort,
Your fortress impenetrable, or so it seems.
But I see your heart, taste your will,
Touch your feelings,
See through your eyes as you strive toward your dreams.
Often profane,
Ready to ire,
Firm when the situations demand,
Yet soft as a feather
And quick as a heartbeat
When favors have need of a helping hand.
When I needed a hero
You took the stand.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner August 2013
For Labors Unheralded
Heaven bless the working man,
Or woman, as the case may be,
For labors that have built a nation,
Made it strong,
Kept it free.
Day by day endures the trek,
Spaghettied byways
Overflowing.
Ceaseless days of repetition,
Watching with frustration growing.
Even while complaints may linger
As the endless hours drone,
Though his ire may peak aplenty,
He will never take it home.
Home to where his world makes sense,
A different kind of recompense,
Where labors wear a sweeter flavor
Sheltered by a picket fence.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Memory Lane
by Femke Weidema and Deborah Wilbrink c. 2012
When he sailed the raging sea, was he scared of what would be
Or hitched his wagon to a star, ‘cause it would take him far
Walking streets paved with gold where the nights were never cold
And people won’t grow old before their time
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Did he find his wife to be, barn-raising in the field
Like grandpa found his bride and never left her side
Though many things were never said, he’d tell the story how they met
With love I won’t forget before my time.
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me.
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Memory Lane…
I will write that down, I will save that story
I will write a book, I will write a perfect memoir
‘Cause I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I will steer away some pain when they drive down my,
When they drive down my Memory Lane
Available on the CD Imperfect Memoir by Deborah Wilbrink or listen at perfectmemoir.com
Then and Now
When I was growing up, I did the stroll.
I had no clue that I would ever "troll",
nor that the future meant someday I'd grapple
with entities like Microsoft and Apple.
Rap's beat could never "shift a paradigm,"
nor did its passion cause an "aha" time.
To "push an envelope" seemed odd to me,
involving planes or plain stupidity.
A solid bank graced every downtown street.
Of course, our cancelled check was our receipt.
Nobody "spoke to" things like "bells and whistles."
"Sunsets" were nouns that didn't mean "dismissals."
Expanding firms were praised for their potential,
but growth was never labelled "exponential."
I don't recall "proactive" workers then.
Nobody "tweeted" like a finch or wren,
or hissed with venom, "Have an awesome day";
and speeches were complete without "segue."
My greatest bliss in being embryonic?
Not hearing, even once, the term "iconic."
Rita Janice Traub
Heaven bless the working man,
Or woman, as the case may be,
For labors that have built a nation,
Made it strong,
Kept it free.
Day by day endures the trek,
Spaghettied byways
Overflowing.
Ceaseless days of repetition,
Watching with frustration growing.
Even while complaints may linger
As the endless hours drone,
Though his ire may peak aplenty,
He will never take it home.
Home to where his world makes sense,
A different kind of recompense,
Where labors wear a sweeter flavor
Sheltered by a picket fence.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Memory Lane
by Femke Weidema and Deborah Wilbrink c. 2012When he sailed the raging sea, was he scared of what would be
Or hitched his wagon to a star, ‘cause it would take him far
Walking streets paved with gold where the nights were never cold
And people won’t grow old before their time
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Did he find his wife to be, barn-raising in the field
Like grandpa found his bride and never left her side
Though many things were never said, he’d tell the story how they met
With love I won’t forget before my time.
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me.
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Memory Lane…
I will write that down, I will save that story
I will write a book, I will write a perfect memoir
‘Cause I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I will steer away some pain when they drive down my,
When they drive down my Memory Lane
Available on the CD Imperfect Memoir by Deborah Wilbrink or listen at perfectmemoir.com
Then and Now
When I was growing up, I did the stroll.
I had no clue that I would ever "troll",
nor that the future meant someday I'd grapple
with entities like Microsoft and Apple.
Rap's beat could never "shift a paradigm,"
nor did its passion cause an "aha" time.
To "push an envelope" seemed odd to me,
involving planes or plain stupidity.
A solid bank graced every downtown street.
Of course, our cancelled check was our receipt.
