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martin Sep 2014
Out in my car, just for a ride
She said
I can tell how a man makes love
Just from the way he drives

Shall I be smooth
With confident smile
Or tear up the tarmac
Cut loose for a while

What is your preference,
May I ask?
Distracted I slam the next car up the ****
martin Aug 2014
I looked inside her head
Thought I'd see carousels, glitter *****
Unicorns juggling golden orbs
Glinting diamonds, chandeliered halls

But there was only sawdust, bits of straw
Knotted string, plasticene and beetles wings

Expectation is a foolish thing
martin Aug 2014
Forty years a widow
Now ready, willing
Willing it to end

Reluctant to face the so long Winter
The Winter of the long goodbye

Gazing through the morphine haze
Holding a hand on the dying bed
She said  'Is that you Stephen?'
Thinking she was already dead
My Grandmother, 1973
martin Aug 2014
They wanted a curriculum vitae
In absentia
I decided to ad lib
Ad nauseum
Ipso facto, lie and deceive
Exaggerate, mislead et cetera

Hardly a bona fide
Modus operandi
They caught me in flagrante delicto

Requiescat in pace, (RIP) my chances
Now I'm persona non grata
Mea culpa
So many latin phrases are in common use, e.g. (that's one too) status quo, terra firma, ad hoc, compos mentis, in memorandum, in situ, ex gratia, the list goes on and on, almost ad infinitum.
I never studied latin but the school-yard rhyme goes
Latin is a dead language, as dead as dead can be
First it killed the Romans and now it's killing me
Not quite true.
The title translates  " We're always in the ****, it's just the depth that varies a bit."
martin Aug 2014
He's feeling so contented
Catastrophe prevented
A million reads, go look see
Most of them invented
martin Aug 2014
My friends and I are sitting in this bombed out house
Our rifles rest against the wall
No lamp is lit
As daylight fades the little window frames the moon
We smoke, we read, we write a letter home
We don't dwell on horrors past
Nor on what is yet to come

                                                I won't let my guts gush out
                                                Into foreign mud
                                                Nor die in no man's land alone
                                                I want to make it back to you
                                                I want to make it home

We're winning now, they're on the run
Supplies cut off, they're desperate
They've suffered even more than us
But we have to keep the pressure up
One thing I've learned while I've been here
Don't underestimate the ***

                                                     I've been here such a long time now
                                                     Seen so many good men die
                                                     Killed a good few too
                                                     I know that danger still surrounds us
                                                     Even now I might not make it through

I just need to carry on
Hold on to my life
You know that when I make it back to you
Soon we will be man and wife

                                                      Jack
Re-post
Inspired by a pencil drawing done by my Grandfather during the 1st World War. I have posted the sketch on my home page on this 100th anniversary of the outbreak of that terrible conflict. He volunteered at the start and survived the whole duration, receiving the Military medal and the Distinguished Conduct medal and bar. He died aged 50 probably from lung cancer due to being gassed.
martin Jul 2014
Tonight good Duncan, friend and guest
This dagger shall pass through thy breast
I shall be king as was the prophecy and belief
Told by the hags upon the heath

Unsexed like them, my Lady chides me still
For my kindness and uncertain will
Even as my dagger drips once more
And blood from noble Banquo stains the floor

Now in blood so far I'm steeped
Only can I wade more deep

But this horizon leads no longer to infinity
Steadily it closes in on me
Slow but marching all the same
Toward the hill at Dunsinane

And though those warning words I scorned
Not all men are of woman born
Thus proves the prophesy no lie
Live by the sword and therefore by it die
In theatrical circles the superstition persists that it is very bad luck to mention the title of  "the Scottish play".  Such is the power of Shakespeare's  Macbeth.

References:
Act I  Scene V  (Lady Macbeth to Macbeth)
  yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o' the milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way

Act I  Scene VI  (Lady Macbeth)  
Come you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to toe-top full
Of direst cruelty!

Act III  Scene IV  (Macbeth)
I am in blood,
Stepped so far that should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

Act IV  Scene I  (Second Apparition)
Be ******, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
The power of man, for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth

Act IV  Scene I (Third Apparition)
Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him
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