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The Poetry of Trade Martin
*****
THE BUBBLE
by Trade Martin
The coffee pot perked early,
Its cover bouncing joyfully,
As I brushed my teeth,
While my eggs were in the microwave,
Listening to the traffic report,
And watching the clock closely,
I cleared my throat and began to vocalize,
A fire truck sped pass the house,
With its sirens blaring,
Then I received the call,
My session was canceled,
Thank God, I smiled, undressed,
And quickly went back to sleep! ! !
Trade Martin, 2008.
*****
RUSTED MINDS LIKE AN APOCRYPHAL CLICHÉ
by Trade Martin
Silent heroin must drip in their veins,
But even that wont bring them ecstasy,
One could NEVER improve THEIR writing,
Which is not distinctive and actually,
Needs a transplant of creativity! ! !
Shock treatments might be promising,
But even a whiff of Buddha’s methane,
Couldn’t make their masquerading spirits dissolve,
The dried-up, iron oxide residue that they contain,
In the trite section of their corroded brain! ! !
What they’ll say, as the gospels "light of day",
Are only foolish opinions to be thrown away,
Because these Rusted Minds Are Like An Apocryphal Cliche! ! !
Trade Martin, 2008.
*****
EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED FROM ME
by Trade Martin
It must be how the spirit moves me,
Be it morning night or day,
As Im composing a melody,
Writing an arrangement or a score,
In between recording a vocal,
On a hot new song Ive produced,
Adding instruments to a track,
Working on a lyrical treatment,
And sometimes even more,
Like a comedy dialogue,
Fiction novel or a script,
It never gets to be a bore,
Cause in the midst of it all,
I'll get a concept for a poem or two,
And I’ll type it into Word for you,
Copy & post it on the site for all,
To read and see,
And you’ll notice that there's never,
Any real subject consistency,
Because whether it’s writing,
Arranging or performing,
Like my friends all say and agree,
With all my passion and stupidity,
There's no doubt you can always,
Expect The Unexpected From Me! ! !
Trade Martin, 2007.
*****
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