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Joe Martin Poem
A hero to a little boy,
Smartest man in the world, so full of joy.
Big HOUSE! Big beard. Big Family! Big belly!!
“I love you son.” “I love you too, Dad”.
A whole different place,
Confusion wins the race.
One night, a big fright. Discovery leads to recovery
“I love you, I promise.” “I love you too, Dad”
A fresh new family,
A mansion from a fantasy.
Pink Floyd and Air guitar! And “this is not the droid you're looking for.”
“We love you son”. “I love you, too”
A trip to the beach,
Just about out of reach.
Chicken bakes and heart aches. Beautiful piers and encroaching fears.
“I love you, see you next month,” “I think I love you too, Dad.”
A long train or a maybe a flight,
One at a time, but always polite.
Awkwardness and distance. Loneliness and inconsistence.
“Love you, see you next time.” “See you, Dad.”
A missed call, or unresponded text,
Why can’t I find the time? Neither this week or next?
We’ll schedule! It’s fine. Just fine. And repeat.
“Speak soon, son.” “Goodbye, Dad.”
A sad piece of news, a long conversation.
Is it actually happening? Time for deliberation.
I’m polarised. A tear in one eye. Phone to his ear. I hope he can hear.
“I’m coming to see you Dad.”
“I think I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, Dad.”
A man who was loved,
Finally at peace, watching from above.
We’ll celebrate the good times as we elevate our goodbyes,
And one last time, without the tune - I’ll see you on the Dark Side of the Moon.
Copyright © Joe Martin | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Joe Martin Poem
Earth, with her fertile ground used all year round
Strong and consistent and new growth persistent
A yield from a field, and a brood of oakwood
Fire, he strikes a match, we start a new batch
Set smoke in a kiln and give life to a still
Begin the real process and start to excite our noses
Air sends a gust that bares a friend, anaerobic right till the end,
We lay it down with care and let the angels have their share.
Let’s give it some time, meanwhile I’ll write this rhyme
Water is here so pure and clean, always from the “world’s best” stream,
Drop-by-drop dilution, phenols and booze in solution
This ancient refreshment takes us closer to perfection
Spirit, In the base of a glencairn, it’s time for my tastebuds to learn,
I’ll give it a smell, a wee sip, and I can tell
That this for me, is exceptional whisky
Copyright © Joe Martin | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Joe Martin Poem
Oh sweet nothing, I really miss you
Just putting one foot on the table, or two
If I could just sink in to this sofa and stew
Oh sweet nothing, I do so miss you
What if you could see me now?
Running in circles like a professional greyhound
You’d not know me, life’s so loud
Oh sweet nothing, if you could see me now.
Dolce Far Neinte, I appreciate you the most
Once taken for granted, now as abstract as a ghost.
Just one small taste, of not making haste
I just need some space to slow down with grace.
Oh sweet nothing, I will always remember
Time to myself, to douse the embers
My goal will be to have a peaceful September,
Wish me luck, sweet nothing, and we’ll be together
Copyright © Joe Martin | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Joe Martin Poem
Elements of a Dram
Earth, with a fertile ground used all year round
Strong and consistent and new growth persistent
A yield from a field, and a brood of oakwood
Fire, with the strike of a match, we start a new batch
Set smoke in a kiln and give life to a still
Begin the real process and start to excite our noses
Air, a gust bares a friend, anaerobic right till the end,
We lay it down with care and let the angels have their share.
Let’s give it some time, meanwhile I’ll write this rhyme
Water, so pure and clean, from the “world’s best” stream,
Drop-by-drop dilution, phenols and booze in solution
This ancient refreshment takes us closer to perfection
Spirit, In the base of a glencairn, it’s time for my tastebuds to learn,
I’ll give it a smell, a wee sip, and I can tell
That this for me, is exceptional whisky
Copyright © Joe Martin | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Joe Martin Poem
Once I had a big fright,
It was dark, it was cold, was the middle of the night
Not so bright.
Fur on hand,
Such pungent air I cannot stand,
It’s planned?
Oh look.
Dog had a spook,
Poop.
Once I had a big fright,
It was dark, it was cold, was the middle of the night
Not so bright.
Copyright © Joe Martin | Year Posted 2023
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