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Best Poems Written by Gordon Martin

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

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

Fast and Cheap She Says

What ever is fast and cheap you say...
You are so funny -
this is not a fast thing - 
to do a video montage of 5 minutes 
may take me a lifetime
as I move from inspiration to inspiration


As I move from the new to the old,
from the young to the dead
From the slam poetry finals of one 
then two then three


As my mind goes in a different direction
I remember the stylings of Shane Koyczan,
the named Poet of the 2010 Olympics and his poem "We are more...


As I travel that highway reading and listening 
Who in 2007 at Words Aloud- said "this is my voice, there are many like it but this is mine."


Then I switch the Channel
To watch Harry Baker, 
World Gram Slam Poetry Champion 
do his world winning poem Paper People
at a Ted X event


Then leaving into deeper waters
into places of discomfort
Into the world of academics
Into the world of those who call themselves poet and are - poets, writers, teachers, PhD's, academics who inspire yet grade.


My first stop being The African Canadian
Metis Poet Laureate of Canada
George Elliot Clarke

I read through an analysis of his writing style
how many awards won and how books published and read his poem, The Emissaries, which was described as what he can do when allowing his understanding of imagery and emotion to create the poem, to become pure poetry, what Robert Frost meant by "poetry" when he called it what could not be translated into a different sound


And from which a stanza reads

a motel sign glares blood-red,
opposite a home of the freshly-dead.
the black body of a Bible,
lynched on the tree of a table,
is motionless as possible,
i would read it if I were able
(if it's words were not birds of prey in a bomber-sky, olive and grey)

Fast and cheap you say as I go deeper into the caverns of why we write - to say the things that we can't say aloud or may have always been afraid


Which leads me to remember that you write about why you love your daughter and hate your daughter, and write about things that are unfair


Then get back on track and think about Santiago, a poem on a different planet from me it seems,
yet brings me back To the First Latino, son of an immigrant farmer, (who Trump intends to send packing), Poet Laureate of USA, Juan Felippe Herrera who invited his Grade 3 teacher, Mrs. Sampson, to his first reading at the US Congress Library because she invited him to the front of the class and sing a song "three blind mice" and told him he had a beautiful voice.


And who said
"When people ask - what is poetry Juan Felippe - It is freedom. That is what it is. That's what everybody has. And when you use your own voice, your own personal voice, freely, the real you, then we're all united"


Fast you say and cheap -
As I explore roads and voices 
that I have never ventured on
When i need to face myself 
and the voice inside that says - 
too accomplished, 
too smart for you - 
who do you think you are to say 
that you too are a poet


Fast and cheap you say
As I move from inspiration to inspiration
Wondering how many roads saying yes will lead


As I read about Bombs in Brussels and the death of a 46 year old man who was former Mayor of Toronto who became a laughing stock of the late night talk shows, when it is not so funny now ... Because addiction ain't funny - and l life is short and unfair


Fast cheap and easy not easy - 
you did not say that
And it is nobody's fault but my own
as I should be applying for a job 
or preparing for an interview or 
going to the gym or making my lunch


As I move from inspiration to inspiration
This rant ends now and yet I am sure you can see that when you got me on the phone last year and asked me that silly question - "would you play with me?" that you opened new worlds of language and words that I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams

That my words - mine would be published - Fear Rising which it does for me daily and yet when I read it I see that it is not what defines me


Fast and cheap she says
As I reach and say mine and
As she tosses me the ball
Run with it, go
Over obstacles, invented
Imagined, through mud
So thick and hills steep with 
rocks jagged cutting my feet into shards

Shall I run lightly
Or move quietly
Or blindly move forward
Like the Titanic
In these dangerous waters


Fast and cheap you say
As I look at my watch and see
3 hours later
Still not 30 seconds on
a 5 video minute montage.

