Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Thursday, December 28, 2023

Don't Judge a Book By The Cover

 Everywhere we turn we see a library of humanity!


Behind the whole of human race
The smiling or the somber face
The eyes we meet in passing, oh
Behind each silence or hello
A story of a life unfolds

…behind facades our gaze beholds
Ink-drops of love, of loss and gain
Of want and need, pleasure and pain
Of holding on and letting go
Shimmers of a life story, so

…because we do not know in full
The details of love’s push and pull
The landscape of life’s ups and downs
That turns the face to smiles or frowns
Because we cannot see the part

…that cradles dreams, or breaks the heart
That fuels gladness or despair
The pressing paragraphs of care/prayer
Should we not be much kinder then
To a world full of fellowmen?

…and season each response with grace
For what we see upon the face
Does not reveal the no or yes
That authors ruin or success
Where we all share the common ground

…of hope, of Something lost or found
Of longings that have not been met
Held in the brooding bay of ‘yet
In stories of ink not yet dry
In so much more than meets the eye

Tall, short, rich, poor, plump or petite
Each bears a book that does not meet
The eye; where fingers cannot trace 
The lines that bridle human race
Into a kind of library

...penned by the likes of you and me
With no two stories quite the same
However great or small its fame
Where behind every face we meet 
Unfolds a story, bittersweet 

© Janet Martin

2 Cor.5:10
For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, 
so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done 
while in the body, whether good or bad.

Rev.20:11-13
Then I saw a great white throne and the One seated on it.
Earth and heaven fled from His presence, and no place was found for them.
12And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne.
And there were open books,
and one of them was the Book of Life.
And the dead were judged according to their deeds, as recorded in the books.
13The sea gave up its dead,
and Death and Hades gave up their dead,
and each one was judged according to his deeds.

Saturday, September 9, 2023

A Little Ink Reminder...



Life/love is poetry
waiting to be written...




Some days poem-possibility is like fruit, ripe for harvest and preserving,


...other days require (soul)-searching!

Ps.139:23-24
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.

...but every poet does well to remember Who bestows the ink
then, to be diligent and conscientious in our reply!

***
The troubles of this world could drain the poet’s pen of verse
Its weight of care could crush the lyric-spring within the heart
But what doth it profit a man to clench a fist and curse
When all it takes is each of us to do our willing part
To make this world a kinder place for our fellowman
To help each other weather trouble’s trouble while we can

The poet’s charge is more than ink-caper to paper pressed
But rather, an attempt to keep us wonderfully awed
A page can capture beauty, like a cloud by pink caressed
To replay when the day grows dark and we start to doubt God
Poetry preserves pictures long after seasons have set
So we remember tinctures we might otherwise forget

…the laughter after it has passed, the once-upon-childhood
Before the way time flies teaches the fledgling how to fly
It gentles bitter aftermath of love misunderstood
As the whisper of God compels the poet to reply
And rally us to be more humbly glad for me-‘n-you
Remembering who we will answer to when life is through

The trouble of this world will always be; the poet knows
The pen is mightier than sword; font is a holy thing
For the sacred longevity of written word bestows
Accountability for all touched by its rendering
Thus, before thought entrusts its erring tendencies to ink
The poet ought to ask the Author of Love how to think

The troubles of this world could drain the poet’s pen of rhyme
Its weight of care could crush the raring rush to write and write
Without the One whose replenishes joy, time after time
And overflows the wellspring of the heart with sheer delight
To share without exception, every hymn that frets to spill
And follow the direction of the Hand that lets the quill

...where the trouble that groans is never greater than His grace
Though pleasure/measure of a poem cannot erase creature-care
Like a soft kiss upon the cheek, a handshake or embrace
A poem can kindle a smile, a tear, a song, a prayer
To cheer each other on with kindness and humility
A little ink-reminder of God, spilled in poetry  

© Janet Martin

Happy September Saturday!






Thursday, January 19, 2023

Rekindled Delight

 


Across a landscape ethereal
And not yet tamed by time
To journeymen of syllable
Unfurls a world of rhyme
And stars that poets climb

Sometimes knowledge alone is cursed
And deaf to the wild sound
That plagues the lowly bard with thirst
For wisdom not yet found
And lyrics still unbound

How ephemeral is the gate
That swings softly ajar
To usher through glimmers that bait
Poems that not yet are
Save in one fallen star

…snared on a shimmer of surprise
To thwart the stinging bite
Of words cut down to arrow size
To spur the songsters flight
In rekindled delight

The bull's eye of a poet's heart
Weathers many-a-test
Long suffering is worth the art 
And hunger worth the quest
Of sorrow at its best

© Janet Martin

Saturday, November 6, 2021

For Fence-Crowders


I'm trying to keep 'my eye on the furrow 
and my hand on the plow'
but wow, not an easy task 
while poem-breakers surge 
 where leaf ballerinas twirl 
and wanna-be-ballads waltz !








