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

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.

Hangovers

Tyler R. Martin

(looking for some feedback)

Hangovers, in a realistic sense,
Are God’s revenge and your penance.
For any fun you may have had
Is then reversed, correspondingly bad.
When the following day in pain you awake
God has equaled out your little break!

For, as his creations, we do imbibe,
That, which from his fruits, we have derived,
Which He Himself in His wisdom made,
It would then seem to imbibe he bade,
This magic substance to warp our minds
And to consume till all are blind!

So is it not wrong for Him to tempt?
Should we not therefore be exempt?
Can a liquid of sin still feel devine?
Could not it be argued to drink’s a shrine?
Or should we abstain, fear and lament,
Our God above and His contempt!

So if He is to sit upon a throne of law,
Then to me, this must be, really something more.
For if this isn’t cruelty, who then is the judge?
Was it not He, as He be, to give us all the nudge?
If not, then to you I must concede,
That He’ll be there to judge and glare in times of dire need!

“My Sweet Amor”

Tyler R. Martin

I feel love for all that I see,
My heart beats for all before me,
I’m the king of the Lions den now,
Love my pride forever, I vow.
I beg for you in me to trust,
If to survive you know you must
And if I’m to feel some joy once more
I’ll need you here, my sweet amor.

Hope you enjoyed the poem! If you did, my chapbook is available on Amazon for 1.99 and if you message me I’ll definitely send you a free one! I’d love to get some reviews on my work. I’m new to selfpublishing and trying to promote myself anyway I can! There is a link below

Check this out: Midnight Mourning by Tyler R. Martin https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0878SXJBM/ref=cm_sw_r_sms_awdb_t1_iU.MEbDX2GJ4V

“Midnight in Maylla”

Tyler R. Martin

It was the first night since yesterday
On a midnight in Mayalla
And all the street lamps
Shuddered in the breeze.
It was the first wind
To gust the city streets,
To rattle the bones of buildings
And just slightly bend the beams.
And it was the first chill
To haunt Bose boulevard
And chatter the tarnished teeth
In the mouths of wary wanderers
Who trek the narrow streets.
The first wind of the year
(As does every year)
Marks the beginning of The Season
And not a soul of Mayalla
Was unaware of the approach.
This wind would seem but a triviality
To those unacquainted with Mayalla,
But a badness with it came
And Dread tumbled with the leaves
And shook even the corpses
In their graves.
And with the wind
The Mayalla sky grew
Cool and yellow
As the sun receded
Toward the horizon’s brink,
And there it shimmered
For what seemed a moment
As dark dusk rose
And the light
Began to sink.
For in this bitter time,
The beast did arise
To claim it’s yearly offer,
Baring it’s fangs
In form of winds and rain
As the howl of
The winds
Return His call with
It’s refrain.
So, to quell the beast
And all manner
Of His plagues
And proxies that he summon,
Will be brought forth a man
For the grand honor as he,
Screaming fit
To wake the dead,
Is bound to the great tree
For the wolves to ravish
And drag away his head.
All to please the Beast they serve
And pray he chose, for
One more year,
To leave Maylla in the peace
That it deserve.

“The Abyss Above”

Tyler R. Martin

Up in the earthly ether
A rain cloud haunts the
Stratosphere,
Oppressing all below it
And darkening
The terrene frontier.
There’s a dreary feel to all that’s here
With tears forever flowing
From the overburdened
Atmosphere.
And from it, a feeling forever
Of solitude
In all mortal souls,
And darkness draped upon
All that’s new
And all that’s dying
Dead and old.
Every graying face you’ll see here,
No sense of joy
Or gratitude
For this one more sullen day
Of breathing air
Under sky’s tears forever flowing
From the overburdened
Atmosphere.

“just the day to day”

Tyler R. Martin

Putting your hand through drywall,
Your fist bouncing off a beam.
Then recoiling sharpy,
As rage subsides to scream,
After finding out your father died
You beg to wake up from this dream.

