Best Terrell Poems
Someone near and dear to me
Has a child with Downs Syndrome,
Who, more often than not
Is beyond difficult to control.
The little boy is six years old
But acts as if he’s two,
He can’t speak at all, just yells a lot
Throwing wild tantrums until he’s blue.
He likes throwing things around
As if everything’s a toy,
And has difficulty distinguishing
Between bad behavior and pure, ecstatic joy.
(And his mother is a nervous wreck,
always picking up after the boy).
His fingers are his eyes at times
As textures are his friends,
If he doesn’t like the way it feels
He won’t go there again.
And he likes to lay down on the ground
Balling up like a boulder,
Until someone comes to pick him up
While he gives them his cold shoulder.
It’s difficult to fully describe
All the nuances of this child,
The range of his emotions
From anger and sadness to his beautiful, blissful smile.
(And his mother is a nervous wreck,
walking many lonely miles).
They wonder about his future
And those around him always near,
And wonder how much happiness
Will follow him through the years.
Will he learn to play an instrument
Or dance and sing a song,
Is it possible he will marry someday
Will true love come along?
Will he find friends who will love him
And treat him sweet and kind,
Or only those who will shun him
And close him off like blinds.
(And his mother is a nervous wreck,
And losing her own mind.
His mother is a nervous wreck
And loves him
All the time).
© Terrell Martin, 02/26/2025
To all the poets near and far
Alive and well or beyond the stars,
I bid you peace, I bid you rest,
I bid you all the very best.
Life and death may er’ contain
All the fruits of love and rain,
Showered down upon you all:
Promethean poets, great and small.
Long before we learned to write
But felt inside that burning light,
To share all thoughts, hopes, sadness, dreams
Propitious poets bear it all it seems.
From long ago and far away
And right up through this very day,
Countless came and left their mark
And we too, shall make a lasting spark.
Perhaps a mere morsel, a line or two
That lands upon a mind imbued,
With someone who like you or me
Finds sublimity in words like these.
Though words are not real things we touch
Like rivers, rocks, seashells and such,
But point the way back deep inside
Where memories last and love abides.
But I for one am smaller yet
Then everyone I’ve ever met,
Who picked up paper, pen or quill
And found their calling in the still
Of quiet nights and early morns
Waiting for ideas unborn,
From spirits sweet and dewdrops soft
I bid you all good thoughts aloft.
© Terrell Martin, 02/21/2025
Emotions diverse
'pon reading your verse
laughing and crying spontaneous
face a-beaming
tears a-streaming
joyful and sad smile-utaneous
My head is swollen
my heart all but stolen
wending across the vast pond
may stars shine my smiles
on you o'er the miles
of whom I'm mutually fond
I'm honored; moreover
positively bowled over
by your verse with acumen penned
of untold pleasure
your writ I will treasure
crack poet and much-cherished friend
TO TERRELL MARTIN, A WORDSMYTHE OF NOTE
I don’t know how I lived so long
without poetry by my side
to uphold enfold and console me
as time went passing by
how did I miss the gentle kiss
of rhythms all around
the sound of rivers rushing
and rolling tides with waves unbound
the chirping birds whose secret words
were music nonetheless
even though I did not sense
the Whole-iness of being blessed
nor did I see the unity
between poetry and the stars
always missing the meaning
of whom and what we truly are
the miracle of miracles
why anything is here at all
was supremely overwhelming
for a man like me so small
nor did I hear the Sound of the Spheres
Homer’s Odyssey or Tennyson’s Light Brigade
was never too clear with Shelly and Shakespear
and the mystical magic they made
while metaphors and similes
enjambment and free verse
were all just mumbo-jumbo
to me one giant curse
but slowly and imperceptively
I felt a change within
as words became more meaningful
and a strange new kind of friend
and it took a while to learn to smile
on a haiku in the woods
but time’s been kind and let me find
rhythm and peace inside
my poetry and manhood
© Terrell Martin, 02/26/2025
The winter snow and freeze killed everything
I planted in the spring,
Rhododendrons, roses, Hawaii hibiscus
And the bougainvillea orange king.
Parsley, sage and thyme are gone,
Peony and pansies too,
The daisies died and I still sigh
For the loss of primrose blue.