Sometimes duty feels like a fence
Where obligation bars
The gate between toil's diligence
And pastures full of stars

Sometimes responsibility
And ballad-bearers clash
As seasons throb with poetry
Where hands of time are brash

But in a world so full of ways
To amaze and enthrall
It is enough to sing the praise
Of He who authors all

And should a breath or two perchance
Be wrangled into word
Pray it will stir the heart to dance
In worship to our Lord

Then, though duty does not resign
Where obligation bars
The gate, may thankfulness outshine
Yon pasture full of stars

Because the One so full of love
Where hope and mercy brim
Will overflow joy's treasure-trove
With the wonder of Him

© Janet Martin

Isa.25:1
O LORD, You are my God. I will exalt You,
 I will praise Your name,
 For You have done wonderful things;
 Your counsels of old are faithfulness and truth.




Saturday, October 30, 2021

Ink-Smiths

 


Yesterday's chores included reorganizing and tidying book nooks!


Oh joy! Why?
I made room for more😅

The ink-memento below was forged from the poet's perspective

With ink they praise
With ink they weep
With ink they groan and grin
And purge with phrase
What cannot sleep
Beneath a shroud of skin

With ink they love
With ink they thrill
With ink they try and try
To snare glints of
An escadrille
That marches through a sigh

With ink they pray
And beg and brood
Where heartache’s millstones press
The gold and gray
Of gratitude
Into scarred happiness

With ink they cry
With ink they smile
While forging cons with prose
To pacify
And reconcile
The thorns beneath the rose

With ink they wield
Thoughts tools of trade
Where parchment anvils bear
 Whispers soft-steeled
Against the blade
That fells fields of thin air 
  
© Janet Martin



Wednesday, October 13, 2021

Poem-tation

pōəm -ˈtāSH(ə)n/ Definition: Temptation to compose poem😉😊😍


Watching Tot chase bubbles reminded me a bit
of Poet chasing Poem...







The art of poem-tation seeps through every shade of sky
It vexes concentration in each leaf that flutters by
Four seasons worth of beauty with life’s troubles juxtapose
To cheer the thorns of duty with an unrelenting rose

The tug of poem-tation surges from dawn’s teeming brink
The clockwork of creation hoists premieres streaming with ink
Disparity twixt hand and heart, resumes its rivalry
Where charity pursues the part that authors poetry

The joy of poem-tation reels beneath the wheels of grief
A constant invitation to pursue hues veiled beneath
What meets the eye to stoke the sky and tint the glint of blooms
Soon lowered like a lullaby to stubble-stippled tombs

The wink of poem-tation is both flirtatious and grim
The fruit of inspiration bends the lyric-laden limb
Where words threaded together should do more than lilt and rhyme
Ah, pray they cheer and help us weather ups and downs of Time

The dust of poem-tation is stirred by a breath of breeze
That sparks a celebration shimmering in poplar trees
Rousing the strange impression of a river rushing where
Time’s four-season succession flows through shores of leaf and air

The prize of poem-tation dangles like a pendulum
Hope’s eager expectation wonders if the words will come
How cautiously Want clutches at inklings that start to drop
Lest, as soon as Thought touches it, like bubbles…
Poem
Goes 
‘Pop’

© Janet Martin

Soon lowered like a lullaby to stubble-stippled tombs...







Monday, August 30, 2021

Courage, With Joy

Below is a message from my friend Jane, sent to me years ago
after I confessed how terribly terrified I am to share the poetry publicly...
I printed and scotch-taped her reminder beside my computer screen
and it has been a powerful reminder more times than I can count...

Because of the prolific nature of this 'poem-porch' 
one might assume it's easy to hit 'publish' and bare heart-pieces to the world. 
But if it were possible to pull apart the place where feelings lie you would see
so much would-be insecurity, timidity and fear! 
However, whatever our creative outlet is, 
we only ever create with what God first has created. 
We are like children playing with His crayons 
and thereby we create 
and owe God an answer when He asks,
'What are you going to do with it?'

The most terrifying, exhilarating thing we will ever do
is to 'let go and let God!'

