just
holding hands
nothing really
to say
watching
the fireworks
off in the distance
reflecting off
a marble marker
of a son
who would have
celebrated
a birthday too
this day
hands
till death do we part…
digital collage cwmartin 2011
she lie
on the earth
clawing at it
with a slow
and steady pace
digging with her nails
pausing just briefly
as i walked up
her clothes
were new
freshly pressed
her handbag
most stylish
for her age
the veins
in her hands
pulsed with passion
and beads of sweat
like tears flowed
from her face
she said nothing to me
i held my breath
for a moment
and asked
what is your name
she once again paused
sighed
and said
mary
mary b franklin
and then
she resumed
her digging
i turned to go
but
looking down
beside her
i saw a stone
james
w
franklin
with apologies to carly simon…
pie in de face
pie in de face
i hope de man don’t come out
and toss de pie in de face
mister murdock he was talkin’
and we’re feelin’ a little spaced
just in that moment me see man
jumping with de cream pie
well de man come down with it
waiting dere in parliament
when he hear ’bout dose many stories
de man toss the pie in de face
visions of holding hands….
she smiled at him
his old fantasies took flight
so did his wallet
nine to five…
copyright cwmartin 2011
these things
that fill your day
are but
shadows
on the wall
you cannot
touch them
or
hold them close
nor
will they fill
your hand with joy
for they
are
but
shadows
on the wall
hawk chronicles #5…
copyright cwmartin 2011
i watch men
knees bent
hands clasped
staring
into my domain
searching
for wisdom
hoping
for new manna
but never
unfolding
their hands
to till the earth
or
plant the seeds
and
seeing
no further
than
their own
outstretched
hands
in that moment…
copyright cwmartin 2011
the fragrance
of a memory
lingers
sudden spring showers
a country road
tall grass
bowing
to a gentle breeze
blue eyes blurred
with tears
a story told
a hand extended
then embraced
the sharing of all
and
the holding tight
to what
will never be
mnenmosyne…
each night
she would
return to his room
like the breeze
through his window
crawl in beside him
his heart would pound
within his chest
as her lips
moved to his
his fingers floating
on her silken skin
breathing in
the fragrance
of an angel
and
as dawn approached
she would leave
then
the nurse
would come in
wondering
why mr. peterson
always
smiled
the shell game…
a simple game
of chance
three shells
legislative
judicial
executive
we’ll place them
right here
on flat political surface
now keep your eyes
on that little thing
called democracy
as the hands of greed
and self-interest
move the shells
from left to right
and right to left
depending upon
the shell man’s whim
just a little political shuffling
here and there
to make the game seem fair
now
let see
how confident
you
really are
about where
your freedom lies
are you willing
to bet
your
life
the attorney…
his call button
went unattended
while
the night nurse
completed
mandatory forms
that
were developed
in response
to his last
law suit
his
death
was listed
due
to
natural
causes
Read Between the Minds 