Nobody "spoke to" things like "bells and whistles."
"Sunsets" were nouns that didn't mean "dismissals."
Expanding firms were praised for their potential,
but growth was never labelled "exponential."
I don't recall "proactive" workers then.
Nobody "tweeted" like a finch or wren,
or hissed with venom, "Have an awesome day";
and speeches were complete without "segue."
My greatest bliss in being embryonic?
Not hearing, even once, the term "iconic."
Rita Janice Traub
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner July 2013
Survival
Please, Lord, leave this house untroubled,
We who serve you humbly plead.
Knowing well your faithful promise
We shall follow where you lead.
Heralds rise to sound the trumpet,
Blast a warning all must heed.
Close the door and
Light the candle.
Hearts in faith need never bleed.
Safe within this sanctuary,
You are surely all we need.
Nothing to bring shame upon us,
No concessions to concede.
Faith denies all pessimism.
Hope springs forward from her seed.
Onward with determination,
One day soon we shall be freed.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Expansion
Infinite being of love and light
Expand your essence
Your truth and grandeur
Past the limits of time and space
Past the commandments
carved on tablets of stone
You make your own rules now
Infinite being of love and light
Expand your essence to the size of this room
Expand your grace to the size of this city
Expand your I AM Presence
to the far reaches of the multiverse
Beloved infinite being,
Expand your essence
Trace your desires back to yourself
where you are already loved
You are already God
© 2013 Yvonne Perry
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner June 2013
From the forthcoming book, Echoes in the Universe, A Spiritual Memoir, by Leonard Goodwin:
Summer Enlightenment
By Leonard Goodwin
Behind our house
in the sunlightened field
of yellow green grass, two feet high
with a path worn through
I walk to the rise of the hill
where blue sky begins
and the giant oak
reaches for a cloud
I stand in silence
feeling warmth
of the solar furnace soaking through
my outer layers of self
Feet sinking deeply into earth
taking root
Body stretching upward
arms growing out
I am the tree
looking out beyond the field
to urban streets
where busy human forms
rarely raise their eyes
to scan the heights
to which they might ascend
My head touches the cloud
a billow of white
floating in the blue
I am the cloud
the tree, the grass
the earth, the sky
the unfolding human drama
The I and We
in total harmony
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner May 2013
A Man of Peaceful Means
Why are those of peaceful means
So often hated and reviled?
To teach and preach for kindness sake
Is hardly breaking any rules.
And yet the cruel and hardened fact,
The one that cannot be denied,
When pulpits reach to speak of love
They’re levied with the brand of fools.
And hate becomes the child of fear,
Without a tear, his conscience bare,
And lashes out with loss of reason
As the legions seize his fuel.
And though the masses sue for peace,
Long for love and fellowship,
Their light cannot outrun the darkness
Cast upon the pristine pool.
Heroes rise and legends fall.
Still the banner carries forth.
For always men of peaceful means
Prepare for battle and renewal.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Through the Tunnel
© 2013 Yvonne Perry
It's dark in here,
this womb where I am comfortable
with all my stuff;
familiar, predictable, and yet I know
there is more to experience
A new life is awaiting
as soon as I break free
from this cocoon that not only shelters me
but also tightly traps me and keeps me from growing
What's happening?
My world is shaking
Who disturbs my peace and complacency?
Quaking, squeezing
pushing, bearing down hard
I don't like this!
Stop!
Mother, what are you doing to me?
My home has turned into a prison
The waters break around me
I cling to the cord that sustains my life here—
a well-known life that is ending
The tunnel is so tight
It hurts! Doesn't anyone care?
I can't move, the space is too small
My head is filled with pressuring thoughts
I can't see where I'm going
or where I'll end up
What awaits me on the other side of this pain?
Will it ever stop?
There seems to be a brightness
at the end of this tunnel
Is it the place of light from whence I came,
or one I've never known?
I'm sliding and moving now but
I feel afraid of what lies ahead
I need help, someone to pull me out
Push me forward but be sure to catch me
when I arrive
Whoosh! I'm free!
It's cold here
It feels strange, foreign
There are smiling faces
They seem glad to be here
Are they glad I'm here?
