Lillian Martin Poetry

The Door Also Opens Inwards

2009-01-03T01:26:00.000-08:00

A haiku written in response to a word prompt.

THE DOOR ALSO OPENS INWARDS (January 3, 2009)

We open our doors
With kindness in the spring-time
In winter we close

(c) Lillian Martin

The Mirror

2008-11-20T00:39:00.000-08:00

This is another exercise poem to experiment with iambic pentameter, trochaic substitution and pyrrhic substitution. I'm not entirely happy with it, but it shows the techniques.

THE MIRROR (13 November, 2008)

I have a small mirror upon my wall
Its frame was once gilded, now worn away
I stare at my face and wonder of those-
those faces this mirror has seen before.

Are they still there? In part - as an echo
Will I see them if I look hard enough?
What did they see as they looked at themselves?
And do they see me as I search for them?

(c) Lillian Martin

Poetry Exercise Number 2

2008-11-11T02:45:00.000-08:00

So I'm working my way through a book by Stephen Fry called 'The Ode Less Travelled' which has some great information on writing poetry and techniques - none of which anybody bothered to teach me in school. Here is one of the exercises I wrote to get a feel for iambic pentameter, one of the basics of writing English poetry (again, don't exactly remember ever being taught this fundamental, but then, I only completed Grade 12, a Bachelor of Arts degree and Grad. Dip in Library Science).

POETRY EXERCISE NUMBER 2 (10 November, 2008)

The laundry basket needs putting away
But I cannot face that horror today
The constant soiling and cleaning all day
When all I want is to go out and play

(c) Lillian Martin

Bubbles

2008-11-10T01:26:00.000-08:00

Here's a free verse effort from when I was a lonely teenager. lol.

BUBBLES (14 April, 2003)

How am I supposed to understand
The things you say
The things you do

I know that you are speaking
I can hear the words you say
I see your lips moving

But it all means nothing to me.

How am I supposed to comprehend
Anything beyond myself
When I am wrapped in bubbles

People can see me
But they cannot touch

This is my bubbleworld
In bubblewrap

Untouchable
Unreachable

They are supposed to protect me
... the bubbles

But I feel suffocated.

(c) Lillian Martin

Ode to Golf Revised

2008-11-08T03:47:00.000-08:00

Upon reading this poem again (and 11 years in between!) I can see some issues with it. The rhythm wants to work, but doesn't ... so I revised it (and got rid of that annoying un-rhyme I remember not being able to lose in 97). So here it is:

ODE TO GOLF REVISED (9 November, 2008)

An endless sea of rolling green,
With sweaty palms and face so keen
I stand upon a lonely hill
A silent breeze, my bones do chill.

A thick silence envelopes me,
It's like a fog I cannot see.
My arms swing back, I sight once more,
I slice the air and call out 'Fore'.

(c) Lillian Martin

Exam Time (haiku)

2008-11-08T03:27:00.000-08:00

This is a haiku I just wrote. It is of a modern haiku style - that is 5,7,5 and containing a kigo (season word). I'm unsure if haikus have titles though ... if anyone knows could you let me know. In the meantime I think I'll name it just for the ease of posting.

EXAM TIME (8 November, 2008)

Jacarandas bloom -
The students rush to and fro
Books trailing behind.

(c) Lillian Martin

Ode to Golf

2008-11-07T01:47:00.000-08:00

I won a highly commended for this one at school when I was 14. I think it's a bit daggy now, but thought I'd post it anyway ... lol.

ODE TO GOLF (1997)

An endless sea of rolling green
With sweaty palms and a face so keen
I stand upon a lonely hill
A silent breeze, my bones do chill.

The silence it surrounds me,
Like a stuffy blanket I cannot see.
My arms swing back all stiff and taut,
I slice the air and call out 'Fore'.

(c) Lillian Martin

The Shortened Path to Happiness (draft)

2008-11-06T02:00:00.000-08:00

This one has been floating around in my head for a few months, and I finally got to write it down last night. I think it still could do with a little work, so this is really a draft.

THE SHORTENED PATH TO HAPPINESS (5 November, 2008)

My heart is broken for my love has left
The days are long - I am cold and alone ...
... and the prophets whisper to me (consume)
Buy some icecream!
It's scientifically proven,
Genetically tested
and comes with a Dr. Morris genuine smile guarantee!

My dog has heightened anxiety disorder
and I think he needs a new tennis ball ...
... the prophets grin and clap and say to me (consume)
You also need a brush, tidy bags and plate,
A special heat pad for his poor arthritic knee
If you do not buy these things WATCH OUT!
For you will be a Bad Pet Owner - the scorn of all.

I know I need a pair of green socks, but why?
I know I need scented writing paper, but why?
...the prophets are getting angry now (CONSUME)
The green socks are in case your brown socks are dirty
The writing paper is so people will like you
You are rather boring otherwise you know
There, someone had to say it.

But why do I need another coffee table book?
Why must I buy that special edition computer game?
(SHUT UP! SHUT UP! CONSUME!)
You do not make these decisions for yourself!
You are not capable!
Just shut up and be good and don't question!
Give up! Consume.

(c) Lillian Martin

The Liminal

2008-11-05T00:52:00.000-08:00

I wrote this one just after finishing my undergraduate degree, not knowing where I was heading next. Hang on a minute, I still don't know!

THE LIMINAL (12 February, 2004)

The beach beckons
The shoreline calls

Not quite sea
Not quite land

The choice is in that space.

Swim on forever out to sea?
Or walk up to the coffee shop?
(for a double chocolate mocha)

People for miles
All looking for answers,
None of them knowing it.

I could stand up and tell them all!
Or I could swim out to sea.

When they're ready, they'll see for themselves

The liminality of everyday
Of everyman.

(c) Lillian Martin

Black and White

2008-11-04T03:02:00.000-08:00

I wrote this in response to a prompt on a forum board. The prompt was simply: "Black and White".

BLACK AND WHITE (12 August 2008)

In a castle
On a hill
A fine lady waits.
She stares out the window
Brushing her hair
She sighs.

She watches from her perch
Up high in the wall
The people below.
Playing, fighting
Fighting for her
She sighs.

Oh to join them!
Up here wrapped in safety
Her restlessness grows.
Just to move
to participate!
She sighs.

The Queen must wait
With patience
With grace.
Her time will come
And then they'll see
the most powerful piece of all.

(c) Lillian Martin