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Nov 2018 · 227
Remember me
martin Nov 2018
When the sun comes rising up
On a brand new day

When shooting stars score the sky
And quickly fade away

When lark ascends in the fields
Flying high and free

When robin sings his little song...
Spare a thought for me


When the oak in springtime rain
Wakens from the dead

When the sun behind the wood
Glows a winter red

When starlings race and fall to roost
Then chatter in the cover

Think of me even if...
Your hand is in another
Jul 2018 · 221
Passing through
martin Jul 2018
You said to me the other day
There's only me and you
But babe I need to tell you
I'm only passing thru

You say I saved you from yourself
And perhaps it's true
But remember when I say
I'm only passing thru

It's gonna hit you 'cos you see
You'll need somebody new
You're gonna come to realise
I'm only passing thru

Passing thru, passing thru,
What I say is true
Babe did I tell you
I'm only passing thru
May 2018 · 246
HP limerick
martin May 2018
When you post your work on hp
It matters not where you might be
It travels the globe
No limit it knows
It's there for all to see
May 2018 · 289
limericks
martin May 2018
I think I'll go for a walk
To myself I shall mutter and talk
I'll search high and low
And home I'll not go
Till I find the poem I sought

Shocking how the time goes
Like a river it flows and flows
It just disappears
Days become years
Where does it go, do you knows?

He found a rock, the geologist
Whose identity he missed
He thought it was gneiss
But when he looked twice
It was just a piece of schist

They found a bug to eat plastic
Which everyone thought was fantastic
But they started to frown
When their pants fell down
Because it ate the elastic
Apr 2018 · 365
Scoffed
martin Apr 2018
A sharp well-directed blow and
the hollow cranium disintegrates into shards

Each fragment is dealt with
then the whole body is efficiently disposed of

Bye bye Easter bunny
Mar 2018 · 379
Next time I go to the ocean
martin Mar 2018
Next time I go to the ocean
I will see you there
Your voice will calm the restless waves
The wind will play with your hair

The sand will accept our footprints
Our steps will be in time
Our gaze will scan the horizon
Your hand will be in mine

And when we are tired we will turn for home
The light will fade at the end of the day
We'll leave our footprints on the beach
And the tide will wash them away
Feb 2018 · 369
Strangled
martin Feb 2018
If you waken me from sleep
Gently call my name
I've been away and I have changed
Things are not the same

If you waken me from sleep
Don't pull my toe like before
I've been to war and seen too much
I can't be playful any more

If you waken me from sleep
Don't raise your voice or pull the sheet
Remember I go back at night
Back where I can't hide

She went to waken him from sleep
She didn't call his name
She pulled his toe like before
She thought things were the same
ptsd vietnam
Feb 2018 · 985
Valentine
martin Feb 2018
At this time of year Winter's grip is left behind
In every corner little signs of Spring we find
Birds are pairing up, snowdrops brave the chill
Life in the earth begins to stir
And yes, I love you still
re-post
Feb 2018 · 402
The old soldier
martin Feb 2018
He used to man a machine gun
But now it was years since the war
When he'd fought for King and country
In the mud and the blood and the gore

How many Bosche did you **** they would ask
In his understated way
He'd say I must have got several
Not many got away

Sometimes on a Saturday night
Down at the Hart with a beer
It all came back to him like a wave
He'd stand and stare and stare

Then he was gripping his gun again
It was like he'd suddenly snapped
With his back to the wall he'd be shouting
Rat a tat, rat a tat tat

After a while he'd go quiet
Finish his drink alone
Darts flew again, cards were dealt
The old soldier walked back home
Jan 2018 · 1.0k
like a poet
martin Jan 2018
If you think the moon has a soul
And the trees are whispering your name
If you can feel the pulse of a mountain
And see advancing armies in the clouds
Start writing, you're thinking like a poet
Dec 2017 · 247
£. s. d.
martin Dec 2017
When it comes to matters financial
we all need an ounce of sense
They say a fool is very soon stripped
of his pounds shillings and pence

And if we borrow we have to be sure
we can pay back what has been lent
or else we get in a muddle
with our pounds shillings and pence