I cry out for the comfort I once had
Hold me!
Steady my wild heartbeat with your calm rhythm
Mother takes my weary body into her arms
and cuddles me to her ample breast
flowing with the sustenance needed to keep me alive
here in these new surroundings
I can't go back to that confining place
where I was before
I must move forward and accept
new ways of being, sensing, and allowing
This new and wonderful world
into which I have come as a fragile infant
will teach me how strong and wise I already am.
Why are those of peaceful means
So often hated and reviled?
To teach and preach for kindness sake
Is hardly breaking any rules.
And yet the cruel and hardened fact,
The one that cannot be denied,
When pulpits reach to speak of love
They’re levied with the brand of fools.
And hate becomes the child of fear,
Without a tear, his conscience bare,
And lashes out with loss of reason
As the legions seize his fuel.
And though the masses sue for peace,
Long for love and fellowship,
Their light cannot outrun the darkness
Cast upon the pristine pool.
Heroes rise and legends fall.
Still the banner carries forth.
For always men of peaceful means
Prepare for battle and renewal.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Through the Tunnel
© 2013 Yvonne Perry
It's dark in here,
this womb where I am comfortable
with all my stuff;
familiar, predictable, and yet I know
there is more to experience
A new life is awaiting
as soon as I break free
from this cocoon that not only shelters me
but also tightly traps me and keeps me from growing
What's happening?
My world is shaking
Who disturbs my peace and complacency?
Quaking, squeezing
pushing, bearing down hard
I don't like this!
Stop!
Mother, what are you doing to me?
My home has turned into a prison
The waters break around me
I cling to the cord that sustains my life here—
a well-known life that is ending
The tunnel is so tight
It hurts! Doesn't anyone care?
I can't move, the space is too small
My head is filled with pressuring thoughts
I can't see where I'm going
or where I'll end up
What awaits me on the other side of this pain?
Will it ever stop?
There seems to be a brightness
at the end of this tunnel
Is it the place of light from whence I came,
or one I've never known?
I'm sliding and moving now but
I feel afraid of what lies ahead
I need help, someone to pull me out
Push me forward but be sure to catch me
when I arrive
Whoosh! I'm free!
It's cold here
It feels strange, foreign
There are smiling faces
They seem glad to be here
Are they glad I'm here?
I cry out for the comfort I once had
Hold me!
Steady my wild heartbeat with your calm rhythm
Mother takes my weary body into her arms
and cuddles me to her ample breast
flowing with the sustenance needed to keep me alive
here in these new surroundings
I can't go back to that confining place
where I was before
I must move forward and accept
new ways of being, sensing, and allowing
This new and wonderful world
into which I have come as a fragile infant
will teach me how strong and wise I already am.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner April 2013
The Fools of April
Oh, you jokester,
Prankster, Fool,
Fearless in
Your pratfall follies.
Do you dare to
Break the rules with
Any tools at your command?
Obvious that you enjoy
The many tactics you employ
With faceless, feckless fortitude,
The masquerade of your decoy.
Never mind the price you pay
Or who your folly may annoy.
As long as you indulge your joy
And swiftly make your getaway.
Expert to economy,
Vanquisher of gloom and doom,
Forlorn frowns are vanquished
When the fools of April fill the room.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
April
By Rita Janice Traub
I am April, green and fair,
lilacs tangled in my hair,
oft-disheveled, awkward, wild,
partly grown but mostly child,
hope and comfort in my smile,
winter-haunted all the while.
Though my daffodils glint gold,
I was born of mists and cold,
struggling, when my wan sun sets,
not to destroy my violets,
now, as in primeval years,
trilling songs while spilling tears,
melodies I knew before
humans walked life’s corridor.
Charming May and fragrant June,
rose-adorned, will visit soon.
Meanwhile, take my bud and leaf,
gently dabbed with ancient grief.
Springtime
Finally, respite from
Bone chills and teeth rattles,
Mittens and snow battles,
Shovels and scrapes.
No longer bundled in
Parka and woollen cap,
Breaking the frigid snap.
Blessed escape.
