Friday, April 6, 2012

Hidden Hope




The meaning is hidden now…
I know
But you do not long remain
A child
…and our hope
Is to raise
Not a child
But honorable,
Independent
Willing
Hard-working
Contributing
Adults

My dear,
The present is always
Vapor on our fingers
But the future depends
On it

The meaning is hidden now
But what you are learning
Is not for today
But for an eternity of
Tomorrows

Janet Martin

Dad, Mom, the future is in our hands...ever so briefly!


Hidden Art

Poetics Aside Prompt: hidden

Mom, why do we need to learn this? they wail
To learn the art of learning, her reply

God, why do I need to learn this, she wails
To learn the art of trusting, His reply

Janet~

Hidden Ocean




Sometimes I keep hidden
Those thoughts I should let show
The pride I have in my children
And the gift of watching them grow

Oh, they all know that I love them
And often I tell them so
But the depth of it is hidden
In life’s constant ebb and flow

Beneath the holding and scolding
The trial and error of youth
I see the future unfolding
And past’s undaunted truth

Time’s swift tumble is hidden
In a volley of laughter and tears
It comes and leaves, unbidden
From moments to hours to years

…passing through my fumbling fingers
Its eagerness I cannot quell
But oft in the evening lingers
A low and bleeding knell

…because sometimes I keep hidden
Those things that I should not
While time speeds by unbidden
On the heels of second-thought

© Janet Martin

…I remember my dad telling me,
‘there is so much I want to say in too short a time’
Often he spoke by the way he lived and I am learning
as I watch my children grow, that what I thought at times was ‘hidden’
was there all along…and suddenly I hear him, not by what he said, but by what he did.

The photo was taken the other night when I insisted that Matt and Tori come with me on my run/walk. The protested vehemently and then ended up having a blast! 
This could be the beginning of a beautiful...habit;)




Inside the Bud


Under those freckles
And under your blush
Beneath your ‘caught-between’ voice
Of adolescent rush
Inside this bud
Of ruddy tan
I see the stirring
Of a man

© Janet Martin


Thursday, April 5, 2012

Easter/Hope Sonnet




Come; lay your sin-stained burden at His feet
Oh, do not try to carry it alone
He bids us come to heaven’s mercy-seat
Forgiveness pours in oceans from His throne
The way of man is doomed to fear and need
The vile deceiver taunts with poisoned fruit
Brushing his vulgar lies against our greed
Desiring to draw us from Saving Truth
But hark, what rings across earth’s weary field?
“Come;” it is by His stripes that we are healed

When will this endless war and fighting cease?
When will we lay down hate and embrace love?
Oh, look upon love's glorious Prince of Peace
Did He not leave His holy throne above?
To suffer in the place of wretched men
And give His life for all humanity
A ransom for our awful debt of sin
He died; a perfect Lamb, to set us free
How long will we resist Hope's grand appeal?
Come; it is by His stripes that we are healed

The wages of our sinful lust is death
The gift of God is everlasting life
He sealed redemption's plan with His last breath
As ‘it is finished’ lifts us from this strife
Dare we to scoff at such a work as this?
Or break his heart and turn away our eyes?
Dare we to face Him then without His gift
And thus reject eternal paradise?
The day of grace is now; oh will we yield?
Come; it is by His stripes that we are healed

© Janet Martin

Inspired as I listened to Alas, and did My Savior bleed (link in previous post)


3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
   a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
   he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
 4 Surely he took up our pain
   and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
   stricken by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
   he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
   and by his wounds we are healed.  Isa. 53:3-5

For the wages of sin is death,
but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 6:23


I Don't Understand...

As I look upon
His nail-scarred hands
and thorny crown…

…and as I think how He
put on flesh
so we may obtain
His righteousness…

…or how the perfect
Lamb of God
Left heaven
For this sin-cursed sod…

…or how, when He knelt
In Gethsemane
His thoughts were for
Humanity…

…and how, as He hung
Upon that tree
His cries were still
For you and me…

…or as the spear
Thrust deep, His side
It was still for us
He cried…

…or how, by
Jesus' dying breath
We receive life
Through His death…

No, I don’t understand
Why I receive...
...but this I know
I believe

© Janet Martin

 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith
—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 
 not by works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:8-9


For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, 
that whoever believes in him shall not perish 
but have eternal life. 
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, 
but to save the world through him.
John 3 :16-17

Cause and Effect...