But this is just the day to day;
In this wicked world you have to pay.

Nevermind the fact your car’s broken down
And your long time girl’s long gone.
Now your rent’s past due and you ignore the calls
Of your harpy landlord hounding you since dawn.
So all you can do is throw on an old record,
Crack a sudsy beer and sing along,
Hoping as you always do,
There’s some wisdom in the song.

‘Cause this is just the day to day;
In this wicked world you have to pay.

“Sky Fish”

Tyler R. Martin

Recline back now
Watching the fish swim in the sky
Splash me with water
Then dry up, choke and die.
Falling from the heavens
I watch them as they sail
Shriveled buggers
As the friction burns their scales.
And you know that makes me so sad
I’m lonely, wanted to hang,
They didn’t seem bad.
But when they made it, falling in fast
Straight down to me
They were nothing but ash.

“The Almighty’s Comic Relief”

Tyler R. Martin

I was suicidal long before I knew
That living was essentially dying.
I craved death from the beginning,
Tried to hang myself with the umbical cord at birth
…..To no avail.
I followed up by jumping off slides at the playground,
Jumping off roofs, out of windows.
Broke my arm twice, but nothing fatal.
The Almighty caught on to this when I was 12;
My appendix burst spilling gangrene
Throughout my body.
This is how I go, I thought, sick and tired
in a hospital bed while the Almighty has his laugh at
Making me wait so long.
And the Almighty did have his laugh, but it it didn’t
Come with my demise.
According to the surgeon, the Almighty had
Blessed his hand, his scalpel and my soul,
All of these blessings allowed the surgeon
To clean up my insides.
I awoke to pain and scars, but I awoke all the same.
Road rage at twenty, screaming at an asshole
From the Carribean in rush hour Manhattan,
Tried to run my Cadillac through a concrete divider.
I was outside my flattened Caddy smoking a cigarette
When the medics arrived, shocked they hadn’t
Driven up on a corpse.
They demanded I seek medical assistance;
By the third increasingly persistent request
I told them in no uncertain terms to fuck right off.
The Almighty once more had his laugh,
Leaving me with not a scratch and a whopping
Auto bill for my troubles.
Booze, pills, tasers, fights, tried them all;
Nothing seems to slow me down;
I feel I’ll live to a hundred, miserable, battered and broken
But not dead, no that’ll be too easy.
I must have been a cruel man in my past life,
Or maybe I’m just the Almighty’s comic relief.

“On Being a Good, God fearing Drunk”

Tyler R. Martin

I have been a fall-down fucked-up, apathetic,
Puking drunk since I was nineteen.
It has taught me much.
Being a drunk teaches one
How to vomit with grace and poise,
This occurs after years of practice.
A good drunk learns how to shift gears artfully
Driving home from his bar,
Down shifting as he corners on side streets
And narrowly misses parked cars
On the streets of suburbia.
Drunks learn quickly whose girls they can hit on,
And whose they cannot.
Being a drunk teaches you
Whose bark is worse than his bite,
And whose bites you should avoid.
Being a drunk accelerates the learning curve.
This is due to every good drunk’s contempt for all that he is not;
The booze provides this self reflection and it isn’t often pretty.
For being a drunk does not diminish or distort or provide escape from reality,
Being a drunk simply enhances it, puts reality beneath a magnifying glass to reveal the pocked, Scarred and blemished skin hiding beneath the porcelain facade.
Booze will break her drunk down so low he can only look up
And the view is nothing but decay, and this decay is toiled in by the world’s worker ants too blind to see, too innolaclated to smell the stench for the world’s trash fires.
Yes, drunks learn their lessons, and yes, drunks often swear off their medicine, tiring of reality.
But a good drunk always returns to the bottle like a devoted lover, a good drunk cannot stand his own hypocrisy..
They learn their lessons, they learn them harshly, and they learn them truly.
All this for the low low price of a 10 dollar bottle of wine.