Nature erupts
In its vibrant illusion,
Precious profusion
Of color and scale.
Crocus and john-o-quill,
Tulips and daffodil,
Lilacs upon the hill,
Senses assailed.
Morning awakens as
Sweet dewdrops glisten
And new lovers listen
For robins to sing.
Time holds no meaning
And space knows no reason
For earth wears no season
More lovely than spring.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Welcome
By Leonard Goodwin
As we learn to welcome
all aspects of life
Storms and beauties of Nature
personal pleasures and strife
We'll find our human form
can do more than first appears
Our form can resonate and dance
to music of the spheres
Can dream of new creations
that benefit all beings
Expanding cosmic consciousness
beyond the bounds now seen
from the “Prologue” of A Spiritual Journey: From the Great Depression to Beyond the Mayan Calendar. Author Leonard Goodwin has led an interesting life, full of significant work and spiritual revelations, which he shares in his soon-to-be-published poetic memoir.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner March 2013
Kite Flyer
Oh, you fearless high flyer,
Tree crasher,
Nose diver,
Loop the looper.
Where is your home,
You homemade wonder?
Who is the hero holding your fate?
Yesterday’s newspapers, twigs and twine
Loosely bound with flour paste.
Rag bag tail of red and paisley
Waiting for the wind to
Do its splendid magic
Lifting you so you can dance
Among the clouds,
Making gawkers strain their necks
With careless wonder at your ease.
And I, your pilot,
Groundsman, soul mate,
I am the master of your sky.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Oh, you fearless high flyer,
Tree crasher,
Nose diver,
Loop the looper.
Where is your home,
You homemade wonder?
Who is the hero holding your fate?
Yesterday’s newspapers, twigs and twine
Loosely bound with flour paste.
Rag bag tail of red and paisley
Waiting for the wind to
Do its splendid magic
Lifting you so you can dance
Among the clouds,
Making gawkers strain their necks
With careless wonder at your ease.
And I, your pilot,
Groundsman, soul mate,
I am the master of your sky.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner February 2013
February Song
Yes, dear friend, her cold runs deep,
Her frozen earth of steely stone.
Even in the sun’s brief glow
Its sharp fangs penetrate the bone.
Bitter wind sweeps every corner
Of her tiny village square,
Sweeping from vast northern tundra
Spreads its pinpricks everywhere.
Bundled well in scarf and parka
Venture out into her fray,
Blinded white with falling snowflakes
Stop to watch her children play.
Snuggled now beside the fireplace,
Scalding cocoa warms inside.
Let the chill enjoy her conquest.
We have nothing left to hide.
And we huddle at her leisure
Watching as the days grow long,
Bound to leap with hope and joy
As February sings her song.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Memory Lane a song by Femke Weidema and Deborah Wilbrink © 2013
When he sailed the raging sea, was he scared of what would be
Or hitched his wagon to a star, ‘cause it would take him far
Walking streets paved with gold where the nights were never cold
And people won’t grow old before their time
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Did he find his wife to be, barn-raising in the field
Like grandpa found his bride and never left her side
Though many things were never said, he’d tell the story how they met
With love I won’t forget before my time.
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me.
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Memory Lane…
I will write that down, I will save that story
I will write a book, I will write a perfect memoir
‘Cause I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I will steer away some pain when they drive down my,
When they drive down my Memory Lane
Valentine's Day
February is mostly cold, damp and gray
But warming it up is Valentine's Day.
Being in love or wanting one that's true
Is a dream everyone can share - even you.
Valentine's Day is almost here
Reveal your heart without any fear.
With words of true love this time
Write someone a song, letter or rhyme.
~Denise DeMaras
Yes, dear friend, her cold runs deep,
Her frozen earth of steely stone.
Even in the sun’s brief glow
Its sharp fangs penetrate the bone.
Bitter wind sweeps every corner
Of her tiny village square,
Sweeping from vast northern tundra
Spreads its pinpricks everywhere.
Bundled well in scarf and parka
Venture out into her fray,
Blinded white with falling snowflakes
Stop to watch her children play.
Snuggled now beside the fireplace,
Scalding cocoa warms inside.
