Best Martin Poems
it was the sixties
we were young
we were going to change the world
spin it like a basketball on our finger
take the three point shot
win the game
we had great leaders
john, robert, martin...
the planet was singing
with the purity of a four year old
...
The ants go marching two by two;
The little one stops to tie his shoe,
...
then
it started raining bullets
our optimism soured
slightly at first
and the grassy knoll
and the sniper
and the magic bullet
john was shot
jackie squirmed
we sat on the edge of our seats
The ants go marching four by four;
The little one stops to shut the door,
John F. Kennedy was assassinated
The ants go marching five by five;
The little one stops to take a dive,
years had passed, five
look before you dive
the civil rights movement gathered
to fight for their God given rights
the right to be treated as humans
exactly that...humans...no more no less.
to listen to the man who had said
"Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon
which cuts without wounding and ennobles
the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals."
the man who stood on the hill speaking
"I have a dream today!"
The ants go marching seven by seven;
The little one stops to pray to heaven,
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Martin Luther King Jr. was shot
died
and my God it rained
it rained salt
as a nation black and white cried
The ants go marching nine by nine;
The little one stops to check the time,
time for the rise of Bobby
Hoorah! Hoorah!
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
i wish he could have ran faster than the bullets
they murdered John's brother
Robert F. Kennedy was dead
the sixties where almost finished
and i wondered
if the world would ever be the same
again
I marched away buried my face into the ground
To get out of my pain.
great leaders lost
words that radiated
radiate hope
America was
the envy of the world
it's two thousand sixteen
and we have sunk so deep into the dirt
i know we can't Trump this disaster
have you ever heard of fools gold
we have a choice
our lives count
remember the ants
nature's banner is blowing in the wind
don't make
the little one shout
"THE END!!"
March 16 2016
armand
Words would fail me if I might assay
To articulate the courage of this man.
The numerous facets of his dossier
Are subject for song in a distant land.
Awakened in youth from serene dreams
By the melodious blast of Israel’s horn.
Tall standing received earth’s esteems,
Accepting God’s charge wherefore he was born.
His marble image cleaves the bluest sky,
And his halo is now a crown about his brow.
His peace of mind earth can no longer deny,
For he has now fulfilled his earthly vow.
It can only suppose with the midnight of the mind,
What may be reason’s welcome morning star.
One day he may return even more divine,
With a holier task from God who reigns from afar.
There’s no thunder heard from Sinai’s height,
And we see no parting waves at Jordan’s bank.
We have followed no truer soldier in our darkest night,
And now are marching on bravely in file and rank.
Rolling on in faith toward the welcome dawn,
The good fight won he’s earned the honor of Moses.
Now trekking the soul’s desert to the divine throne,
He follows God’s light up the street of yellow roses.
Daddy somebody shot that man
I heard this eleven year old say
I didn't really understand at the time
I just knew a man was dead
But with the years that followed
I came to learn how much he meant
To this world in its great need
And how well that time was spent
He preached of equality he preached of peace
As he spoke of man as one
He marched his way down city streets
Facing adversity with the face of love
He was done with all the hatred
That fills so many lives
To him color was a vision
Of equality in his eyes
A life so young a life cut short
By the wicked in us all
Will you stand with me and follow him
Will you heed his righteous call
To call every man your brother
The way Martin Luther King Jr. did
To keep the vision of this visionary alive
A reality in which all mankind should live
I was that eleven year old boy so many years ago and still remember that moment I heard and told my father the news...
We even visited the tragic site where this great man lost his life that day in Memphis. The thing is he knew his days were numbered but refused to give up on equality for all people...
Happy Birthday my friend, my hero...long live your memory.
Why can’t we be judged by the content of our character?
Are we now racist, because of white privilege and black lives matter?
This is our new wall, racism is still dividing,
these two profound statements are creating bitter chatter.
Dr. King lost his life because of his dream in 63,
segregation is what this great man envisioned would one day leave.
The architects of our Republic intended all men to be free,
our declaration of independence is what we now need to believe.
As a people we need to remember, all of our positive achievements,
we need to move forward and continue to gain ground.
We need to focus on life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
We are all created equal, this evident truth has got to be found.
We all need to sit down at the table of brotherhood.
Everything we do right now, needs to be done together.
We need to erase all of our anger and live here as one people
if we join our hearts, there is no storm we can’t weather.
August 7,2020
*inspired by Dr. Martin Luther Kings I Have A Dream speech*
Strand Completely New (19) Any form, Any Theme Poetry Contest
Come back Martin, come back.
If there is any way please come back, quickly.
We need your words of Utopia,
your powerful metaphors of brotherhood.
Freedom is not the object.
