resurrection deferred…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2012

arctic winds
blow snow
sideways
across
nebraska roads
like fine desert sand
blinding all
to her body
naked
on a mound
stained with blood
another sacrificial lamb
her mouth
now frozen
into a plea
for help
but none
came
nothing
remains here
but signs
of her fear
fingers
buried deep
into the snow
icicle tears
in each eye
eyes
that prayed
to god
a god
she had known
and loved
but
must have had
another appointment
she
would have
understood
such
was the depth
of her love
but
not
mine

 

channelling a beat poet…

copyright cwmartin 2012

can you feel
my molten breath
upon your neck
i am
tired
of the legal
lynch mobs
wandering
the streets
of the world
still
quoting kramer’s text
burning witches
at the stake
with the same
delight
that he did
i am
not
going
to join
into your song
of hope
this has been
going on
for far too long
and
I can’t see
an end in sight
these legal murders
ain’t nothing but
mental slavery
so don’t look
for me
on no damn
picket line
waiting for
societal snipers
to record my death
don’t hold your breath
waiting for freedom
cause it ain’t nothing
but a pipe dream
which is purchased
on wall street
by those
who’ve got
the money
and
the time
to smoke it

stand your ground…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2012

 

the grave
is sealed
even before
it has been
carved into stone
martyred
at birth
by race
or
gender
no
prophet
is needed
to foretell
the future
it is
what was
is
and
will be
only
fools
barter on the street
for whiffs of freedom
like
the scent
of food
to the starving
no
money
no
food
wrong
color
or
gender
no
freedom
wearing the wrong
clothes
can
lead to rape
or
death
thanks mr rivera
for blaming
the victim
maybe
you should
go find a safe
to open
freedom
cannot be bought
you can
sample it
but
it will
not
be yours
for
you
are an outcast
of history
undefined pages
first
to be burnt
when laws
get
passed
to
protect
freedom

have you heard…

another man’s
done gone
his soul
won’t linger long
in your song
it ‘s done gone
to heaven
waiting for justice
to spread its wings
across this land
that took his life
in the night
like all thieves
death came
and left
without a word
of regret
just the foul odor
of a barbaric law
but
now
the continuing story
of
made
in america

thoughts before slumber…

a child
no longer
wants to go home
too much death
listen
the need
is still there
do not close
your eyes
a village
without a sound
burnt to the ground
but listen
a woman screams
the need
is still there
do not close
your eyes
a homeless man
bludgeoned
for sport
like a video game
listen
the need
is still there
do not close
your eyes
a young child
sold and bred
for the pleasure
of others
do not run
from these sounds
but listen
the need
is still there
do not close
your eyes
you lock
the metal doors
to your soul
and chain
your fears
at night
so you may
rest in peace
but i tell you
the poor and destitute
are outside
listen
the need
is still here
do not close
your eyes

o canada…

scores of bodies
have washed up
upon your shores
of prejudice
the tide pools
of injustice
have filled
with native blood
o canada
those were not
the songs
of the sirens
you heard
but the wailing voices
of native women
exiled into the earth
o canada
their eyes pierce
the sky’s darkness
razor sharp stars
staring into the heartland
seeking murderers
who merrily meander
guarded by laws of indifference
o canada
can you not feel
death’s cold breath
in the wintry winds
and smell the stench
of decaying flesh
of your lost daughters
o canada

path of wrath…

by River Urke and charles wm. martin

the molten steel
of this anger
flowed onto the plains
of his reason
scorching the fertile
ground of his thoughts
he falls to his knees
pain of the deepest slash
bleeds through tears
flooding him with despair
as his knees sink deep
into mother earth
he calls out for mercy
only to hear laughter
a sinister laugh of no other
then his wretched foe
the murderer of his love
sword in hand he took stance
facing empty air
the laughter reverberating
through the valley
cutting deeper into his moral soul
than any weapon could every do
he puts down his sword knowing
a battle will be his death
avenging his love is another way
he calls to his foe
you’ve murdered only one
of my two beloveds
i still have your wife’s love
and she waits for me now
a flash of light explodes
knocking him down
tearing a hole in the earth
fuming with fury stands his foe
hands of attack they both roll
falling down to their deaths. 

 

River Urke and I have entered into a duel poetry challenge and this is the resulting poem.  Duel Poetry:  a prearranged poetry writing challenge  between two people to evolve a new poem where each writer must respond to the other writer’s lines  (4 -5 ) until both parties agree that the poem is complete

die laughing…

Point-Counter Point Challenge:  For those of you have been following the challenges between Jade and I, you are aware that several challenges have taken place over the course of the last few months.  This time, the challenge was to be initiated by me and I decided to change the rules a little…well a lot.  Here’s how it works this time.  Each poet provides the other poet with  five quotations that must be addressed from the opposite point of view as the original quote.  So here we go…here is the first quote that Jade provided to me:  “If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you.” Oscar Wilde

die laughing…

the thin veneer
of laughter
disguised the crowds intent
for before this day
would be done
the poison of hatred
would pierce their skins
and flow like
quicksilver
into their veins
and they would
be transformed
into a mob
a serpent without a head
no logic nor reason
nor sense of right or wrong
just the urge to kill
to rise up against
the humor of reality
and grasp the throat
of truth
until its breath
is no more
and the deed
of murder
would be done
and truth
would have died
laughing