martin

martin Oct 2013

me bike

My bike is still just fine
I've had it a long time
I rode it just the other day
It's the way it's been looked after
I used to go much faster than I do today

I got it when I was only ten
Could hardly reach the pedals then
It cost twenty seven pounds
From a shop in Maidstone town

It seems to know its way these days
To the pub and back
I shall never give my bike away
Or send it off for scrap

tell me about YOUR bike !

martin Oct 2013

Staying in

The evening flashes by
Just me and little bear
All calm
In control
Last week's reflections ripple
Next week's plans take shape
A pause between
As the fire smokes
Time to breathe before we start again

inhale
exhale
have a nice bath

martin Oct 2013

L plates senryu

take off the L plates
graduate, award yourself
poetic license

national poetry day here in the UK today

martin Sep 2013

Last cut haiku

neighbour cuts his lawn
meticulous perfect stripes
mine green with envy

martin Sep 2013

The best poem in the world

Really like the title
Poem's not worked out
If it does I promise
I'll give y'all a shout

Alternative title- The best poem in the world (ever) so put it on the daily email please.
Small brown envelopes of cash are available by negotiation.
Copyright martin. All rights reserved
including mine to live in the fantasy world of my choice, in which having written the best poem in the world, I am asked to write ditties for the Queen, and invited on holiday by Sir Richard Branson to his private island. Of course I refuse, far too ******, all that money. (Not the Queen you understand, I would not refuse her, within reason).
The wife says I'm in a funny mood today. Don't know what she means.

martin Sep 2013

Graveyard poem for Timothy

Not one to visit graves
I find the dead poor company

I might look closer at the lichen
Or observe the yew tree canopy
Or read the names just to see how fashions change

But for those left lying there
I don't see them, they don't see me
One day I'll be like them
Scarce a memory

Timothy, one of our most active members, has been on hp for a year, one his specialities being graveyard poems. Thanks for all your comments.

martin Sep 2013

enigma

You can never conquer me
I won't be bought or sold
I can take away your looks
I can make you old

I can be the enemy
I can sit and bide
Always an enigma
Sometimes on your side

Ever am I constant
Slowly passing by
When you just forget me
That's when I can fly

You can mark my passing
With an anxious frown
You can measure
You can treasure
But never slow me down

A constant disappearing
Like footprints in the sand
You can try to cheat me
But you'll never beat me
I hold the winning hand