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Robert L. Martin

A Special Day

A special day for you and me
and all those who fought for us to be free.
Ever since the advent of all the wars
on land, at sea, and on the shores,
our country’s free from all invaders;
thanks to our servicemen and all the sailors.
 
This special day is for us to remember;
on this day, the eleventh of November.

I wrote this for the Belt and Beyond.

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Grace C Chacón León
Altre opere di Robert L. Martin...
Kissing the Devil

Into the fires of the dark holes, Through the valleys of the Sodomi… On red hot roads paved in blood, The land of the dead but the livin… Felines crawling out from the rock…
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Doodads

Doodads abounding piling on top swirling around the literati world conundrums accumulating piling on conundrums the maze of the cell phone doodads
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Jet Stream

For your unseen valleys and banks, lofted currents and sparkling wate… darting between the emerald rocks, we dream of streams close enough to dip our feet in and chase away
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Third Day Rising

The third day rising from the tomb… The ascension from an empty room, A life anew from a life expired, Rising in the sky, a sky bound fli… An image on a sunlit Easter morni…
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The Edges

The world outside my window, sometimes big, sometimes small, sometimes reaching all the way to the tops of the glistening hill… that border the world’s edge,
String Team

Orchestral string players, devoted… placing it in high regard, lovers of teamwork, fraternal harm… one music family undivided, each supported by the other,
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Attention to Details

Orchestral swells to the common ma… a swooping unnoticed and unheard, a race to the highest peak, eliding over the intricate notes, skipping over tender moments,
Sally and her Boy Toys

Sweet little Sally playing with h… her mommies and daddies and all he… and boys and girls being moved up… in her pretty pink doll house in a… making her cute little dolls obey…
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Satanic Air

Air of the pure blown away as the devil breathed upon the ear… his puffy cheeks full of poison extracted from lethal streams flowing from from his ghoulish hea…
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The Link to the Past

An ode to all artists who paint the life as it is, the times as they are, the fashions, the architecture, the modes of transportation,
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Aesthesia

Galleries in the skies near and fa… that float under the empyrean, drifting through the clouds, showering the morning with golden necklaces and shiny pearls
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The Selection

From the busy skies, or bellowing… or whistling winds, or forest nymp… or cathartic fires, or emancipated… someone or something picked me out… me among the crowded streets,
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The String Machine

The recording studio in the East Village of New York City had all the latest digital equipment. All the musicians who recorded there just loved it. The engineer was a fine musician hi...
The Departure

The certainty of life is its expir… The certainty of expiration is its… As the earth bows to the sun, the… The giver and taker away of Summer’s temporary life, as the
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The Dominator

All systems working at their mazim… Rudiments forgotten but yet utiliz… Developed as a finely tuned machin… Locked inside the vault, the spiri… Foaming at the bit like a wild ste…
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