My friends host our church's podcast for women.
 Another friend is the guest on the latest episode 8.
I was so touched by her reminder that,
'as we are aware that we create with what He gives
creativity becomes a source and form of constant worship'
Yes, and
 This worship helps to fill life with constant joy!


George Macdonald wrote over a hundred years ago
"A poet is a man who is glad of something and
tries to make other people glad of it too"
That quote is still as true as ever
and reveals why an artist has the courage, with joy,
to share what they/we have created...

...to recognize with holy awe that all we are and touch
Is created and granted by He who loves us so much
We are so very diff'rent, yet still so very 'the same'
Created in His image to bring glory to His name

How loud doubt's voice would shout with fearful insecurity
Without His still small voice that whispers 'just do it for Me'
Then suddenly dark demons flee and joy transforms despair
As we honour His majesty with talents He put there 

Forbid, when face to face we give account for what we did
That pride or doubt or lack of faith kept our talents hid
Or that Comparison, (the deadliest kill-joy of all)
Would have succeeded in making us ashamed of His Call

So pray for courage to proceed with joy to glorify
The Giver with the gift that He has given you and I
Then, as we hold the crayons, may we be filled with sheer awe 
To feel His Hand over our fingers, teaching us to draw

Janet Martin

Let's all seek to bless others by glorifying the Giver
with our gift/s.

This poem could also be called
Why my to-do list grows longer and longer
because in the middle of Very Busy...a poem might nudge😊


Monday, August 9, 2021

The Poet's Plight-Fight-Fright-Rite/Write



I cringe beneath the critic's eye
Yet crave honest un-flattery
Lest I should run ink-rivers dry
With shadows of half-poetry

I blush to feel them crush the page
Splattered with pieces of my heart
While learning to embrace the wage
As rejection finetunes the art

I laugh and weep, am lost, then found
Drawn from despair's unholy brink
Toward the Holy Parchment Ground
Of a blank page begging for ink

Janet Martin

Wednesday, April 21, 2021

You Will Forget Me (when I'm gone)



PAD Challenge21: Here is Robert Lee Brewer's Prompt for Today

For today's prompt, take the phrase "(blank) Me," 
replace the blank with a word or phrase, 
make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. 
Possible titles include: "Tell Me," "Forgive Me," and/or "You've Got to Believe Me." 
Of course, feel free to bend the rules 
and have a title like "Home Sweet Ho(me)" or "Pick a The(me)."

Okay, so I acknowledge,
my homespun scribblings will never grace the Literary World's Center Stage,
but it's still important to remember,
'that fields of ink may live from age to age'

These volumes below are living proof !

 





These few pages above are just a glimpse of 
this volume packed with ancient masterpieces,
as powerful/relevant today as the day they were penned!

My name will fade from thoughts and lips when I am dead and gone
The echo-world of 'us' will slip as Time’s Corp marches on
The bulk of my possessions and the things that I held dear
Will pass through hands; for we are all just brief sojourners here
All bound to be forgot, as generations disappear

Thus, here’s to poetry; its sea of passion undeterred
For though the poet may be gone, long lives the written word

The hand that held the pen, long after it returns to dust
May cheer some future fellowman, may buoy failing trust
May remind him or her though we are centuries apart
Time never really could deter the matters of the heart
Where love is our utter need and longing is its dart

Then write, dear poet, write; but bear in mind the grit of ink
Though we are gone a poem might live longer than we think

My name will fade like morning mist beneath the glaring sun
Soon all the faces that I kissed will to death’s tryst succumb
Who knows who waits to turn the leaves of Poet’s printed jot
What thread of influence will weave through some far future thought
Or who will glean the remnant sheaves of harvests, long forgot

Therefore, dear poet, as we plant the pastures of the page
Let’s not forget that fields of ink may live from age to age

© Janet Martin

Saturday, April 10, 2021

Get In The Habit of Writing Your Own Headlines



PAD Challenge day 10:For today's prompt, take the phrase "Get (blank),"
replace the blank with a word or phrase,
make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.


It’s not the media that writes the headlines of our lives
We are the ink of love’s insights; of joy which hope derives
We choose between fear’s torment or the strength of a wise word
We make the most or least of moments pouring undeterred

It’s not the world that works its wonders in the human heart
But grace and courtesy unfurled in priceless works of art
We are the hands and feet that author change we want to see
Of helping one another, of love’s vows kept faithfully

It’s not the headlines that dictate our state of happiness
We are the writers that create ‘Front Page-worthy Kindness’
It’s not the media that writes the way that we reply
To high and lows of love and life; oh no, it’s you and I

It all comes down to this; whether we are thankful or not
Whether we let the tether of fear commandeer our thought
Whether we hold accountable the person in the mirror
To write the kind of article that others want to hear 

History in the making grants a very sacred gift
The honour of partaking in moments soon set adrift
Pray when Day's Dust of Duty strews its aftermath, we find
Headlines that tell of Beauty of True Love For Humankind 

© Janet Martin

A few of yesterday's headlines in my world include;
Grandchildren Help Gramma Clean Up Yard...



