great bird
holding up
the sky
smile upon
the dead
lift their spirits
with you
into the sky
so that god
might grasp
their hand
and pull them
from this misery
called earth
blend them
with the stars
so they might
light the way
for those
left behind
copyright cwmartin 2011
a small jar
of stars
sitting idly
on a shelf
once envied
by all
but now
homeless
never again
to adorn
the pages
of future
einsteins
or
little shakespeares
feeling
useless
and
alone
tho crammed
together like
in a city slum
peering out
the glass
upon the world
that cannot recall
the services
once
provided
and
the blood shed
for that
overpriced
latte
copyright cwmartin 2011
sometimes
i like to just
show-off
do a spin
or two
against
the dark blue sky
for no particular reason
i find
most humans
spend so much time
wondering about life’s meaning
and their place in it
pondering
deep philosophical points
their eyes focused on books
missing the landmarks
and scenery
along the way
counting down
to doomsday
not knowing
if heaven is to the left
or right
so
i’ve taken it upon myself
to have
a little sky party
in their behalf
nothing fancy
a few white puffy clouds
and the breath of angels
is not your reality
but it is reality
i am a jaguar
moving through the jungle
of your consciousness
i am a shaman
healing the pain
within your heart
with herbs long forgot
by those
who cut the heart from the palm
and tossed it into the sky
creating the moon
the dust from its flight
formed the stars
in the night sky
my breath
created the night breeze
that gave flight
to the owl
that grasped within
its claws
the last fragment
of hope
that man
would save
this river
and the lives
along its shores
with the same mercy
shown to him
by the gods
themselves
the leaves
like some broken patchwork
permitted light
to touch his face
forming shadows
of fine black lace
which caused the sun to wink at him
through these portholes
he saw the sky
the endless sea
of dreams untold
where clouds
were knights
and dragons bold
where he a boy could fly each day
but then
all too very soon
the night had cast
it’s spell on time
and from his tree
he had to climb
downward
towards his fate with men
unable is he
to climb that tree
which led to dreams
that are untold
for now it’s limbs
refuse to hold
the boyish man
who tries to climb
now another
will climb his tree
permitting light
to touch his face
and from the sky
a dream embrace
before the night
can cast it’s spell
Read Between the Minds 