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Best Poems Written by Jeremy Martin

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

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Great Barrier Reef

Pacific beauty, garland of shimmering pastels  
Textures and colors astound, deep in your ocean heart 
Your court is larger than any kingdom on Earth 
And hosts grand balls and parties, 
Shimmering schools of fish dance in unison 
Anemones gather by the thousands
Each more vibrant than the next
Grand plumes of algae sway like great banners
In the streets of your endless coral cities,
Lost happily in orange towers 
All fathoms deep, cradled by warm currents
Erupting and tumbling and breathing, 
The jealous coast watches, the winds bow down 
Salt and scales glitter like stars in your sky
Oh magnificent belle of Queensland! 
All Hail The Great Barrier Reef!


For PD's "7 wonders of the ancient or new world" contest

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013



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Spider Songs

Blades of grass, wet under foot, insect eyes  
Dusk, offset by the cricket orchestra 
Muted and receding into the trees and bushes,
Tickled by the wind, rattling snake tail wind 
While we may be in the company of wolves,
A long legged friend is late for the party 

Eyes, little iridescent stars 
Attending to each one, and look there, 
There she is, making the most beautiful geometry 
Parallels within the octagons, pulling silks
An arm for every task, little perpetual motion machine

Is that the Queen of the Night under the rusted iron? 
A forlorn lady, black patent leather, kill a man, maybe two 
With her danger red symmetry, oozing with youth 
And a penchant for paralysis, no one can resist her wine

Then there's the hall of cob webs, threadbare handkerchiefs
Left by ladies who exhausted all of their company 
To be a spectacle under the moon, in the wood pile 
Dressed up in the finest furs, all earth tones 
Stepping out to introduce themselves in girlish droves 

Venus of another sort, these little cursed jezebels 
Hovering on the skin of the water, or on the red brick wall 
Must frequent every happy corner, and slip away at a moment's notice
A real lady always knows when to say goodnight
Such graceful exits through cement cracks
Back to the parlor, to glow in the dark 
And they become spiders again

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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Moth

"Moth" 

The night shivers out
Hymns upon lonely gray wings 
They drift like a sigh

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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Memento Mori

The bells call forth from mighty tower keeps 
To herald passing souls from here to there 
The orange sun upon the hilltop creeps 
It crucifies night's cold and blind despair

And light of day itself may also bluff  
The flower blooms and will too soon dissolve 
There is no virtue virtuous enough 
To ban the steady tide of death's resolve 

If permanence is just a fleeting dream, 
Why burden every man and child fair? 
To ask is chasing shadows down a stream 
Fall not into the well of when or where 

These words are written clear for all to see: 
What I am now you too shall one day be

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Jeremy Martin Poem

Circles of Slumber

The amaryllis yawns in bed of white 
The fall of day paints shadows on the rose 
Each flower is a ward of solemn night 
Their gentle sleep upon which none impose 

Beyond the halls and down the drowsy stair 
Into the hallowed stillness of the lake 
Illuminating every pebble there 
The moon believes that no one is awake 

Yet bittern watches all with eyes of gold 
Alighted new in absence of the light 
And with his lusty call so clear and bold 
He breaks the quietude and then takes flight 

A ripple in the water seeks the shore 
It meets the rocks and ripples there no more

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013



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For My Mom

Though many songs are written of angels
I must add to the empire 
This small hymn to a woman, a champion of life 
Nameless here, but named in all things good and pure
I'll stand beside her work, her artistry astounds the stars 
And all light that is given is humbled in her presence 
Every worry is smoothed away, all tears absolved 
God, let me take her sadness into me and carry it for her
Until I am old, and then I'll have my chance to see her once more 
I am not a religious man, but she brings the divine to me  
And cradles me forever in her selfless, adoring arms 
I love you mother, I love you
I will always love you

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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In the Morning

Forest light,
June murmurs,
sailing wren.. 



-for Gigno's "Ellip" contest

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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Erie

I owe so much to you 
When you pulled at me,
Tugged me from my toiling, 
When I was crouched low,
In the kitchen, blurry choke of tears 
I saw the outline of your peninsula 
Etched in florescent blue in my mind
A little red star on a map 
Such a hard drive (for me and the Ford) 
But I, swept into the arms of that gentle house, 
Saw a clearing in the nettles, one that I could pass through
And those turned to violets that kissed me as I was waking up 
And going to bed, listening to the healing black wind 
Through the many cracked windows 
Presque Isle with her flags and sea glass 
The promise of going to Canada 
Turning my head to look at the lake, that dark lake
Itself enigmatic- a sea but not a sea 
I think about that, brush the snowy sand from my palms 
Yes, in a way,
That could be me

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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The Warmer Months

I always feel like a prisoner in the winter, banished from the outside by the jealous wind. As I get older, I continue to make peace with the cold, but I follow the spring. It is a different door, one covered with vines and stars, and to it I am drawn, as if to a beautiful girl.. no other days compare to her.
  
The flash of a disposable camera, clicked with young fingers, pink-polished nails. A yellow sun dress patterned with orange daisies. The basket on the bike is filled with stuff for lunch, sodas and sandwiches and things. Laughter resounds over the tops of trees as we careen, the children of May, across the sun-spotted road.

The compass points north You know, this is Saturday That means we go east
You yell to me that I run too fast, but all I hear is my heartbeat in my ears. I look back, you run faster. The evening begins to cast a spell in our town; the colors purple and orange appear like watercolor in the sky and we both stop to watch. Vapor trails crisscross above us, they're streaks across the fading day, pieces of the memories we've made.
Heat lightning at night She's reading a magazine Sarah's rare green eyes
To your door we go, but only you proceed. Your father doesn't trust me yet, but I tell you that I'll try harder. Maybe, one day, he'll give me a pat on the shoulder and a smile. It does hurt, I won't deny, to listen to the screen door wheeze shut and hear your bounding footsteps on the stairs. What comforts me is that I know tomorrow brings you around again, walking through a high archway, lovely enough to steal the sun's attention from the flowers.
These suburban dreams The pink and yellow houses Waiting with my thoughts
-For Debbie Guzzi's "Spring Haibun" contest

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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Virginia

Virginia's abound with hills that roll off her shoulders
Wet rocks glisten on the edge of the lazy water 
Translucent fish arching through the cold channels 
Silver barbed hooks rusting in tree trunks
Dangling over the water, and breathing life into the earth

Wet like your skin, see-through blue eyes 
Making waves as the children pirouette off the stone cliffs
Disappearing into the emerald green and slate shadows 
Meeting the cool rush of the river when they get down there
Or that old carp that Lizzy caught last summer but she let go 
Swim bladders shining like mirrors, reflecting oily promises 

Running after the great blue, pistons heaving in the hills 
Soot on daddy's solemn brow, over his gentle eyes 
They all come running, soaking and plodding home
Eager hands grasping for the pie in the window
While the last beat of the summer wind kicks around
Makes the quilt with many colors take flight on the line 
One more day under the belt, and another notch in the bed post 
Sleep like kings, little Southern Royalty 
That old time hang dog moon will see you through

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things