Gramma Teaches Tots How To Make Indoor Smores...


Anonymous Angels Who Nominated Unsuspecting Recipients,
 And Hardworking Local Florist (credit posted on FB only for privacy protection)
 Work Together To Create Happiness For Forty Surprised Flower-bouquet Receivers!!
(I was beautifully blessed to be at the receiving end!)


This post shared by a friend on Facebook inspired the above poem...


Monday, November 2, 2020

What Pity is a Bitty Ditty Then or (A Peek Inside Poetic Passion)


Often I'm a little super awkward and tongue-tied
when someone compliments and expresses appreciation for
the poetry here. 
Often  the embarrassed thank-you or the stutter
does not reflect the appreciation for the kind words of encouragement.
But I want to say a sincere thank-you/welcome! to visitors from
all over the globe who stop by this little poem-porch
whether for the photos,
 the blurb before the poem,
( some not-so-much-poetry-lovers have admitted
is why they enjoy dropping by) 
or the poem
Also, I want to attempt to give you a bit of a glimpse into the reason
I pursue passionately the potential of ink!
This blog is the offspring of prayer.
I pray about the poem,
the scripture, the picture.
I pray for and to God
be the glory!
And I pray for you!
That you are encouraged, blessed and challenged!
So to all who have suffered my fumbled responses,
there is an ocean of emotion behind
 each very heart-full
thank-you!!

This is the view from my porch this morning;
Quite a white awakening!



Far deeper than the pleasure of the poem 
The poet appraises the flight of ink 
The essence of a butterfly, a storm 
More than a tug on ties of Feel and Think 

Far broader than the page a poem ought 
To span. For man is merchant of the mind 
And heart. The war twixt emotion and thought 
Is like summer and winter intertwined 

Far weightier than pen, the parchment’s toll 
From belfries, paper thin and commonplace 
To influence the sacred crux of Soul 
With more than a half-smile upon the face 

Far mightier than sword is the effect 
Of written word. Far deeper than the thrill 
When inklings and emotions rush unchecked 
By the invasion of the poet’s quill 

What pity is a bitty ditty then 
If ink is but an entertaining nod 
If wonder is the plunder of a pen 
Rather than an awakening to God 

© Janet Martin 


1 Cor.10:31
So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, 
do it all for the glory of God.


Friday, October 16, 2020

The Poet/Poem's Charge


An unexpected day off means unexpected extra-poem time! 
Between more mundane mandates, of course 😀





But writing poetry is far more than easy, breezy rhyme time!!


The poet’s task 
Pours from a flask 
That holds a large 
Charter of Trust 
Thus, if we drink 
This sacred ink 
We bear a charge 
Most serious 

For poetry 
It seems to me 
Is more than mere 
Rhythm and rhyme 
It is the ilk 
Of malt and milk 
Poured through the sphere 
Of thought and time 

…for beck and call 
Of madrigal 
is more than paint 
With verbal laud 
A poem is 
A kind of kiss 
To reacquaint 
The heart with God 

© Janet Martin 

And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, [do] 
all in the name of the Lord Jesus, 
giving thanks to God and the Father by him.

Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, 
do all to the glory of God.

 - 
In all things shewing thyself a pattern of good works: 
in doctrine [shewing] uncorruptness, gravity, sincerity,



love this song and this version!

Saturday, September 5, 2020

The Sound of Seas




Don’t scoff
And write me off just yet
As some rhyme-hyped-up maniac
I can’t explain
The need to rein
In, into ink life’s bric-a-brac
Of highs and lows
Wide smiles, oh-no’s
Good-byes, hellos,
Oh mercy me
This life, it seems
Runs rife with streams
Gleaming with would-be poetry
Don’t ask
And judge my ‘task’ at hand
While standing in your
Gifted Skin... 
I cannot ease
Or fully appease
The Sound of Seas
That roars within 
...But by the grace
That grants our days
I'll endeavor to
Taste and see
The goodness of
Mercy and love
And capture it in poetry

© Janet Martin
 
and because of these 'seas' my floor is STILL unmopped!! lol
. I WILL do it now she said,
I will. 
I will!
(while a would-be poem wriggles in her head)