Dear God,
Our hatred causes us to do the unthinkable
But oh, God
Your love causes us to believe the impossible!

Janet Martin

God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, 
so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
2 Cor. 5:21

No 'Free' in Freedom...repost



Somberly, up the quiet tree-lined street
The steady stream of solemn ranks are led,
As sun-beams dance to the drummer’s beat
Filtering through the branches overhead
Beyond the tears and past the trees
The music of a small child’s laughter swells
Stark contrast to the infantry
Bowing ‘neath the tolling of the bells

Then, as the bag-pipe sound exalts
The melody of sweet Amazing Grace
The banner-covered coffin halts
For it has reached its final resting place
The last note fades, the cannon flies
Echoing across a distant shore
But none as stirring as the mother’s cries
“There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Put down your banners, lay down your guns
My sweet baby boy has died
Tributes, salutes, many battles won
Won’t bring him back” she cried
“Take away all the roses for nothing will be
Like it ever was before
The price of freedom is too hard for me
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

Freedom (part two)

Up the rocky skull-strewn trail
A teaming, screaming throng of hatred surged
Swarming ‘round a form so pale
Upon a place called Calvary they converged
Beyond the tumult, wild and raging
Not a solitary friend is found
Stark contrast to the shouts and praising
As the palm-tree branches decked the ground

Then as the sound of steel on steel
Rings beyond the horror on the hill
As they drive in each cruel nail
‘Gainst the cries of ‘Father, not My will’
And as they raise the blood-stained cross
In victory the maddened thousands roar
As Mary weeps her deepest loss
“There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Take away your hammers, lay down your swords
My dear precious son has died”
As the lightning flashed and the thunder roared
There at His feet she cried
“Take away all your hatred, your jeers and chanting
For you have slain my Lord
Take away all your weapons, your raging and ranting
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, oh what a price
So that we may be set free
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, love's sacrifice
Is beyond understanding for me
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, let us value each day
And cherish each living breath
Oh, what a price someone needs to pay
For the cost of freedom is death



Before My Time



I've heard tell
Before my time
Poets revered 
Rhythm and rhyme

Janet~

Poetics Aside Prompt: before our time...
I just couldn't resist this;)

Before Micro-mentality




Before micro-waves, dishwashers
Riding mowers, computers, cell-phones

Before instant potatoes, rice, oatmeal or pizza
Before instant anything

Before gyms to de-stress
Or talk of fitness
 
Before X-box, i-pod, Nintendo
You-tube, game-boy and  500 TV channels

There were twenty-four hour days
Of hard-work…and play

…and front-porches in the evening
With families on them

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside Prompt:  write a poem about something before your time.


The Glory Days

Image Source: gazettextra.com


First game of the season...
They tumble onto the ice
Miniature robots
And darting minnows
Each a super-star
In the rite of innocence
Because at four and five years old
You can do nothing wrong
These are the true glory days

© Janet Martin

I read an article inviting kids to Mites/Tykes Hockey...
"Come! chill out and have fun because mites hockey is all about having fun! That’s all!"
What happened to the rest of the levels? Oh, right! Expectation…and fear of failure.
 

NaPOWriMo Prompt: In honor of opening day! 

Here is one of my all-time Favorites by Kenny Rogers

 

Sullied Intention

I would stay up all night to love
You. I am eager for your charms
I have no objection as you delight
Me. Weaver of a thousand poems…

Your phantom lips breathe thought
I have never heard
as my expired dream is stirred
and resurrected by a jot
of crazy longing in my thought
for you have never sought my heart
without intent to tear apart
the wall of my guarded torment
you scale it; the resistance I attempt
insists on begging you to stay
for you are never far away
and yet you dangle in mid-air
somewhere beyond
my hemisphere
perhaps, perhaps I ought to sleep
I cannot write; you’ve cut too deep

J~


Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Of Great Privilege

It is no small thing
This privilege we are given
To approach the throne of grace
And God of earth and Heaven
To make our wants and wishes known
And claim His victory as our own

It is no mere thought
That we can freely call
Upon the Name of Christ the Lord
Creator of us all
That He who formed us from the dust
May be the One in whom we trust

When we beckon to Him
It is no casual place
That we approach with love and shame
To kneel in His embrace
But by His holy Blood-drops spilt
He vanquishes our debt of guilt

It is no small thing
This little word called prayer
As He makes intercession
For those groans we cannot bear
And there He lavishes on us
The hope we find in Him, JESUS!