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

Harvesting Light

How do we harvest light? 
We dig through the darkness. 
When light is a turnip
Growing in the rocky Newfoundland soil
Digging through the darkness
Hands bloody and torn
Digging into my past
Through trauma
Stories and roots 
Block the path
Rocks and fears
Make the work
Challenging, draining
Often I need to rest
Light is the quest
The digging worthwhile
Golden ears listen
A great gift given
Lessons come
Light lessons
Unlike dirt
Undone by 
A good scrub
Light permeates
Till you and it are the same
No washing required

Wishing you love and light


Gordon Martin
February 1, 2019

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

An Exploration of Inspiration

An exploration of inspiration

Gang leaders and Nobel peace laureates 

sharing on creating peace

Here and now

Moving beyond who I am

Or moving toward who I am

As a natural expression 

Of me 

As poet

Creator

Expander of possibility

Expanding beyond 

Into the wider unknown

A space of abundance

And miracles

Possibility

And transformation

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

Leap

Yes me I did leap
Can't determine 
How high

I see now
The path
My troubles are nigh

That fog in my way
Those chains 
wearing me down

The locks they 
have crumbled
Grown Rusty and brown

That drama in my life 
The story oh 
so old

Has worn out its welcome
It's blood 
has run cold

Dark clouds they are over
I have come 
into the light

Welcome morning 
Goodbye to the
Night

The sun brings its heat
Bring its shine to 
my face 

My recovery is working
Many things fall
In place

The battle never over
Dark times I 
will see 

Yet I have the 
armor and weapons
To help me

I have my guides
And oh how
I've grown

I finally see
Do not walk it
Alone 

I am grateful 
And humble 
And happy to be

Walking beside
Not behind knowing
Thee are with me

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

Mardi Gras En Force

Poetry is more than words
it is song
music
and beat
a movement
of dance
of jigs
spins and reels
old and new
coming together
rhyme and meter
of voice 
a passion so deep
in language not understood
but felt
breath funnelled 
through instruments
evoking sounds
through hands and feet
Rock n Roll moves 
operatically
through ears to heart
hips mardi gras en force
from them to us
and in between 
a party begins

(Inspired by the notion that every conversation is not just one of words)

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

Caught

Wanting to understand
Listening to the words
Not knowing 
Understanding the pain 
Understanding the loss
I just listen to the wind 
It moves through me like the breath of God
It moves over me like an artists’ brush
It runs through my hair 
Flows through my soul
And leaves with a whisper
Like she never visited at all
Just be on…there is love
Alone with my thoughts
It is love that graces me 
That moves me 
Causing feelings to rise
To emerge 
Wanting to pass through 
Getting caught in my throat
Why do I hang on so
Allow to rise 
Time heals
That which is broken within

(That which flowed through while listening to Alcatraz by Hey Rosetta)

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

Your Voice

Your Voice it's yours 
haven't you been told 
That Voice in your head
Don't let it get old

Do you use it for harm
Do you use it for dread
Does your Voice stay silent 
As if you were dead

Is it only for shouting 
And trying to be heard
Or would I have to lean in
To hear one small little word

Could I hear in song 
Could I hear it's in prose
Would it make me go silent
Would it curl my big toes

The world wants to hear you
There is little doubt 
There are all kinds of vehicles
For your voice to get out

I could have my opinions 
That would not matter much 
Because that’s my voice
And for you out of touch

I am happy to listen 
Many more too indeed
Just need you to show up
Without any heed

Stand on a mountain
Stand on a hill
Stand on an issue
And give us the chills

We are waiting Just waiting 
Don't leave us too long
We are looking to celebrate
Your voice so strong

Please leave your worries
Cast out your fears
Your voice is important
It's the reason you're here

Gordon Martin May 31, 2017

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

Stumbling Upon Beauty

You have to forgive me
Been in the hospital 
For 3 days now
With mi amor
Who has been
In a month
white uniforms
Calm colors familiar
I almost forgot I
Step on new 
ground each day

Antiseptic smell
Broken by humanity
When what is taken
To relieve pain
Causes another

This day we should 
Have flown out
Caught a wind gust
Soared high
Above streets
Yet remain another day

You have to forgive me
Going curbside to 
Pick up a change of clothes
And share news of Miman
I don’t wish to rush back

My lovers call says
I will see you in a little bit
Gives me all I require to 
venture further

You have to forgive me
Searching for food
Not from a machine
My little cafeteria on siesta
No huevo frite y aguacate 
For me today

