the forgotten…

the forgotten

sitting unheard
in
the shadows
of
life
are
the old dreamers
dreamers
who had
such
wonderful plans
as they
set out
on
life’s journey
only
to end up
barely visible
in
the shadows
of
existence
with
their dreams
scattered
like
litter
around
their useless feet
useless
since
they have no time
left
to travel
the promise
of
death
anchors them
to
retirement home hallways
or
their
artificially
cheerful cells
decorated
with
life fragments
a time
when
they weren’t
in
this purgatory
this
transitional place
that
offers
drive-by-visitors
family members
who’ve
forgotten
that
beinghood
is more than
safety
it’s a warm embrace
and
seeing daily
the faces
of
those you love
but
convenience
becomes
the watch word
and so
souls become
forgotten

a tea social at the elks…

a social tea at the elks

listen child
i ain’t gonna lie
to you
that
man
could drive
anyone
to
drink
and
sometimes
he says things
that
could curdle milk
but
you ain’t
gonna find
a finer man
working hard
for
his family
working
two
or
three jobs
just
to assure
nobody goes hungry
or
can’t have enough
of
their
wants
to
convince them
dreams
can come
true
so
if you start
putting him down
you may find
yourself
on
the ground

bless me for i have sinned….

forgive me for i have sinned

yesterday
i committed
a cardinal sin
no
not one
of
the biblical ones
but
i
went tromping through
aunt bea’s
backdoor
without noticing
she’d just mopped
now
for most
of you
that’s no big deal
but
if you’ve
spent a number
of years
cleaning house
for
other folks
it’s
a big deal
her
raised eyebrow
and
crooked smile
was my
first warning
followed
by this verbal shot
across my bow
aunt bea
said
i do love
when you come
to visit
it shows
you care
however
caring
and
respecting
are on the same side
of life’s coin
respecting
the little things
speaks volumes
it says
you appreciate
not only
past contributions
but also
what
one is attempting
to do today
to maintain
a sense of dignity
it could be
that they
continue to put on makeup
wear pantyhose
or
just
mop their floor
whatever
it is
make sure
you look
carefully
before
entering
another’s home
physically
or
verbally

an abandoned building…

copyright cwmartin 2011

the old man
sat quietly
in the corner
of the room
listening to
young interns
discuss him
his structural integrity
and
points of interest
like tourists
walking through
a busy market place
assuming the locals
don’t understand english
his divine design
reduced to ipad notes
quick snapshots
of a sacred edifice
thought to be deserted
without power or light
but inside
great books
are read aloud
and memories
dance to familiar tunes
which on occasion
slip out the entry way
perceived as senility
not music
or
a lullaby
once sung
to his first child