INSIDE CITY LIVES

snow swept the city with white coolness

warm and soft by night

it played fairy-like with us

and danced in our heads



that evening the streets were slush

and the buildings grew up on either side

someone had planted stark trees in the sidewalk

everything itself alone



silent omniscience

i wonder how birds survive

the winter there

without boots and umbrellas



(i must think

get everything straight

and in proper order)



on one side of town

the only signs of human life

were a boy and girl

crossing the street



and their dog who looked cold

sitting on the frozen cement

didn't seem to notice

their smiles and laughter



while on the other side of town

life was never quiet

i have watched the people

walk the night



in the early hours

when most were asleep

they came in bright colours

or baggy clothes to feed on the darkness



(i must think

get everything straight

in proper order)



blood gushes from a soldier

and drips from his wound

if it's peace and freedom

it's getting soaked up in the soil



i wonder what a dying man thinks about

rain maybe-

i think if i were a dying man

i would think about rain



but then, i'm not a dying man

and all i have to think about

is getting everything straight

and in proper order



Washington D.C. 1967


© Wendy Gwen Martin 2009

LIFE'S PRISM

As sequences of life

Pour through this prism glass

The world pounds in the heads of me

Shattered pulsating veins

Remain my brain

Upon the beach

Like the sands are strewn

About the desert



Silence and chaos flutter around

Misty eyes

in the moonlight

Tracing-

Forests with footprints

Watch bordoms destroy

Once crystal, coloured

Lacings

of enchanted dreams

In prisms

And twilights wash out

Toward sea



Malibu, California 1966


© Wendy Gwen Martin 2009

SUN EARTH

I meet the naked sun ready for blessing

the high green mountains rise also to the sky



While some hide their tops in sinuous clouds

others brush against the sun



As rivers rush toward oceans leaving mother earth

so do birds move to greet her



In wingless skies I too have known the touch of her hand

emerald seas we have trod together



My night walk first blinded by glaring darkness

felt pebbles pierce my feet and coolness penetrating



Light forms peril my mind words slice my throat

my soul is nourished by the blood and pain of my suffering



I am to find peace in the meadows by the forests

embedded in the mother earth



But I am a babe in the swirl of life

i seek the father sun to covet me



In the darkness he reveals shadows of the morning

and in these shadows I see constant life



Malibu, California 1967



© Wendy Gwen Martin 2009

THE CHILD

The child playing in the sand

Though meek in sight

Holds in his hand

His plight of crime

His love his hate

Thoughts which pry

Or find escape

Watch him grow.

His thoughts emerge

But actions show

How caged a bird

Has been.



Malibu, California 1963

© Wendy Gwen Martin 2009















© Wendy Gwen Martin 2009

THE WIND AND THE SAIL

You raise your eyes toward heaven

And the skies are alight with the soul of the sun.

My world has the warmth of your heart penetrated in it

As you breathe-

the breath of the desert scents fill my lungs.

You are the golden air that reflects a satin mist

upon these lips

You are the orange-red butterfly sucking the dew

from early morning

You are the laughter of children

and the laughter of old

You are the light-

the silver shadows

That greet me at twilight

You are love



I am the green eyes constantly watching you...

My wild mast slashes the breeze

as I beacon your attention

And I waver-

when I have small need for you

I am courage and lust

I am dreams and hope

I am the vision of the future

But without you the future would be lost



We are his lover and his love

He will llisten to my misery during a storm

Then run to you and hide his shameless tears

in your arms

Seeking the calm...silence



You are the wind

and I the sail.


written 1965 in Malibu, California

© Wendy Gwen Martin 2009

PARTS of a SEPARATE UNITY

When I was thirteen years old, my mother taught me iambic meter.