Let the chill enjoy her conquest.
We have nothing left to hide.
And we huddle at her leisure
Watching as the days grow long,
Bound to leap with hope and joy
As February sings her song.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Memory Lane a song by Femke Weidema and Deborah Wilbrink © 2013
When he sailed the raging sea, was he scared of what would be
Or hitched his wagon to a star, ‘cause it would take him far
Walking streets paved with gold where the nights were never cold
And people won’t grow old before their time
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Did he find his wife to be, barn-raising in the field
Like grandpa found his bride and never left her side
Though many things were never said, he’d tell the story how they met
With love I won’t forget before my time.
When I climb the Family Tree, I know so much more about me.
I should write that down, I should save that story
I should write a book so the kids remember me
I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I could steer away some pain with a drive down Memory Lane.
Memory Lane…
I will write that down, I will save that story
I will write a book, I will write a perfect memoir
‘Cause I’ve got things to say, I know they are still learning
I will steer away some pain when they drive down my,
When they drive down my Memory Lane
Valentine's Day
 |
| Painting By Denise Demaras |
February is mostly cold, damp and gray
But warming it up is Valentine's Day.
Being in love or wanting one that's true
Is a dream everyone can share - even you.
Valentine's Day is almost here
Reveal your heart without any fear.
With words of true love this time
Write someone a song, letter or rhyme.
~Denise DeMaras
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Poetry and Prose Corner January 2013
Resolutions
by Denise Demaras
If you want to write a book this year
Just start it now and you'll be half way there.
We can help you when you get stuck
Our tools can dig you out of the muck.
Begin each day writing from the start
So you'll deliver a message from your heart.
Denise Demaras, an L.A.-based Artist, Author, Publisher and Holistic Health Coach. Her new book, Heal From Your Heart With Breath, Rhyme and Art, instructs people how to rid their lives of physical and spiritual pain through a variety of meditation and healing techniques.
The Firefly and the Butterfly
© Yvonne Perry 2012
A firefly swooped near me
I caught her in my hands
and cupped her tightly so she could not flee
I would peer in upon my captive
just to watch her light up
I clinched my hands tighter
Snuffing out the air she needed
And closing the space around her
so she could not see the beauty of others
Her wings could not unfurl
Her spirit could not soar
Bound by my possessive grip
She had no choice or liberty
Her light faded
She became silent and still
A butterfly landed upon my open palm
His wing was slightly torn
I admired his gentle grace and beauty
but I dared not close my hand
for fear that I would crush his tender heart
and harm him in some way
Intently, I cast my eyes and restoring love upon him
and watched breathlessly to see if he would respond
Sometimes I would close my eyes and feel
the tickle of his wings, the pulse of his heart
or the movement of his tiny feet upon my skin
Soaking in the intense color and vibration
of all the life, freedom, and vitality he offers
I cannot hold him prisoner
while he heals and basks in the warmth of my hand
I realize the choice is not mine
Will he stay or fly away?
Unknown
By Shirley Roe
Standing on the edge
Before me, death
And all of the unknown
Will I go to a higher plane
A beautiful Heaven
Or will there be only blackness
And silence
Will I know what is happening
Or will I simply be?
The precipice of life
How did I reach this point?
Was it a good journey or
Did I simply exist?
Did I live every moment to the fullest
Or simply move from day to day?
These are questions that must be asked
Now, before you stand on the edge of forever.
A life is not judged by the length of living,
But by the quality living of every moment,
The wonderful, the painful,
The happy and the sad
But lived completely and appreciated fully.
Stop now and ask yourself these questions
Before you face the total and absolute unknown.
Based in Canada, Shirley A. Roe is an award winning poet and historical fiction writer. She has published eight novels, and is working on number nine.
Clouds
I love to watch the clouds roll by.
They paint a picture in my mind.
The ever changing images unfold,
Untangle and unwind
Into a vast collage of treasures
Meant for just my eyes.
Reflections of familiar feelings
Scattered 'cross the skies.
Taking in their tattered edges...
Tucking in their ends...
Forming shapes for fleeting moments...
Driven by the winds.
