Thursday, April 7, 2016

Urban Astronaut

PAD Challenge day 7: For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Urban (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.





Where the night is alive with lights
Far from star-hush, sky-wide
Far from the rolling, fir-fringed heights
Of a rural countryside

Where the only things she knew
Were gardens spilling blooms
And banter as a blush-breeze blew
Through outdoor living-rooms

…and dawn was a yellow bell
Where earth and the heavens meet
And childhood was the wink that fell
Beneath sun-bronzed bare feet

…ere Wanderlust drew her
Far from her grass-roots peace
To a Metropolitan Paradise
Of college-granted lease

Where the stars she sees at night
Sing or play basketball
Far from the rolling fir-fringed height
With no people at all

Her hills are made of glass
Gray concrete blooms with cars
Far from the wind that strums the grass
All flower-struck with stars

© Janet Martin

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

To a World of Well-wishers...



This post is the offspring of anguish as we watch well-wishers with closed without Bibles try to pinpoint Hope...


posting this song in memory of Merle Haggard who passed away today


Oh, how can we wish well on ways hell-bent for destruction?
Where Ignorance breeds ignorance, its knowledge vile and vain
It mutes the Mediator of heaven-lent instruction
Its sacrifice, a way of life that will not be again

To bless the bold defilement of love’s sacred, ordained role
Is to partake of Satan’s quaff; oh, pray that we abstain
Where lords of lawless liaisons care nothing for the soul
And extinguish a way of life that will not be again

Woe to a world of well-wishers that do not know the truth
As wide-eyed blindness wanders where nobody can explain
The reason to cleave to the Good; as they brainwash fair youth
Who do not know the way of life that will not be again

© Janet Martin

Universal, Subliminal Calling






God did not place us here
To be wealthy or poor
Or successful or beautiful
Or bold or unsure
Or happy or haughty
Or famous or not
Or worshiped like some
Mediocre god
Or loud or proud or
Lonely and sad
Or to be a miser
Or wiser than dad
Or to be a failure
Or full of fear
No, this is not
Why God put us here
But, whoever, wherever
Whatever our name
God placed us here
To be faithful to Him

© Janet Martin

 For from him and through him and for him are all things. 
To him be the glory forever! 
Amen.

Rom.11:36

Willing Winter Away...



Come on winter, we're weary of your fresh over-flowing bowl of Snowflakes for breakfast! 
Can we have golden, honeyed sunny-ohs, pl-e-e-e-ease?

The hierarchy of winter wanes
But will not seal its boreal gate
It dallies on the hungry lanes
Where barren courts of April wait

…for buds to break wide, starry-eyed
And toll the gong of spring-song tide
For hills to don youth’s vernal hue
For hearts to hope with awe anew
For brooks to babble, ripple, run
Freed from ice-grip by kiss of sun
Where by its silver lilt we sit
To watch worlds waken, wonder-lit
And grace the skin of earth with bloom
Birth wells from Nature’s umbral tomb
It swells the limb with green and gold
Where winter-long it wore white cold
Now each tree, like a troubadour
Laughs, full of poetry once more

As hierarchy of Shiver fell
Prey to the brogue of flower-bell
And yellow-zephyr pirouette
...but winter is not willing yet 


© Janet Martin

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Disdaining Solid Ground





It seemed so harmless then
The softening of moral ground
Preserved with careful prayer for years
…strange, how with adding a little sand
The secure footing disappears

It seemed so harmless when
Progress replaced Tradition’s ken
Were more than ideas by men
Now ways once revered are gone

It seemed so harmless when
We misconstrued vast history
And vexed the laws of love
And liberty, and simply being sorry
Is far from being enough

© Janet Martin