isis…

she’s wearing
her black halo tonight
dancing unrestrained
hips undulating
to the waves of music
a raven in flight
floating across the night sky
with spotlights of desire
following her every move
wanton eyes
praying without words
to a dark winged angel
wrapped in a silken gown
like hands
tracing each curve
and line of her form
her eyes laughing
knowing that she
and she alone
controls the fate
of this night
and the fate
of one lover
forever

once there were cowboys…

copyright cwmartin 2011

those lights
once lit up
the night sky
for miles
a small corral
became an arena
where western gladiators
marshaled the strength
to bring down
bulls to the ground
while wide-eyed children
memorized each move
to practice on family pets
no need to ask for
some foreign beer
it was budweiser
or nothing at all
except for
the occasional
miller lite
smuggled in
by some tourist
and
those fancy
filtered cigarettes
not only raised eyebrows
but smiles
but land developers
and county officials
eager for progress
as measured by profit
have turned off the lights
only the lingering scent
of wet leather
can be found
this place now holds
only the ghost
of christmas past