© Janet Martin


 Pray without ceasing; 1 Thess. 5:17

Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Romans 8:26





Four Easter Tankas

The Tanka is a Japanese poem of five lines. The first and third are composed of five syllables, and the others seven. In Japanese, tanka is often written in one straight line, but in English and other languages, we usually divide the lines into the five syllabic units: 5-7-5-7-7.


While I chose my pride
He chose three nails and a cross
A spear in his side
While rivers of holy blood
Poured in streams of redemption

***
While I stood with them
Scoffing to hide my just fear
He gave perfect love
As He bowed His thorn-crowned Head
Declaring, ‘it is finished’

 ***

While I stood condemned
Jesus signed my redemption
With His sacred blood
And now all who will believe
May have everlasting life…
***
(I was going to stop here, but how can I? One more tanka of humble grateful praise)

Sing hallelujah
Lift your voice in joyful praise
Christ reigns forever
This King calls us His children
All we must do is believe

~Janet Martin~

100% Crazy

The way you unzip my heart
with your half-grin words
the way you undo my will
in an almost perfect hurt
the way you touch me
from a thousand miles away
drives me 100% crazy
every day

the way you lure me
with vowels and consonants
holding me captive
without resistance
because the seduction of poetry
will have its way
and drive me 100 % crazy
every day

what perfect torment
of soul you have stirred
in the inexplicable haunting of
unwritten word
for Muse oft elusive
will have her way
and drive me 100% crazy
every day

J~

Poetics Aside Prompt: 100%....something

A Couple of Blues Songs



Housewife Blues

Mama always said that there’d be days like this
Oh, mama always said that there’s be days like this
But ‘dis dog days been so doggone long, I think that’s all there is

Chil’runs got my van and they got my money too
Oh, them chil’run’s got my van and they got my money too
But they brung the van back with an empty tank, what is a mom to do?

Sonny, grab a pail, the roof’s begun to leak
Oh, sonny grab a pail ‘cause the roof’s begun to leak
But we’ll be fine, a little laughter and wine, until sunshine next week

Got me some lovin’ and I got me some singin’ to do
Got me some prayin’ and got me some thankin’ too
The Lord never leaves us, we’re gonna make it through


Blues Song

he flew in on a horse with one bad knee
naw, he rode in on a dragon from the sea
and everyone wondered who this man could be

he stole the heart of every maid in town
no, he stole the will of every girl around
while every man began to hunt him down

his words were brilliant like a halo-wreath
his words were smooth as honey-buttered breath  
but when he smiled he had maggots in his teeth

sally, don’t chase those lies of  azure blue
he’s a’gonna break your spirit if you do
‘cause nothin’s gonna last that’s too good to be true

he flew out of town on the end of a loaded gun
no, he rode out of town on the fist’s of every man’s son
and when they put him down oh, you shoulda’ seen him run

Janet~

NaPoWriMO Prompt: Write a blues song






Tuesday, April 3, 2012

A Royal Wedding




Behold: look yonder
See what breaks the ramparts of the sky
As golden thunder
Sends the stars in showers from on high
Behold; who comes
In royalty on heaven’s mercy seat
With angel legions at his side
Winged creatures at His feet

Behold; what sounds
What fills the air with roar of rushing water?
And who descends
With glory rare in search of Zion’s daughter?
Behold; behold
It is the Lord. Behold the Bridegroom comes
As hallelujah fills the air
His bride is coming home

Behold the Love
He sees her there in linens bright and clean
Behold the blood
That cleansed Her where vile sin-stains once had been
Behold the song
That rends the earth; behold the great I AM
Blessed are those invited to
The wedding of the Lamb’

