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Best Poems Written by Martin Braun

Below are the all-time best Martin Braun poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Soros Grinch Can'T Steal Christmas

Thankfully Socialist Santa wasn’t elected, 
because we now have a lovely wall being erected.

Given will be no free handout for the illegal masses,
and received will be no gifts of crime, drugs, and grasses.

Lights from above will twinkle from helicopters,
as tear gas will float to choke out the coughers.

Asylum seekers they surely are not,
the invaders will be rejected and never achieve the globalization they sought.

So, sleep in comfort and in peace dear little children,
Our wonderful president Trump keeps America secure and free from criminal invasion.

Our country sleeps well because the good gave a good fight,
so sleep well to all, and to all a good night.

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I Received Bad News Today, Reckoning

I Received Bad News Today, Reckoning

I received bad news today,
	Rather, the bad news I sought.
Thirty years ago, we played.
Attention turned; you walked away.
	Divorce ended, so I thought.

Love was stretched thin to forgive.
	You tried to ease me from my pain.
As friends we could never live.
Let’s start new and not relive.
	Better move on and try again.

I received bad news today,
	Rather, the bad news I sought.
I hoped you’ld be on your way.
But now I am sad to say,
	Your ambitions have all rot.

The news is not well received,
	Deep saddness from what I heard.
How will your children grieve;
How will your parents grieve; 
	The verdict is made and served.

Let’s pray for our reckoning,
	Before passing we are blessed
Summoned to God’s beckoning,
Humbled before our passing,
	And receive our freedom as promised.

I received bad news today,
	Or maybe it’s not so bad,
For the love in what we pray,
Might be answered someday,
	for blessings we never had.

Go in peace, 
Love and forgive.
Pray for His Mercy.
By faith in him so live.
John 3:16-21

Note: The greatest thing I ever heard came from the lips of an incarcerated felon accepting Jesus Christ who said: “I thank God for prison because now I am truly free.”

by,
Martin Braun

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Sanders the Clown In a Circus of Democrats

Clowns at the Abyss

I’m not a communist,
I’m a Democratic Socialist
Cries the independent Elitist

It’s a right to have healthcare
It’s a right to have welfare
Yet, funding for these generous proposals is no-where.

The clown behind the podium is a saint with your resources.
He proposes everyone pay their fair share, but more so by titan economic forces.
He hails we all work hard, or maybe not, assuming he is a party to the class of workhorses.

But the political party leaders are less like workhorses and more like jackasses.
For they too look down on their Animal Farm with tilted looking glasses.
Under their more-equal-than other proposals, in time all resources will be exhausted for the masses.

We have seen in the last century the million on million dead from empty promises given with a kiss.
We witnessed the suffering. Excuse me but was there something I missed?
If we cannot resist repeating our mistakes, like clowns we be, looking up from the bottom of an abyss.

Coveting is not a virtue.
You can vote your way into Socialism, 
but you have to shoot your way out.

by Martin Braun
3/2/2020

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The Black Rose In the Garden

I stand back and gaze across my wonderful garden, in bloom.
There it lies in the morning sun, with petals glistening from dew.

No one realizes the extent of my love for the rose. As a former resident from Acadia, Maine, my husband and I sold all we possessed for a plot of land in Santa Maria, California for the sole purpose of having the most abundant number of roses in my possession.

On visiting, you will be greeted with a large wooden map my husband constructed before he passed away. It was his last gift to me, signed "In honor of your garden and your one true love, roses. Dieter." It shows forty-four perfectly separate square beds for forty-three different types of roses.

Of those forty-three different types of roses, they are grouped. You will find the Polyantha, Tea, Groundcover, Miniature, and Grandiflora. You find the David Austin, Floribunda, and Rambler. The Climbing and the Shrub as well. This is only half of my lovely roses, which take nearly two acres of what I call my Modern roses. Another three acres I dedicated to the Old Garden variety.

It's my life's work, and I enjoy it thoroughly. Until one day a commotion grew from my most southern and far corner where a group of people stood around my forty-fourth plot, which contains the discarded cuttings. There, from the heap grew a rose like no other, and from one solitary stem a single bud. It was a large bud, and as we stood, in our amazement it began to bloom. As we observed the gradual spreading of the sepal, there came forth the petals, of the deepest of black color. Like a choir, our voices awed in unison at a sight never seen before.

Immediately cellphones were pulled, recording in video and stills what we are witnessing. And calls were made with posts to social media. I could not believe what I was seeing, and never in my life imagined what would come from the excitement that overtook the crowd in their reaction.