Diddlers thieves and con men
can cause us immense expense
so don't let them get their ***** hands
on your pounds shillings and pence

We come into the world with nothing
with nothing away we are sent
but in between it's handy to have
some pounds shillings and pence
Oct 2017 · 863
Vegable man
martin Oct 2017
I met a man with a bean moustache
All I could think of saying was Gosh!
You have got a bean moustache
Then he grew a green bean beard
Which everyone thought was very weird
But can you guess, he didn't stop there
Next he grew asparagus hair;
With compost in his cauliflower ears
He grew potatoes for years and years;
Out of his pockets sprouted leaves
And strawberry plants grew in his sleeves
Then much to even his surprise
His brain turned to cabbage,
Which sadly led to his rapid demise
messing around with my grandson
Sep 2017 · 1.6k
the power of poetry
martin Sep 2017
here can lay the power
if you are receptive,
to let you see the world
from a new perspective

it can be the filling
or icing on the cake,
send you off to peaceful sleep
or keep you wide awake

it can liberate your thoughts
from a recess dark and deep,
make a poor man rich
or help a mute to speak

by your side all the time
like a faithful friend
it can stay with you
to the very end
Jul 2017 · 523
In a country churchyard
martin Jul 2017
In a country churchyard
Near the shade of a yew
That's where I'll be resting
And you will be there too

We'll be long past caring
Or fussing over things
We'll be admiring angels
And their gorgeous wings

Just reach out your hand
And I will reach out mine
As in life, together always
Traveling through time
My parents are 91 and 92.
I recently took them to their
reserved plot in a country
churchyard .
Jul 2017 · 112
crack
martin Jul 2017
Disconcerting
but somehow
comforting  to
know that even
the most successful,
talented and celebrated
individuals can at times
lack self-confidence and
experience feelings of
worthlessness.
martin Jun 2017
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of summer shines;
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade'
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
       So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
       So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
that fair thou ow'st; the beauty that is yours
thou wand'rest; you wander
May 2017 · 527
Open mike night
martin May 2017
I sip at my beer in gentle fright
At the local community open-mike night
Never done this thing before
How it would go I wasn't too sure

My turn came soon, I think is this wise?
My casual air a thin disguise
Get close to the mike, speak slow and clear
They won't understand if they can't hear

I reel off the poems
They laugh and they clap
So in a month's time
Perhaps I'll go back...
last night

Tell us about your open-mike experiences.
martin May 2017
She's planting out her window box
Young shoots are showing through
She thinks about the Springtime
And the garden she once knew

There were primroses and daffodils
Sweet violets white and blue
She thinks about her husband
And when their love was new

Buds and blooms open up
They scent and colour Summer long
She thinks about those happy days
When they were young and strong

Sunset's falling sooner now
Petals drop, the show is done
She gathers up her Winter shawl
Tries not to dwell on things to come
Delighted to be the daily
Thank you He Po
And thank you Eli Yo
Mar 2017 · 1.1k
xXx
martin Mar 2017
***
Nothing you write
is yours alone
every word
borrowed
on loan
only from you
comes some wit
to decide the order
in which they are writ
Mar 2017 · 559
Job done
martin Mar 2017
As a sideline my old boss used to deliver firewood.
One regular's dog always bit his heels as he carried
the heavy sacks down the path. Complaints to the
owner fell on deaf ears so one day he  ''accidentally''
dropped a sack on it.

After that it dived under the sofa every time there was a
delivery and the customer never worked out what happened.
I like to write down these memories partly to show how attitudes have changed over the generations.  I was quite shocked when he told me, he could have killed it!  But I had a chuckle too.
Mar 2017 · 1.2k
Mary from the dairy
martin Mar 2017
If everything is going wrong
And your mood is blue
See Mary in the dairy
She'll put things right for you

If rain has soaked you to the skin
Your horse has lost a shoe
Mary in the dairy
She's the one for you

She'll nip your tuck
And tip your buck
Bust your boomaroo
Riddle down your bibble-up
Make you feel like new