Everyone is free, too free,
free to do as they please
even if it means, take a life.
People die every day in
the streets of the city
the schoolyards
the workplaces
the highways
gunned down, just like you.
Madmen rule the world
playing with it like marbles and badly need wisdom.
Come back Martin, come back
and bring Mahatma too.
10/17/18
Get me inside quickly and as fast as you can,
please turn the time travel dial to September 1963
Get me to a post office in Washington, D.C.,
so I can send an important letter to Jacque Kennedy.
The letter will tell her about her newest son, Patrick,
ahead of time I will give her his four pound birth weight.
To prove I am ahead, and I know what I am talking about,
I will tell her about my time travel, and warn her of the fate
And that her husband, President John F. Kennedy
is in grave danger, warn her on November 23rd, 1963,
If she lets him go to Dallas and ride in an open limousine,
he will be assassinated at her knee.
Trip number two, will bring me to February 1968,
but I will stay in the same post office. Here is the thing.
I will write a detailed letter to Coretta Scott King,
warning her about the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King.
To prove that I am reliable I will tell her that January 30th,
1956 is the day a bomb
will go off on her porch, but it will not hurt anyone.
After a little sandwich, and a drink in a cold fountain,
I will now dial up August 14th, 1969, and head to the
Catskill Mountains,
It will be splendid to be the first to arrive,
At Woodstock, a day ahead of the crowd
of 400, 000, now I am feeling truly alive.
I will be civil, not puffed up or proud.
I will spend three glorious days enjoying the music here,
enjoying the hip-hugging bell-bottoms, dairy cows, staying clear
of the bra-less women and the minds that are a bit unclear.
My last trip is easy. I will return to two days ago, and from breakfast
re-do that entire day.
I was pretty mean to my husband,
and I would like to stop myself from acting that way.
From the grounds of the south during the sweltering summer
of Negros in America*, came white violence and murder. The
suppression and degradation of decades. Americans treated
as less then a dog because they were not of a certain color.
For a country founded on “All Men are Created Equal” it is not
The truth or reality for many. When a voice came from angels
Dancing above, of a man with purpose and of dignity, standing
Strong in the body of Martin Luther King Jr. He walked degraded
ghetto streets with others of his purpose. From the steps of Abraham
rang out his voice in glory. His Dream, Our Dream. His Courage
became our Courage. From Rosa Parks to black student protests
to sit ins, marches and songs. John F. Kennedy, little black girls
and Lynden Johnson. A peaceful fight for civil rights was taken
to the White House ~ they won. Then the angels wept when
Martin was gunned down in the middle of our dream. His
Dream is not lost. He sings angels’ home, a warrior’s
call to Rise again in peaceful dissent. The white robes
of little minds are on the rise against civility. Angels
danced when he was born but we cannot dance yet….
gentle minister
freedom, peace, equality
born to show a dream
written 8-21-2019
for PS Contest:
Write a new haibun on the theme:
"Angels danced the day you were born
and they wept when they welcomed you home"
We flip through one hundred and eighteen glossy pages of magazine people.
None we know.
Wait! Was that Dean Martin?
A throwback to the 60’s.
False alarm.
One more page of people we do not know.
Why do we take these magazines? We ask each other.
We do not KNOW any of these people.
Maybe this is the best reason of all.
Man has lived a hard life
While trying to live free
Voting and living in fine
Houses never intended to be
Somehow treated badly while
Others took away their families
Rosa Parks wanted her rights
In Montgomery Alabama
God knew the struggle that
Man always endured in life
Beating half to death
And crying in the night
They took away their daughters
And used them to satisfy lust
The only way to survive is
To do what they must
Many long years have passed
And many rivers they crossed
Some of them were saved
But most of them were lost
Abraham Lincoln through
God he freed the slaves
But somehow along the way
They lost a lot of braves
With his headquarters in
Atlanta Georgia arose
Dr. King
Now they can began
To let freedom ring
With the dream that he had
To unite every nation together
So their children could walk
Hand-in-hand in a land
He tried to make better
Dr. King spoke of peace
Didn't believe in a gun or knife
He wanted freedom for everyone
To live a better life
His dreams foresees
All nations of children walking
Hand in hand
A better future, a better life
Was always Dr. King’s plan
He said I've been to the mountain top
And I've viewed the promise land
I may not get there with you
For this is God’s plan
I don’t want you to cry or
Mention the honors that I received
But speak of how I've helped this
Nation and tried to supply their needs
Like most people, Dr. King
Wanted to live a long life
He knew he had to work swiftly
To win this holy fight
January 15, 1929 marks the
Birth of a righteous man
April 4, 1968 he was
Taken from this land
A single shot, a life have fallen
And taken from his family
He believed in the movement
That started in Alabama
Because of his dream for
Everyone in this world
He willingly gave his life
And wanted every nation
To seek peace,
And try hard to love
Now we look back at all
The struggles of Dr. King
And we see a somewhat better nation
Because of this man’s Dream!!!
