Denis Martindale Poems

A whole day had gone by, flown by,
I'd written absolutely nothing at all,
Just washed my hands and my face,
Just dressed, shaved, made the bed,
...

Like each poet, I cherish the infinity of choice,
the tickling to-and-fro sensation of creating ideas,
sifting through unspoken dreams and themes,
fashioning exquisite memories in the minds of others,
...

My thoughts and inspirations drive
My pen across the page,
Applying pressure as I strive,
To reach that final stage...
...

The tiger cub had all but grown
And now the world seemed his,
For as a tiger all alone
Deep water proved such bliss...
...

I want to write a dynamite poem,
one that'll blow their brains out,
one that'll leave them open-mouthed,
not breathing in, not breathing out,
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I recently wanted to console someone,
who was suffering from jealousy...
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They display the vastness of space,
they create a dark dynamic tapestry,
they sparkle like a baby's eyes,
they shine like distant pearls,
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Write something that touches your heart,
Then share it and touch another heart,
That heart can share it with another heart
And that's just a part of the start...
...

If, as poets, we set the words free,
it's only because we captured them first,
dragged them from dictionaries,
sploshed them ink-wise upon each page,
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The moon stays constant in the sky,
Reflecting sunshine here,
As little children ask God why
The moonbeams seem so clear...
...