She'll sum you up with one look
Remember what I say
She can read you like a book
Brighten up your day
Mar 2017 · 955
Nissan leaf
martin Mar 2017
She rolled her brand new electric car.
Well she was aiming to turn over a new leaf.
How did they come up with the name?
'We have to get it across that this is a green car. Who's got a good name for it? Come on guys, what's green?'
'A leaf.'
'Brilliant, brilliant, the Nissan leaf!'
Feb 2017 · 1.4k
Start again
martin Feb 2017
If life is writ in indelible ink
A change is required I think
We'll use a pencil not a pen
Rub it out and start again
words are cheap
nay they're free
fill your boots
at Hp
martin Feb 2017
On the side of the country lane a wooden post holds a sign indicating the route of a public footpath. Hardly a mile goes by without passing another one, maybe more. They don't stand out, so common they hardly register as we motor by. Some of us have explored where they lead, others have not.

Some follow hedgerows, ditches; others strike across open fields. Wherever they are, the landowner has a legal obligation to allow free unhindered public access. Growing crops must be cut or sprayed to keep paths clear.

Many of these paths were formed by country folk walking to church, work or market, taking the shortest route across the fields. In 1948 they were recognised and given legal status on the definitive map.

Close to villages the paths are well used. In more remote areas some are barely walked from one year to the next. Even so, they are still legal rights of way.

The celebrated fell wanderer Alfred Wainwright put together his famous Coast to Coast walk by connecting existing rights of way to form a continuous route from the Atlantic to the North Sea, passing through three National Parks.

Almost a kind of accident of history, the footpath network is now a National Treasure.
Feb 2017 · 1.5k
Rosene, a song
martin Feb 2017
I was just a lonely boy
And always had I been
The world became a kinder place
When first I met Rosene

She had the most enchanting smile
That I had ever seen
My heart jumped like a salmon's leap
When I first loved Rosene

We lived together many years
That now seem like a dream
Our children grew and then they flew
To tend their pastures green

She fought as hard as she could fight
But fate was cruel and mean
The world became a poorer place
The day it lost Rosene
Jan 2017 · 2.2k
10 words - gone
martin Jan 2017
morphine took charge
night came on
and turned into mourning
martin Jan 2017
Slumping back in your chair
You hardly move your head
Gazing straight ahead you look
Like the living dead

Your feet are swollen like balloons
With little piggy toes
How you stayed alive this long
Heaven only knows

Your belly looks as though
It's about to pop
You're looking nine months pregnant
And about to drop

I'm sure you're very clever
But hardly very wise
When's the last time
You took some exercise?
Thought it but didn't say it.
Jan 2017 · 764
the sweat box
martin Jan 2017
We all do time in the sweat box
At some point in our lives
The desperate, desperate sweat box
Where we're crucified

It's part of living, part of life
A right of passage, must be done
If you've not been in the sweat box
You've got it still to come
Dec 2016 · 944
Slipped away
martin Dec 2016
I feel the grief, I share the pain
Who would have thought that loss
Would wash up on our shores again

You slipped away
Did you say goodbye?
We'll miss you and remember
The times you made us laugh
And cry

I'll listen for your voice
Gently by my side
And know you only fell asleep
As we all do by and by
Leonard, David, George, Prince, and so many others this year.
Dec 2016 · 812
Made me sweat first
martin Dec 2016
Back in the old days before combine harvesters came in, harvest time was much more labour intensive.  All the crops were loaded by hand on to horse-drawn carts and taken to the stack yard, where an array of often beautifully crafted stacks would be built, and thatched.

It was a very busy time of the year for the thatchers, who would work from six in the morning till nine at night for several weeks until all the stacks were safely protected from the rain. After the last stack was finished, my old boss was paid the overtime due to him. He remembered that one year it was just enough to buy himself a new pair of work boots!

One year, before handing over payment for thatching his stacks, a farmer named Mr Cutting said to Jim;  "That made me sweat to write your cheque this year."  Jim quickly replied;  "Med me sweat fust!"
There are lots of cottages built in old stack yards called Pyghtle Cottage as pyghtle, pronounced pie-cle is an old Anglo Saxon word meaning a small plot of land.
Dec 2016 · 1.9k
Malala
martin Dec 2016
One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world.

I raise up my voice -- not so that I can shout, but so that those without a voice can be heard.

