Category: Poem (page 1 of 10)


Had I been kinder

She thought of her love

Long passed


In the fading light of our

Last circadian rhythm

An epitaph might ask

Had we all


Martinos @ 2018

Realising Your Life Purpose at 60

to let the wind blow me

where I need to be

and to do good

when I get there


PS: other possible titles

  • An Ambiguous Vision
  • An Authentic Way to Meander
  • The Goal to Set When You’re Not Into Goal Setting

Martinos @ 2018

Human Reality

the moment you

realise there is

no end in sight

and no solution;

and all you have

is one another


Martinos @ 2018

This Journey

for Toke Paludan Møller


Open the flower

Load the camel

Kiss the lion

Trust the child

Dance your truth

Return the stone


Martinos © 2018

To the End

(for Pam)

She said
of his passing

‘You know
nothing is seen to change
and yet,
everything does’

Later at the window

She spoke with the wind

Sharing her invisible

Sweetly to the end


Martinos @ 2018

At Evening’s Fall

Our words were mesmerised, unable at
each attempt to describe the end of day
the sun took its story – a spectacle of hues and
ribbons between gold fire and greyblack crimsons
beyond Wolumbin – reclining grandmother
crag head facing skyward – omniscient
pausing inbreath grandeur

Taking our gaze, the cloud hummers went westerly
tribal souls migrating in unison
their mentor and guide a following breeze
and curiously the stars appeared above them
as if flying in formation against the trend
missiles or satellites – not afraid – in awe
we saluted the spectacle – swaying in silence and wonder




Martinos © 2018


On Funicular Stairs

I climbed down through coastal scrub

Sandstone nub and turkey scratch,

Purposefully counted into the hundreds

And then became distracted for caution

And for possible misstep. On safe arrival

The foreshore held its mysteries

Within wash and cliff and ancient sands,

I did not inquire or pause to study, yet

committed and turned again to climb

knowing afore each rise I would by needs,



Martinos © 2018

Mother’s Stories

Rarely as I recall, in truth,

Did she speak expansively of herself

Or tell us stories of her young adventure

She reserved the detail and the admiration for others,

Others who were remote to me, in interest and in caring,

I never knew, and always assumed she thought them

more worthy or entertaining or greater than herself


And now I wish I’d asked her

And told her this was for me

Furthest from the truth


Martinos @ 2018

Fishing Trip

The fisherman’s mate
Left by the road

Twenty feet back onto the verge
Waited patiently awatch in the shade

Waited adjacent to where
the dinghy and trailer were parked

One side chocked up
One wheel waiting for its mate


Martinos © 2018

After Immersion

You have outstretched arms
You are on the beach
You are receiving the towel that
will wipe the sting of salt and glare away
You are relieved in the moment this occurs
And look back to the waves that have just released you

Later that day after bathing
You recall the moment
Your skin
Your nature
And what has washed away











Martinos © 2018


in the sea

of night

each star

a flood

of light,

the milky way

a riptide

of delight















Martinos  © 2018


Contemplation on Choice

At the centre
Of every thought
Holding, poised to act, if but momentarily
Is Choice

Often unattended
And more often, habitually led
Is Choice

On a filament of fine decision
Delicately placed between this and that
Are the constructions to build or
The consequences to tear down
Worlds, hearts, minds
And all that’s in between

Does my my mind make me? or
Do I make my mind? Or
Is it both together?

My desire, in either case, is to become the agent and the author

The one that knows it knows
The one considered and considering
The one spontaneous
The one informed

The one conscious and aware that it
Is Choice

Martinos @ 2017

The Possibility

In the homecoming


in the barring



of letting go


of craving



at the welcome


at the termination



with waking up


with shutting out



in kindness


in aggression

self harm


upon reflection


upon dogmatism



with helpfulness

endless option

with ill-will





within each experience

the possibility

of discovery



Martinos @ 2017

A Thought

What the mind

Tries to work out

The heart already feels

And the soul has always known

Martinos © 2017

5 Insights for Life

Your thoughts are your prison
Or your prairie

Your body is a signature
Of the decisions you make

Your family
Is humanity

The expanding universe
Is a metaphor for your consciousness

Breath and space in your heart and mind
Becomes an infinite resource


Martinos © 2017

sit with him

for guy

when the child comes to you as the voice of disquiet
will you sit with him? will you hold his heart in yours?
will you say to him – you are loved and i will hear you?
and will you tell him that he can come again
as often as he needs – until a time when he does not?
will you show him love and kindness, and have him know
emerging from that new quietness
you are sure to find the solace and the guidance
you both seek?

martinos © 2017


Her Gift

for J

she has a heart of light

she will touch you
with her radiance

see this, and
you will realise
your own illumination

who is she?


Martinos © 2017

Make Love the Way

Fire the candle
Crack the day
Light of life
Lift and sway

Up step up steep
Up there lit
Up to where
Archangels sit

Make ready song
Septets and airs
A vital throng
To catch our cares

Make ready step
Make ready light
Make peace within
Give love with might

Call an angel
One then two,
Call to bring
The world anew

Fire the candle
Crack the day
Bring love alive
Make love the way


Martinos © 2017


I am real

You feel this

Hold me
If only for a moment
To set me free

I will return

You will and do forget me

Until the moment
When I’m all you need

Like love
I am that viscera
Essential and unseen


Martinos @ 2017

What If?

no matter the obstacle
and all the reasons we find not to;
what if
the true purpose and meaning
of life is quite simply
to witness
to love
and to trust life?

Martinos @ 2017

Poext 31/05 – First Fire

‘First fire’🔥
She wrote
At winter’s edge
Setting pine cones
Twigs and kindling alight
Yet I would say that
Ours is the first fire
First and foremost
Alive, bright and

Martinos @ 2017

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