Born to lead; born to inspire
Words he spoke proven true
Of steadfast mind he did aspire
Burdens cast held like glue
Humble of spirit; plead his cause
Violence and hate; he abhorred
Though scorned by men he bore his cross
Path of peace he adored
His heart whispered a time of “doom”
Guiltless blood was required
Dark days peaked, his hour to come soon
Stars revealed fate’s desire
Quiet moments of dismal sorrow
Dreams did convey courage
Death would bring better tomorrows
Judas’s choice fetched the rage
History keeps the dreadful date
When he died good had won
Evil stirred bowl of hate
But see what death begun
~*~
~*~
By Annalise
Note For Craig's "Historical Modified Quatrain" Contest
01/31/13
Doctor Martin Luther King Junior
a black man from Atlanta, Georgia.
An activist and visionary
he spoke against racial injustice.
This Nobel Prize-winning man of peace
preached tolerance and non-violence.
Challenging bigotries and hatred
he marched against discrimination.
He struck a match against ignorance,
lighting liberty's torch for freedom.
And boldly opposed segregation,
standing up to white America.
His public-speaking abilities
both enraged his foes and won him friends.
And government bigots denounced him
as a dangerous agitator.
A pacifist, he shared his dream of
whites and blacks united in friendship.
Unshackled from the past, free at last,
"thank The Lord All Mighty, free at last."
His light refused to be extinguished
when James Earl Ray shot him in Memphis.
And now his life is celebrated
each year, on Martin Luther King day.
(Blank Verse)
11/14/2017
Two lifetimes I have seen since yours began
and still I am not free, though haunted by
your words, blood-coated with your passion,
seeped into a history of marching feet.
The cadence of the years still cannot stand
their purity, and you, baton still high,
drum major for a righteousness you saw
that lived in dreams--
still march...and I cannot.
It's best you died, perhaps, for you
would not abide another line of voters
kept out in the rain,
their voices slain by fraud and perfidy,
their backs still open to the lash of scorn,
and scarce remembering the wounds
that you received when all you asked for
was to love.
That loving didn't get much easier
around this shrinking ball, disfigured from
a restless floor beneath the sea, and for
a while the human heart was stirred,
but more had died from restless greed
and naked power when love was set aside.
There's not much zeal for marching now
along the streets of Washington,
and bigotry is steeped inside.
We need to hear your dream again,
to have you sing with us once more,
to promise us that we shall overcome
someday.
~
Martin Luther King, Jr.
When innocent dies,
Whole universe cries,
Even of dear earth,
We can hear, outcries,
But selfish human being,
Never even sighs.
All rights are reserved. Syed Imon Rizvi
From a book "Outspoken" - 2012
Available at www.amazon.com
We raised gourd houses for the Purple Martin
Atop a pole, against a fluid sky
Where late jet thunder spews
A raid cloud--ambitious wonder.
Intense, our Southern sky, like old dreams
Harbors a night's Aeolian pine,
A day's jonquil in oxblood sod
And simmering heat enchanting jejune asphalt.
But room lies yet in sanctuary swamps
For thinning fox grape, hawk and mockingbird..
One idea away from a maze of pipe and brick
On hunger's soulless map.
Martin & Connie
Martin and Connie had five beautiful daughters and then she
found out from her Doctor that she had another baby on the way,
but how would she tell Martin of her great news she thought
for he is coming home from work at the end of this day.
So when the girls were put to bed and the house had quieted down
she knelt down on the floor at his feet,
shyly and timidly she told him the news of the baby
but noticed he wasn’t happy and had started grinding his teeth.
Then Martin began to stomp his feet and to holler
demanding that she abort this new coming babe,
putting such fear in Connie until she determined in her heart
she and the girls would suddenly have to flee.
The next day when Martin left for work
she packed up her girls and fled their nice home,
running away with her babies to her family’s farm
until the new baby was born and safe from harm and all alarms.
The new baby that was born
was a healthy big baby boy which was exactly what Martin had longed for,
but Connie kept the birth a secret from him until
he called to talk to her dad and other members of their tight knit core.
When Martin was told that the child was a big baby boy
and he fell in repentance on his knees,
asking the Lord for forgiveness with all of his heart
and for giving him Connie, his girls and his son and for supplying all of their needs.
Written by:
Marilyn S. Jennings May 7, 2015