Malala Yousafzai

Such wisdom from one so young
Such clarity for the truth
Such bravery in the face of danger

Dare we place upon these shoulders
the heavy burden of hope, expectation?

Already your name will live for ever
Dec 2016 · 915
crooked spire
martin Dec 2016
Have you seen the twisted spire?
It is a sight you will admire

They say 'twas when a lass was wed
When not a ****** to altar led

And that one day it will straighten anew
When one there marries a maiden true
The church of St Mary and All Saints in Chesterfield has a twisted spire.
It was originally thought that unseasoned timber used in its construction was the reason, but now the theory is that the lead used to clad the structure expands at a different rate on the sunny side from the cold side, thus pulling it out of true. The spire was constructed in 1362. It twists 45 degrees and is 9ft 6ins off the vertical, quite an eye-catching landmark and easily visible from the train.
Google Chesterfield spire.
Nov 2016 · 5.9k
smooth way
martin Nov 2016
Some things are simply understood
Without the need for spoken word
Others better said out loud
So they may be heard

Some thoughts are better unexposed
So not to harm the atmosphere
Others need to fly and soar
To land on lover's waiting ear

Hold the tongue, bite the lip
Let not insults from it trip
But compliments that smooth the way
Let them see the light of day
Really pleased to be the daily.
Thanks to all for reading,
what a great site we enjoy here at hellopoetry.
Nov 2016 · 999
Overheard in a Suffolk pub
martin Nov 2016
I come on me bike tonight,
Blast bor,
That wind were agin me the whole blinkin way
I wholey hoop that change afore I goo hoom agin.
Nov 2016 · 792
Hard cheddar
martin Nov 2016
We're all in a bit of a pickle
All in a bit of a jam
We'd like our cake and eat it too
If we possibly can

We'd like to take the biscuit
The icing on the cake
But for now it's hard cheddar
We'll just have to wait
Oct 2016 · 402
Vegas haiku
martin Oct 2016
Welcome to Vegas
Lasers shining at the moon
Gilding the lily
to be possess'd with double pomp,
To guard a title that was rich before,
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the bounteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

Shakespeare, King John
Oct 2016 · 1.3k
Bush Cottage
martin Oct 2016
A bumpy track led to the old cottage. The place hadn't been lived in for quite a while but was intact, a perfect timber-framed Tudor cottage. Even the old thatch didn't leak. Just two rooms downstairs with a small lean-to on the back, the kitchen still had a Dutch oven and an old copper for hot water. A kite-winder staircase followed the central chimney up to two bedrooms.

The place was coming up for auction. Desperately I wanted it. At the auction it made four times what I could afford. The buyer did not move in however. There was a story about him being in prison. At this time the farmers used to dispose of waste straw after combining by burning it in the fields, a practice now banned. That's how the thatch caught alight. There was no attempt to fight the fire because no-one even noticed it. Gales later blew in the gable ends, then the chimney crumbled, brambles grew over it until there was hardly a visible trace of the place left.

I wish I could have saved it. It would have been beautiful. Instead I bought a little terrace, then a detached needing renovation, then the one we have today. I got what I wanted eventually, but I still think about that old place sometimes, and how I wanted it.
Sep 2016 · 750
morning walk
martin Sep 2016
I met my neighbour ths morning so I asked him how he was.

Oh fine, yes we're fine thank you. And how are you both?

I said you should go to Specsavers mate, there's only one of me.
oh well
it made me laugh
Jul 2016 · 460
necessary (10 words)
martin Jul 2016
-Necessities to agree-

-Something for you-

-And something-

for me!
Jun 2016 · 1.0k
Library books and girls
martin Jun 2016
He picks them up at random
Takes them out
Becomes engrossed in one
Then the next

