My Seraph in Disguise

Tyler R. Martin

A beauty thought reserved only for nature,
Somehow now resides within your eyes,
How can such magic be earthly normal,
Is it real, or just some clever guise?
I wonder, are you a true mortal woman
Or a Seraph, an angel in disguise?
–Your hair of a goddess, with golden streaks
Falling gently on tan, smooth skin;
I envy it, caressing your neck,
Cascading down your back, touching your chin.
You’re speaking softly, with love in your eyes,
Giving me a glimpse of your gorgeous mind,
Such a serene, tantalizing feeling,
Something of heaven and earth combined.
And with a pitch like some divine instrument,
Yours: a voice that serenades so sweetly,
From a grin like a summer sunrise,
A few notes and I’m enthralled completely.
Because truly, I wouldn’t be surprised
Were you to admit to me tenderly:
You’re not just my love, my prize,
But my Seraph, my angel in plain disguise

Love and anarchy: a poetry chapbook.

A very moving review of my latest chapbook

Ways of The Master

This is a poetry review.  I chose to read this one because it brings a new side of life.  I do not smoke.  I do not drink.  I do not choose to see the tragedy in life.  And yet, this work of poetry is very moving, and it expands my mind into understanding other aspects.  You can find love, relationships, the emotional roller coaster in the poet’s life.  There is a hint of depression and addiction here.  It is a mixture of emotions and each line explains the essence of anxiety, joy, sadness, lost love, memories.   

I give this one 4 stars out of 5.

  • I really think life is a tragedy, a theater of our making, a myriad of our most intimate experiences and inner dialogues (or daily self-talk).  And I think the poet tries to bare his experiences, raw and very intimate; thus desires to share that…

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Lost Along the Shore

Tyler R. Martin

Highway, high beams on, I’m cruising,
And cursing “please bring on the dawn!”
Oh Father, high above me, don’t keep me waiting for
A break from what I needed,
Just a short break for, really nothing more.
A quick spell from
The nighttime, the moonrise and the nightmares
Of a never ending road along the shore,
And the bother of an empty tank
And the fear of what waits in store.
Oh Father, high above me, don’t keep me waiting for
The sputter and the stammer as my foot hits the floor,
And my ride canters to the side
By the reed and the bottles and needles by the shore,
Where the wild waves crash,
And the wild waves break,
Father knocking at my door.

Highway, high beams on, I’m cruising,
And cursing, “out of my way now!
I need to gain some ground!”
Rubber tires, number four and plus one wheel,
But they’re all useless,
They’re worn down to the steel.
Now the engine won’t turn over,
It’s apathy covered by some noise,
As it tries to ignite what is now
Only some vapor in the void.
Oh Father, high above me, don’t keep me waiting for
Yet another…another fucking chore…
Well, so on and so on,
Now I’m lost along the shore,
While the wild waves crash,
Father knocking at the door.

A World of No Heros

Tyler R. Martin

“The end draweth nigh!” Shouts a man on the corner

Waving a flag and dressed in rags.

What a sight to behold,

I thought with a grin,

It was something out of a movie, 

A madman screaming of sin.

And yet, perhaps he is right

And his message is true

But in a world bereft of heros

I suppose there’s nothing we can do.

|| AUGUST 2020 ||

My poem, Atom Bomb days, was featured amongst some pretty awesome poets for the August edition of Versification. Definitely a site worth viewing!

versification


This issue of VERSIFICATION

is dedicated to

all survivors

of

hate, abuse, oppression, and injustice.


WARNING: DISTURBING CONTENT


Banana Bread

By Shufei Ewe

420 sifts by quickly,

everyone is still getting baked––

the powder just looks different.

HRG


9:47 |By Stephen J Golds

in the morning

eating breakfast out of a ripped plastic bag in a parking lot of an isolated

seven-eleven with gut ache and the shakes wondering if she was right after all.

HRG


menarche

By Gina Marie Bernard

the very first time, i am twelve—

unscheduled, ill prepared.

blood trickles; i imagine an arroyo.

he grinds my cheek to carpet

and prompts me not to tell.

Sara Dobbie


Kip Knott

Evening Walk after the Divorce

By Kip Knott

Two cops stand over the body of a man

I’ve sometimes given loose change.

They wrap him in plastic. In the body bag’s zip

I hear my ex-wife brushing…

View original post 1,503 more words

To Think of Sarah

Tyler R. Martin

Each time that song plays I think of Sarah,
And her red hair waving lovely in that way.
Every time the chorus rings I feel so alone,
Saying, “Sarah God I miss you,
Sarah, baby, please come on home,
Sarah, without you I’ll be alone.”

And each time the song ends, I feel so empty,
Until that solemn tune begins again;
I mourn the loss of my lover
And the loss, also, of a friend
For much like that sad song, I’ve played for so long,
Someone one help me, please, I’m at my end.
Saying, “Sarah God I’ll miss you,
Sarah, please come home,
It’s better here I promise
Than wherever you may roam
Sarah, without you I’ll be alone.”

There’s bound to be a reason for her leaving,
There’s bound to be an answer in her words,
The words she knew so true
And she felt she had to say
When she gasped out her last breath
As I held her hand to pray
Before her body became cold,
Saying, “Sarah, without you I’ll be alone.”

“If ever was there life,” she said,
“there also must be death,
I feel the weight upon me now,”
As she she struggled her last breath
And in her final agony, she smiled so sincere,
Saying, “my loves with you forever, babe,”
In her last moment here,
“But, never fail to wander, and
Don’t be in agony over me,
Don’t sit upon a throne so lonesome,
That I couldn’t bear to see.”
And in that final moment I gave my reply,
Saying, “Sarah, God I miss you so badly Right now, baby, I could cry,
Sarah, baby why’d you have to die?”