Roving, rolling, climbing, falling
Singly or in crowds,
Images abound aplenty
Riding on the clouds.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Poetry and Prose Corner December 2012
The First Step
by Denise Demaras
I read a Greek Proverb today
It said the beginning is half of the way.
I know for myself this is true,
And how scary that first step is to do.
Feel the fear and do it any way
You'll find it's easier each and every day.
Reach for the stars to let your dream fly
Take that first step and touch the sky.
Denise Demaras, an L.A.-based Artist, Author, Publisher and Holistic Health Coach.
Her new new book, Heal From Your Heart With Breath, Rhyme and Art instructs people how to rid their lives of physical and spiritual pain through a variety of meditation and healing techniques.
…And It’s Christmas
It’s reindeer on rooftops,
It’s cocoa and cream,
It’s dewdrops and gumdrops
And sugarplum dreams,
It’s carolers caroling
Sounds of the season.
Do-gooders doing good
For no good reason.
…And it’s Christmas
It’s Santa and elves
Waiting perched at the mall
With Eddie and Adeline
Watching in awe,
It’s crimson and candy canes,
Emeralds and diamond rings,
Lollypops, presents and
All kind of wondrous things.
…And it’s Christmas.
It’s angels with halos and
Good will toward men,
A grand celebration of
Family and friend,
It’s eggnog and candlelight,
Star-topped trees twinkling bright,
Praises to Heaven that echo the night.
…And it’s Christmas.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
No Boundaries
By Bill Sawyers
There are no boundaries of life in this age;
Just open your mind of empty space.
Learn the knowledge of wisdom through school and books;
As you just can’t depend on your looks.
Use your best judgment to follow through.
The future is upon us,
It’s all up to you.
If you reach a dead end,
Then start over again.
A day is a day; a year is a year;
Time is one thing you shouldn’t fear.
You will succeed one of these days
What ever goal you’re trying to reach
I’ll wish you luck, as this is the way;
Just try to make the best of your day.
Bill Sawyers is an author and poet that has been writing for many years. He has written three children’s books and the book proceeds benefit three schools in the Concord, California area. http://freewebs.com/william2233
by Denise Demaras
I read a Greek Proverb today
It said the beginning is half of the way.
I know for myself this is true,
And how scary that first step is to do.
Feel the fear and do it any way
You'll find it's easier each and every day.
Reach for the stars to let your dream fly
Take that first step and touch the sky.
Denise Demaras, an L.A.-based Artist, Author, Publisher and Holistic Health Coach.
Her new new book, Heal From Your Heart With Breath, Rhyme and Art instructs people how to rid their lives of physical and spiritual pain through a variety of meditation and healing techniques.
…And It’s Christmas
It’s reindeer on rooftops,
It’s cocoa and cream,
It’s dewdrops and gumdrops
And sugarplum dreams,
It’s carolers caroling
Sounds of the season.
Do-gooders doing good
For no good reason.
…And it’s Christmas
It’s Santa and elves
Waiting perched at the mall
With Eddie and Adeline
Watching in awe,
It’s crimson and candy canes,
Emeralds and diamond rings,
Lollypops, presents and
All kind of wondrous things.
…And it’s Christmas.
It’s angels with halos and
Good will toward men,
A grand celebration of
Family and friend,
It’s eggnog and candlelight,
Star-topped trees twinkling bright,
Praises to Heaven that echo the night.
…And it’s Christmas.
Dennis S. Martin
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
No Boundaries
By Bill Sawyers
There are no boundaries of life in this age;
Just open your mind of empty space.
Learn the knowledge of wisdom through school and books;
As you just can’t depend on your looks.
Use your best judgment to follow through.
The future is upon us,
It’s all up to you.
If you reach a dead end,
Then start over again.
A day is a day; a year is a year;
Time is one thing you shouldn’t fear.
You will succeed one of these days
What ever goal you’re trying to reach
I’ll wish you luck, as this is the way;
Just try to make the best of your day.
Bill Sawyers is an author and poet that has been writing for many years. He has written three children’s books and the book proceeds benefit three schools in the Concord, California area. http://freewebs.com/william2233
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