Finished with them
He dumps them back
Where he found them
A little worse for wear
Jun 2016 · 573
A Match with the Moon
martin Jun 2016
Weary already, weary miles to-night
I walked for bed: and so, to get some ease,
I dogged the flying moon with similes.
And like a wisp she doubled on my sight
In ponds; and caught in tree-tops like a kite;
And in a globe of film all liquorish
Swam full-faced like a silly silver fish; -
Last like a bubble shot the welkin's height
Where my road turned, and got behind me, and sent
My wizened shadow craning round at me,
And jeered, ' So, step the measure, - one, two, three! '
And if I faced her, looked innocent.
But just at parting, halfway down a dell,
She kissed me for good-night. So you'll not tell.
by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
(1828-82)
Jun 2016 · 983
dreams (10 words)
martin Jun 2016
never
abandon
your dreams
and

they
will never
abandon
you
May 2016 · 761
Mr Average
martin May 2016
He bought his house at an average price
And lives there with his average wife
In his average car with average miles
He ferries around his average child

He'll be the first to admit
His labrador is average thick
In an average job he's kind of stuck
He used to smoke and then he gave up

His average cat has an average tail
Through his door flies average mail
Occasionally he does aspire
To something grander, something higher

But average suits him quite alright
In fact it's really rather nice
I saw a TV programme about a racehorse that won everything. When it died they measured its organs and bones and found nothing exceptional. All measurements were absolutely average. So average is good!
May 2016 · 755
Wide East Anglian skies
martin May 2016
We follow the bridleway that dissects the growing field of wheat, now dark green and vigorous after it's Spring dose of nitrogen. Pass the smouldering ruin of a bonfire which has been awaiting the torch for weeks. Charred black are two big sections of oak trunk which I considered purloining every time I passed, but decided they looked too heavy to move.

Reach the road, rein in the dog's lead, turn right. The thatch I renewed a few years back is definitely not looking new any more. Past the houses, past the one where the whistler lives. All the way across the wide East Anglian field I often hear him trilling, when we are both pottering in our gardens. He has a brick outhouse, probably a former loo or wash house. A thrush is sitting on top of the chimney and a blackbird on the weather vane, they look about four feet apart. I pick up a lager can, crush it and slip it in my back pocket. A pigeon climbs, claps its wings and glides back down. Jogger's footsteps catch up from behind. It's the chap who owns a Harley Davidson. When I told him it was a nice bike but not to my taste he took offence and now he totally ignores me. So I think he's weird (which I suspected anyway) and he feels insulted I presume. So the main purpose of the Harley is to impress, I guess?

I turn back into our lane, a skylark is singing loud and clear above us to the left. A rabbit dashes across the lane a few yards ahead, disappears. The dog's ears go straight up and he eagerly sniffs its trail. Back home.
May 2016 · 502
cannon ball
martin May 2016
When she wants something
She can be quite determined
My wife
She wanted to be a human cannon ball
So I watched from a safe distance
A double-decker bus
Roof removed
Filled with water
Had been provided to land in
With a splash
She missed and landed with a crunch
I knew it was a bad idea
Do you dream funny?
May 2016 · 491
Viv
martin May 2016
Viv
She's our women who does
so she is
here once a week
her name is Viv
she sweeps the floor
washes the tiles
arranges the papers in neat little piles
flicks a duster across a few things
breaks a saucer
and gently places it into the bin
May 2016 · 856
girl haiku
martin May 2016
flower in her hair
her body she shares with you
hold her she blossoms
May 2016 · 500
Spring garden haiku
martin May 2016
growth abundance now
woven mass of green and green
watercolour looks
Apr 2016 · 477
stardust
martin Apr 2016
every wheel will cease to turn
every lesson be unlearned
every tide will ebb away
every colour fade to grey

every truth will prove a lie
every star burn and die
we will all be flying high
stardust in the sky
martin Apr 2016
There was not much to do down at the zoo
They were all getting bored, wouldn't you?
The keeper was called, we're out of our minds
Help us out, if you'd be so kind

The keeper said, so what can I do?
I'd like to help but give me a clue

Well, said the giraffe it may sound daft
But I've always wanted to play the harp
You know what,  said the baboon
I would like a big bassoon
The emu said, I really do feel
A hankering after a glockenspiel
The lemur requested a violin
Certain he'd coax a tune from the thing
The elephants stood all in line
Already they could trumpet in time
The gorilla said he could use his thumb
To bang away on a big bass drum

They all got their wish, it was quite a scene
And proudly they played God Save the Queen
Happy 90th birthday to our lovely Queen
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