You have to forgive me
For strolling farther
Past La Deliciosa Pan Gourmet
Giant fresh almond cookies
And pastries that normally
Catch me no hook required

Restaurante Chino Feng Shou
Doors locked tight 
Lo de Mami prepared foods
Themselves gone to lunch 

Needing more than 
convenience
More than 
bocadillo de jamon
Than fruitas y verduras

You have to forgive me
For stumbling upon beauty
In these tight streets
More photos on my phone
A witness to my folly

Red shutter persona
Bougainvillea spilling
Multicolored tile
Splashing personality
On concrete walls 

You have to forgive me
I like the new 
The sleek styling of 
Modern architecture 
But love the old
Spanish Colonial
Ignites my heart

Has me imagining
Streets teeming
Acoustic sounds
The hustle and bustle

Of stories told
By candle light
And novels written
During summer heat
Where wind through 
Open shutters the only relief 

These streets bare
Except for cars
Packed one to another
Bought to fit parking spaces
Comfort taking a back seat

Yes I could wander for days
Among these streets
Watching for splashes of light
Looking for community
In the design

And while the Church may be 
geographically in the center
Of this neighborhood in Palma

I imagine Ca’n Mona 
Variets Mallorquin
May be the heart
It’s Seafood Paella 
the required food 
for the soul

Each week he says
They come for my specialty
In his broken English
As I utter my Spanish 
thank yous

While the sign says
We are fighting
For survival and coexistence
Against short term tourism rent 
I get another point of view

I know my wish is 
not to exploit
Son Espanyolet
But to honor
To marvel in the beauty
Embrace these streets
I have never before walked

Stumbling upon beauty 

GM
Son Espanyolet
Palma de Mallorca
Feb 26 2021

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

An Angel Amongst Us

An Angel Amongst Us

Born on Christmas Day
there is no doubt 

That an angel she was on a 
long term leave from heaven

Her love was felt by 
all those she touched 

A lady and gentle soul 
through and through

Giving a smile and a 
thank you to everything we did 

To every time we 
included her in our lives

Always giving a beautiful smile,
compliment and hug

She was a teacher too, 
showing us how to be brave m 
in the face of challenges

Showing us how to be strong 
when we may felt weak 

Reminding us what courage 
really looked like

For my children, she was a hero, 
who taught them through her actions
more than her words 

To Gladys, we all were her family 
and she wanted to be there for all 
the important things in our lives

A mother to all the children of her life,
all of us hers, although none of us were

What a gift, what a special soul.

And her husband Herb, a man 
standing by her side for 68 
wonderful years
 

She was as gracious to him 
as she was to us all. 

While we may be sad for our loss, 
we really must feel blessed for 
how long God allowed Gladys to stay

To teach us of love, of family, 
of grace each and every day

To share her love of life, 
her love of everything we held dear

Gladys we love you now 
and will every passing year.

Gordon Martin July 15, 2016

Details | Gordon Martin Poem

A Poetic Response

Oh how I love 
When that stranger walks in
He calls out to me
Asks me to begin

Wants me to sing 
him a song
About my disease
Wants me to beg 
and lie down 
To get on my knees

Wants to laugh at my shame embellish my guilt
Wants to drag me down
Wants to to tear down what i built

Yet I don't mind to sing 
In fact like to dance 
That stranger inside
He stands little chance

In shadows he lurks
In shadows he resides
When brought into light
He loses his disguise

Sure I have done this 
And i have done that
I went way further down
Than an alley cat

That stranger and me
Have been round the block
Many days and nights
Without noticing the clock

Today I see him there 
He is always nearby
He is quite sad you know
In fact makes me cry

Trying to bury his pain
To not bring it to light
Does not live in the day
Inhabits the night 

Today i don't join him
Left that life behind
I keep him nearby
To only remind

Now i play with the poets
Creates rhymes from the dust
God's voice comes right through me 
Begs me to trust

God's voice comes right through us
Yes you and yes me
God's voice comes right through us
For all the world to see

I am grateful today
For an ink slinger's tune
Now I shall retire
And go stare at the moon

A Poetic Response to a poem on recovery