© Janet Martin

Then a voice came from the throne, saying:
"Praise our God,
all you his servants,
you who fear him,
both great and small!"
6 Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:
"Hallelujah!
For our Lord God Almighty reigns.
7 Let us rejoice and be glad
and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.
8 Fine linen, bright and clean,
was given her to wear."
(Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of God's holy people.)
9 Then the angel said to me, "Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!" And he added, "These are the true words of God."
Rev. 19: 5-9

NaPoWriMo Prompt : write an

Epithalamium

(wedding poem)



No Apologies Necessary

You will never apologize to me
For taking my heart
One small piece at a time

Love expands hearts, I suppose
Because no matter how many pieces you take
There is always a little left

And I know you will never apologize
For the way you twist those remaining pieces
Inside-out

…but that’s okay
If you never apologize to me
I never apologized to my mother either

© Janet~

For Poetics Aside Prompt: Apologies or not

I'm Sorry, Dear Sir



Poetic Aside Prompt: An Apology or Un-apology.


I’m sorry, dearest sir
but you seem quite unaware
of the dangerous stir
in the atmosphere
and you seem oblivious
to my sudden attraction
Kind sir, may I offer
an explanation?

My dear sir, I’m sorry
but it is not your hair
though it is quite attractive, I agree
and the thing that is causing my open-mouth stare
is not your fine physicality
Your eyes are a striking and breath-taking blue
and I'll admit your face is quite handsome too
Your jeans, I am sure are a quality brand
but today I am drawn to that thing in your hand
and the scent that startled me as you strode by
rousing a wild, dangerous insanity
so unless you care to finish what you have begun
I suggest you hang on to your coffee and run!

Janet

Gleaming or Looming

The day looms before us
We know not its sands
Its mystery unfolded
From Heavenly hands

Shall we approach it
With trembling and fear
Or with the assurance
That our God is near?

The day gleams before us
What comfort to know
That God watches o’er us
Wherever we go

© Janet Martin

The unknown has the potential to fill us with fear...
...or hope. Which will it be for us today?
Does the unknown loom or gleam?

  So do not fear, for I am with you;
   do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
   I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isa. 41:10

Time's Pennies

Clenching my fist
What good can it do?
Life’s transient moments
Still trickle on through

Clinging more tightly
To the one in my grip
Does not alter courses
Of the moments that slip

Ethereal river
How swiftly you run
From midnight to dawn
To the setting of sun

Wee moment, time’s penny
A miniscule lot
But put them together
And see what we’ve got

Moments of pleasure
Moments of strife
Gathered together
In a beautiful life

© Janet 

Unfettered Bliss


Abruptly from unfettered bliss
The slumbering mind is wrenched
As alarms clocks across the universe
Announce night’s sudden end

…then stumbling out to greet the dawn
A new bliss sweeps our eyes
As heaven spills its palette on
The floor of paradise

© Janet Martin

Monday, April 2, 2012

Trees at Dusk


Like stalwart sentinels they stand
To guard the waning day
Their shadows stretched on muted land
Enfolding work and play

Dark, raven spires reach to brush
The portals where the moon
Lolls in the periwinkle hush
Of day’s retiring swoon

Silhouette, precisely-sketched
Against the crimson dusk
Their flawless detail clearly etched
In shades of dewy musk

Faithful, four-season master-piece
Of intricate design
Timber art rivets our gaze
To dusk's horizon line

© Janet Martin

Visitor



He loved pansies
So she plants them
Over his heart
Every spring
No one sees her
Kneeling there
Replaying
Life’s brief dance
With him

Grief never tires
Yet, it is not
Love’s revenge
But its bittersweet harvest
Pansies flourish
‘neath the tears
Of heaven
And one lone
Visitor

© Janet Martin 

Invisible Visitor


No sound of footsteps on the floor
No tender arm around me
No slightest creaking of a door
How is it that you found me?

My eyes are open wide as day
I know I am not dreaming
I cannot turn my face away
The silent air is teaming.......

.....with images and memories
and whispers soft and flowing
How is it that you come to me
Within the twilight’s glowing?

And how, with door and shutter drawn
With locks all firmly bolted
How is it that I look upon
you now with longing jolted?

Too long, too long I've missed you so
I draw your arms around me
Tell me dear, I need to know
How is it that you found me?

