Poetry Blog by Martin Elder

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Martin Elder on The unchosen path (10 hours ago)

M.C. Newberry on The unchosen path (3 days ago)

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Martin Elder on Alone together (11 days ago)

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Martin Elder on Alone together (11 days ago)

Martin Elder on Alone together (13 days ago)

poemagraphic on Alone together (13 days ago)

Martin Elder on Alone together (13 days ago)

M.C. Newberry on Alone together (Wed, 18 Mar 2020 03:24 pm)

The unchosen path

Do not seek the armpit of distress

Bury your head

Lock the door

Draw the curtains

And pull up the drawbridge of despair

Do not fear the uncertain breeze

Of cough and of sneeze


Be the people you are destined to be

Meet the challenge

Light the light

Of love and of hope

Don’t run like frightened hungry rats

You are not one of a pack

You are part of a fami...

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Alone together

The morning was indifferent to itself

Indistinct, neither one or the other

I thought I was alone in my apartment

Shut off from the world

The sirens were vague

And there was nothing


Then I heard her

The voice of an angel

Singing in another apartment somewhere near

It was then I realised

I wasn’t alone

It was like an aria from heaven


I contacted a frien...

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Mr and Mrs Death

He uses the palms of his hands

To smooth back his hair

Greased and slightly limp

A nervous smile and the hands shake

As he notices as if for the first time

The right forefinger and ring

Are yellowed with the fumbling tax

Of all the years served

with a habit that formed

As old as the years on his face

So many words that he can’t remember

And the tie that he wears


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Do it now

It may not be the Thames or the seine

But let’s drag and pull out the cups and the bottles

The supermarket trolleys

The bikes

Last year’s thing

In last year’s colour

Along with the bodies

The rats and the occasional drowned cat

The bag of kittens

A scarf or a hat

A left-handed mitten


Let’s empty the canal

The rushing river

Let’s pick out the litter


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Close enounters of the third kind

She leans one hand on the bar

The other with fingers and palm

Pressed in to the small of her back

The heavy head she feels

Matches the unrelenting pain across her frame

Stooped and steeped in sudden racked guilt

For the screaming child she has left with her mother

As she tries to raise a smile for each and every customer

Counting off the hours until she can get off her feet


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A winters tale

Christmas is past and gone

And new years just a hang over

For this year’s shining silver angel

Who is tired and found

On her hands and knees

In a back-street patch

Of spotlight infused relief

Bruised and punctured knees

Her hair hangs low

Her breath smells of last night’s stew

And she rises to find a taxi

With little memory left

Of how she found the key


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