No more azaleas or alyssum,
Passionflower or peppermint,
The coleus did not last nor sassafras,
And goodbye to rosemary’s scent.
And all the leaves on the lemon tree
Look more like a weeping willow,
Sagging sadly as if begging madly
To finally let her go.
But Spring is looming ‘round the bend
And new seeds await good earth,
To come alive in sun-filled skies
And signify life’s worth.
As all things come, and all must go
In a whisp of place and time,
Like flowers and plants in a cosmic dance,
The seasons of life are Sublime.
© Terrell Martin, 01/27/2025
I have this fear that beyond my years
Every word I’ve said or written will be gone,
Like dust in the wind or seas where rivers end
These thoughts of mine will vanish with the dawn.
No money or fame do I proclaim
Nor legacies of great things I have done,
No battle scars or discovered stars
Or a trace of any race I’ve lost or won.
Like most of those whose time now holds
Their words and thoughts erased,
Confetti like into the skies
I fear that wordless fate.
The dying of the poet’s dream
Of living beyond oblivion,
For someone to read these words indeed
Would save this soul from carrion.
Only time will tell if letters spell
The end of all these phrases,
Mere scribbles now that may somehow
Be read on future pages.
© Terrell Martin, 01/05/2025
Hello God, are you there?
I’ve been searching for you everywhere.
Starting out in my mother’s womb
Not very long ago,
When my life was barely beginning
Before I began to know…
Anything about you
And this world I was headed toward.
I was looking for you even then,
Perhaps so even more.
More than when I finally arrived,
The apple of my parents’ eyes
Crawling ‘round the grass and grounds
You placed down here for me,
When all I knew was sky is blue
And love was wild and free.
And as I grew tall and learned to run
I looked for you in shade and sun.
In churches, bibles, liturgies
And things I could and could not see
Like ocean waves and winds that scatter,
Poetry, symmetry and thoughts that matter.
And this idea of independence
And freedom from tyranny,
The pursuit of happiness, truth and justice
And the bounties that they bring.
And other things we take for granted
Like cats, dogs, frogs and birds,
Rivers flowing, flowers growing
And every song and kind of music played and heard.
While I never gave up and never let down
My search for You through cities and towns.
From tiny islands in the old gulf stream
To highlands and by lands
From Mount Olympus to New Orleans.
And continued my search with purpose and worth
In libraries filled with books
Of countless pages throughout the ages
How others thought you might look.
And if you are real, you know how I feel
About the majesty of Your creation.
Planets, stars and the universe writ large,
Consciousness, curiosity and causation.
From the first thinking man who was able to plan
His future among all things,
While looking for You just as I do
In places where he once lived and dreamed…
Down in the bogs and bayous
Where cypress trees grow tall,
And on the moon and Mars and in honky-tonk bars
And leaves turning colors in the fall.
And in the hearts and minds of others
And the catchlight in their eyes,
Hoping I might find you there,
In their laughter and their hope-filled cries.
Even now I’m still seeking and wondering
If you can hear my plea within,
I pray dear God if we’re not at odds:
Will I find You in the end?
© Terrell Martin, 01/29/2025
Too many days I’ve watched you from afar
And carried you like feathers all around
More lovely than the light from distant stars
And soft as flower petals scattered ‘round.
And saw you as someone who just might be
Still looking for more love somewhere inside
The mirror image of someone like me
To lift you up and spread your wings to fly.
And free you from your dismal prison cage
Where time was torture of the fiendish kind
Until you saw the light of love one day
In the eyes of another soul like mine.
No longer must we walk this earth alone
With you, dear love I know I’m always home.
© Terrell Martin, 02/25/2025
I often wonder if it’s worth the effort
with a keyboard or paper and pen
to pour out my thoughts, heart, mind and soul
from the ocean and rivers within
The marrow in my bones
hidden deep within these veins
“This universe is a miracle,”
I’ve heard Einstein once proclaimed
Though admittedly, I’m not near his kind
(far beyond my likes, by stars)
I merely try to follow those
I think know where they are
A few more miles ahead of time
“Out yonder,” my dad would say
where I can only dream of writing
a splendorous sonnet someday
Or perchance a valediction poem
a goodbye to the past
or my rendition of a benediction
thanking Hymn for all the love that lasts
And open a few doors with some metaphors
enjambment or anapest
find inspiration from alliteration
while striving towards my best
Thus, here I rest in the morning air
inhaling hope, exhaling despair
as birds fly bye and gentle winds blow
and pray more thoughts of beauty will flow
© Terrell Martin, 02/25/2025
Spring Cleaning
Closet doors open,
Sweeper to adjust,
Housecleaning today,
Yes, spring cleaning is a must.