J~

Black

 My brown book-cases were looking tired...I woke them up with black paint. I know this is a corny take on the prompt but it really was all I could come up with for now, having been immersed in black paint for the better part of a week:) Blame this on the fumes;)

Does your furniture need a face-lift?
Here's a plan of attack
Simply grab a brush
and paint it black

***

Don't know what to wear
to the party tonight?
If you choose black
You will always be right

***

Once I was a young thing
With heart still intact
But scars are a cruel thing
Invisible black

***


# 1 Song on June 7 1966 Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones...NaPoWRiMo Prompt; Use the # 1 hit on the day you were born for inspiration.

Think Spring

From This..

 
                                                    ....to this

Victoria and I were inspired by Megan yesterday:)

There is an essence of eternal spring
in little girls...
There is an essence of little girls
in the laughter of eternal spring.

Sweet is the carol
Of the robin's spring lay
Sweeter the orchard
decked in fragrant display
Are you heavy-laden
Lift your arms to the wind
Dance in the ball-room
Of beautiful Spring

Janet Martin

Whose There?


Knock, knock
Whose there
I open the door
But it’s just the night air

Knock, knock
Who could it be?
Misery loves
Company

Knock, knock
I guess I knew
Without looking
It was you

J~

Poetics Aside prompt; Visitor


Dear Yester- Girl...

Sometimes I wonder who you are
You seem different
Not at all like you used to be
Are you me?
Or just someone I used to know?

I’d ask you in for a visit
To get to know you better
Coffee, is it?
Or have you switched to tea?
You never can tell, these days

Sometimes I wonder who you are
And I want to know you better
But you keep inching toward the door
And all I can do is watch you go
...or do you even exist anymore?

Have you left for good, dear girl?
Being a woman is fine
But I must confess, I miss you
Dear, carefree, laughing
Yester-girl of mine

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside PAD Prompt: Visitor

...and sometimes I wear a Cape



I must not neglect
To don this cape each day
It helps me rise above
Come whatever may

Within this cape I sense
A glorious super-power
A genuine defense
In life’s most troubled hour

One day I rose without it
Despair and fear loomed tall
Then suddenly I heard it
A Super-power call

I felt Him wrap about me
No ephemeral thing
But, a cloth that’s kindred
To the angel’s wing

The unbelieving call it
Fantasy on dead air
The believer whispers humbly
And simply calls it Prayer

© Janet Martin

Poetic Bloomings prompt; ..and sometimes I wear a cape

Sunday, April 1, 2012

A Triolet: Not Yours to Keep

Give it back to the world
That whisper in your soul
Is a banner, waiting to be unfurled
Give it back to the world
For when fear’s clenched fist is uncurled
Hope urges bravery to its goal
Give it back to the world
That whisper in your soul

© Janet Martin

Inspired by a quote read here

No man should be shamefaced through his work, to give back to the world a portion of its lost heart. — Louise Bogan 1897-1970 American Poet

Comunicating to Self


Hey you
Yes, you
there in the mirror
STOP, taking yourself
so seriously
and just
live for the love of it.
Does the sun grumble
because it is too hot
or the sky long for substance
that it is not
Or does the dandelion covet
a shade other than gold
Or, does the oak tree sigh
because it is gnarled and old
I think not!
But they live fully
in their own skin
and never beyond
the moment they’re in

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside PAD Challenge; Communicating

PAD Callenge: Communicating

I don’t care what you say, my dear
But just stay
Here,
With your breath on my hair
and your lips 'gainst my ear
It’s not so much the words you speak
as the rush of your scent and such
While wild crazy nothings brush my cheek
I melt beneath their touch

J~

Poetics Aside PAD Challenge

Saturday, March 31, 2012

An Interview with You, my Love


You slip your fingers intimately
Through mine
For you know what I am thinking
By the hint of a smile
In the darkness
Between us
Is it an inch
Or ten-thousand miles?
Is there a difference?
For when it comes to love…
…to you,
There are no empty spaces
They are full of love
And  thoughts
Of love
The greater the distance then,
The greater the love,
But no,
For I love you completely
And in its completeness
There can be no increase
Or decrease
Simply
Love

J~