As the day progressed, more and more people arrived. Around 11 am news vans appeared with helicopters from above setting up equipment and broadcasting. At 1 pm, the police came to manage traffic. By 3 pm lines expanded crushing my life's work underfoot. By 7 pm civil rites protests gathered and burned down my barn. By 8 pm a riot erupted. And by 9 pm the black bloom was snatched and broken. By 11 pm everyone was gone, except for me, looking down on the fallen petals stretched out... on the ground.

by, Martin Braun
6/25/2020

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The Morning of Battle

Good morning, men;

We wake this dawn on a battlefield prepared before us.
The dew has not yet dried and the scent of earth comingles in the mist.
Some of you wake alone, while some of you wake with company.
But rise you must and be prepared for your test.
This is your time...  this is your moment of preparation.
This is the moment that will dictate victory over great distress

Keep strong in the absence of our meeting and being in God’s home, together.  But in spirit we are united, and have strength in Jesus Christ… 
to conquer all things of this world, 
and to love as he loves us, 
to lift up as he lifts us, 
to care for as he shepherds us.

We are his instrument and do only as he instructs us, for His glory alone.  
And with absolute faith, un-obstructed by fear, submit to his authority, knowing that 
he is the way, 
the truth, 
and the life,


That thru him we have Mercy, 
and want that mercy for all mankind.
And our enemy, who surrounds us... 
by dusk, will be laid to waste.

They have no power over Christ and will be denied the victory they desire. 
This will be their doing, for it is their decision alone, to rule this world.
And in this world, they will be buried, and remain forever.
While we, his servants will join His feast in the everlasting.

Have a great day, gentlemen… and keep being men of God, and strength to one another.
Your brother in Christ.

by, Martin Braun
3/25/2020

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2RJ8QZwhn4

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A Green Rose I Send To Thee

A green rose I send to thee
on the wings of a bird set free.

With it comes my deepest desires,
that burn in the midnight moon on radiant fires.

Your secret mole, hidden from the public eye
flashes in my memory, dancing on ambers as if suspended on wires.

My drunken leprechaun, you intoxicate me with your lies.
You only want to amuse yourself while I take a green wee.

by
Martin Braun
3/16/2020

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The Bones of a Forest

The bones of a forest are stripped clean by the ocean and strewn on her shores. The sun-bleached wooden cemetery leaves a somber impression on the morning scavenger of shells, who meanders in the gray mist of a fall morning dawn. He is lulled by the hush of the fog and the rolling waves that break on a gravel strand. With a head bowed down and hands crossed behind him... he searches... searches for opalescent treasures... like answers to life's questions. Is this how it all started, or is there some grander purpose? Then a gull caws as if an angel calls the seeker's attention. And as he looks up his sight receives a message delivered by two brown pelicans sailing along a cresting wave. This was here before you... and it will continue when you are gone. But now... you are mine... and we are one... divine.

by Martin Braun
6:30 a.m. September 20th, 2023
Jenner, California
To my oceanic compatriots. They put our love under a glass dome, posted deterrent signs on the paths we created 35 years ago, and sealed off the oceans. If they heard my, your, stories, they would run the environmental Bolsheviks into the sea like the demon-possessed pigs that they are. These self-righteous propagandists closed Drakes Oyster farm with lies, and they, like gulag interrogators of 1936, threw us into a sort of prison within the spaces of our minds, torturing us by excluding us from "the motherland's environment", and created an unimaginable wasteland with the walls they built by a lust for power. We are of this world... it is they who are aliens. Let us enjoy what God made. We created the protections with our respect and love for the environment. The environmentalists simply make laws, criminals, and prisoners.

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By What Power?

By What Power?

Disguised by a limb and hidden in a tree,
with what power had you
to murder Adam and Eve?

You came hither and thither, even spoke with our God above,
but by what power had you
to murder Job who He doth loved?

And  you appeared to tempt His son,
and again, by what power had you,
to murder the beloved Christ? 
I’ll tell you... you had none.

Oh! You can lie, and deceive,
you can seduce and even maim.
But you have no power 
o’er my restrain.

And in my suffering what have you prevailed,
when in his name you curse, 
I am then blessed by my Lord Christ’s regale!?

Oh death, where is thy sting,
that you so foolishly taunt,
when in humble and loving servitude I die, 
and pour forth Christ’s blessings bring!?

I only live to serve,
thus I serve and will live forevermore.
If Satan you had the power to murder me, 
you would have done it already and tempt me no more.

You have no power, because you have nothing in store.
I know Christ waits for me, and I faithfully for him.
My life is preserved to serve, 
and already lost to pass through those narrow doors.

Glory be to God... thank you Jesus!

by Martin Braun
Inspired and dedicated to my God, my Lord, my Savior, Jesus Christ.
January 4th, 2923

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Cute Little Sea Snail

Cute Little Sea Snail

From this cute little shell,
you made your home.
You take it with you,
wherever you roam.

So lovely as it is, 
it is also so sad.
There is only room for one,
No husband, no wife, no mother, nor dad.

And when your children come to sup
Where shall the Hors d’Oeuvres go?
There’s no room to dine,
And no hanging place for photos to show. 

“Are you lonely,” is my question to you.
Because when visiting hours are over without a clock that chimes
You take your welcome mat and leave
And you leave nothing behind.

by Martin Braun
January 5, 2024