Windows to wash,
Cabinets to clean,
Dust mallet to swish,
Even on outdoor screen.
As soon as my laziness passes,
My deeds I will again tackle,
First to by a new pair of glasses,
To attack dust again and cackle.
I haven't a magic wand,
To swish all about,
For of it I would truly be proud,
To clean more easily without a doubt.
If I were a Jennie in a bottle,
From my lamp I could clearly see,
For daily I would wiggle my nose,
And the glass it would then be clean.
Linda Terrell
Feb. 25, 2010
Gee! If only it were that easy! Hope you like my humor of cleaning tasks that I formed into
some these what rhyming verses.
Good-bye Little Debbie cakes,
Mr. HO HO, Boo hoo hoo,
Aunt Twinkie too,
I'm surely gonna miss, all of you.
Good-bye fresh bakery donuts,
Audios gravy covered steak,
Truffles with cream too,
I'm really gonna miss, all of you.
So long, Long Johns,
My scrumptious chocolate Sunday's,
Uncle French Fry too,
Be gone from my hips, all of you.
Hello almond nuts, and legume,
Water packed tuna and brother salmon too,
Greeting my low fat diet butter,
I must welcome within, all of you.
Linda Terrell
March 13, 2010
I have created poem/lyric verses for a heart-smart lifestyle to lower cholesterol as we should
all follow.
It would make an informing cheery song or silly jingle.
Cherokee spirts riding in the clouds
Cherokee winds crying out loud ( Chorus )
The Cherokee spirits whispering from far away,
Calling, Calling, Calling through the winds,
Oh the longing message it sends.
Whispering ancestors bacon all family when life ends.
Cherokee spirts free, longin again to roam
Among the lands they once called home ( Chorus )
Winds sing banchee songs bellow in the night,
Of spirits calling of their long ago fright,
All souls now weakening with out fear, all who hear
lonely hearts those left behind, Rains of loved ones sheading tears.
Cherokee spirits roaming through the clouds
Looking for lost family among the crowds ( Chorus )
So if you hear at the end of your days,
becoming banchee winds calling your name
Though you never knew your ancestors,
yet unknowlingly always obeying Cherokee way
Cherokee spirits riding on the clouds
Calling through the winds riding over the crowds. (Chorus )
Then you may be....indian Cherokee family
Once so free that roamed this land endlessly
Cherokee spirits roaming still ever so free
Calling one last time all Cherokee family
By Linda Terrell
Once upon a time in a neighborhood of Orleans
there lived a Jon Terrell among voodoo queens
we neighbors thought him eccentric, sometimes rude
but he turned out a famous, pot smoking dude
When his chance finally came for the talent he had
He won Mork and Mindy and he wasn't half bad
from there he kept rising with his new name of gold
and Jay Thomas he'll keep through years growing old
but the funniest 'Lone Ranger' made Letterman smile
so click on this link and LOL for a while
http://www.jaythomas.com/the-lone-ranger-story/#.VeRtlf-FNjo
8/31/15
The distant church bells ring
what will the new year bring
love, hope, and faith come too
as well as many dreams come true
for me and you
to many and few
Linda Terrell
I’m going down to the river today
And talk to some old friends of mine;
Sit down by the water’s edge and watch the river roll and wind.
I pray to converse in the form of free verse
With all the residents around,
Who call it their home and are rarely alone, in the air or down on the ground.
I’ll spend a few moments in reverie deep
As if on some far away plane,
Thankful to be alive and breath all the sweet air in my veins.
And bow down my head to where I’ve been led
Through all these years come and gone,
For all the triumphs, tears and woes and those once loved and now gone.
Then lift my eyes beyond blue in the skies
And praise the Maker of all things,
This river of life, the darkness and light and reasons and seasons to sing.
Then say fare thee well to this riverside spell
And sanctum of meaningful peace,
And continue to roam in search of the home, forever this soul hopes to reach.
© Terrell Martin, 01/11/2025