Category: Creative Writing

Departed’s Guests

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Poetry

Blasted fury, waking sleep,
It’s maker cannot stand
But in the furnace of its hell
Will all but not command

Of minstrel’s house the luscious speak
They know not lies within
Yet wanting to continue forth
They blindly rushed on in

In muted tones, in deafened words,
With every waking breath
They screamed to open up the grave
And free themselves from death

“Look there!”  They stopped and gazed in front
A chance lay just ahead
They grasped in hopes to leave the crypt
But stayed departed’s guests.

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Little Awe

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Poetry

The waking of the day
The breaking of the night
What rides upon the distant shores
Will shake us all with fright

It brings with it a thunderous clap
Destroying those in wake
It shatters rooftops with one pass
And drowns all those it takes

The standing still will last but naught
There is but little awe
For hatred reigning down in lust
And rattles here, us all.

“Fear not” they say in gentle voice
To those who hear inside
“And know that it will leave us now”
With that, the wind subsides.

Destruction came, it did not last
We shall rise again
To show the world and ourselves
Through all we still will win.

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Books by Marty
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To See The Souls That Ride The Tide

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Poetry

To see the souls that ride the tide
And balance on the wave
They stand to gain all sorts of love
And capture wills that reign

The posting of the colors bring
A tidy sum to all
And posting forth with joyous sights
Will bring a wondrous call

“Shout forth” they sing
“And bring it near” they cry to souls that ride
And there within the festive flair
Will cause all those to strive

They seek to please, to give, to dance
To harken to the knave
And dance they shall with minstrel’s song
Upon the pass-eds’ graves.

Beer’s froth will bounce upon the ground
And give to cats a lick
As those poor minstrels’ fluted looks
Will give them quite a pick.

’Tis not the passing of the night
That brings a wondrous jest
But all that goes before us now
And bids us its request.

Farewell for now, this meet must end
But will not be the last
For ‘morrow brings reunions grand
Even if half-mast.

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Books by Marty
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Lightning Strikes

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Poetry

Lightning strikes upon the earth,
Lightning strikes the few,
Ideas to trample on themselves,
In light of morning dew.

Light proceeds in darkened dawn
And wraps itself inside
There are but few who hear the clap
Of thunder by my side.

The roof shakes down upon my head
And wakes me from my sleep
I know the passing of the day
Is all that I will keep.

Rhymes will form, they always do,
Within my feeble mind,
To understand the things above
For that my thoughts do pine.

With wrinkled brow and passing skin
I seek to see and know
Of how the ever markets work
And passage in the snow.

I hope to be one of the few
That lightning strikes and live
To tell of glory seen and heard
And to the world I’ll give.

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Books by Marty:
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Shadow Cast

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Poetry

Tawdry pay
Ideas unlived,
Gathered thoughts progress.

Stand before
An open heart
None shall feel the less.

Walking out
From the sun,
The places to approach,

And skipping
Every other beat,
The cast will surely show.

Sun come up
Sun go down
Light’ly trav’ling high

The causeway
Of the sun proceeds
‘Cross that light blue sky.

Rocket struck
Upon a star
And stared back into space.

There were but two
Of faceless walls
That gave of such embrace.

No arms to hold
But arms to bear
The shining comes to end

Though ever wanting
To go on
Long’forth won’t contend.

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Books by Marty:
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Earthen Pockets

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Poetry

With kindness of heart
And effervescence of mind,
The man looked around
Into the earthen pockets of humanity
To see if there was still room for him.
When he saw that there was,
Great joy grew in his heart,
And abounding love showed forth
From his eyes,
His words,
And his hands.
The great love of the Father
Catapulted him into the hearts and minds
Of millions
Where,
While resting in the abiding presence of the Almighty
He took to calling each
By name
And by purpose.
Who was this vessel for humanity?
It was you.
It was me.
It was the passing forth of God’s pure love
Through human forms
To other
Human forms.
That bit of humanity
And that bit of transference
Met
Every time that love was shared.

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To the Sky We Seek

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Thoughts

When mortal man walks across terrestrial earth, he looks into the cosmos to see any connection between the learned and the unlearned.  In the heavens, he seeks the answers to his questions.  He sees them, yet has trouble putting the answers into words.  He senses the completeness to his questioning, but is unable to understand.  Complexity detours his understanding, yet he persists anyway, continuing his search to know the unknown.

In the nighttime hours, he walks through his own mind in search of the missing words that will fill in the blanks and complete his thoughts.  He thinks back through all of the information he has poured into over the years, sifting through and sorting its immensity, knowing fully well that once the material makes sense, he can act in complete confidence.  Lack of knowledge will hurt him, as it has in the past.

Yet, when the information is taken in and understood, the grappling will cease and fruition will unfold.  The words are there, if he can find them.  Once the picture is assembled with its stories, background, fore-focus, and imminently important details, the realization of any missing pieces will be reckoned with and acquired.

Oh, the glorious day of understanding!  The joy of the journey!  What a magnificent journey it has been, and what a glorious road it will continue to be!

The sky releases its answers.  The hidden becomes seen.  We stand before the Almighty, and glimpse into the Throne Room, where all shall be revealed.

– — – — – — – — –
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Rake the Coals

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Poetry

Rake the coals
Across the soul
Burn the image in

See the death
That causes all
And live the breath within

Time will stand
To test the brave
To kill the weak and old

It will portray
The oldest stance
And handle all the bold

There is a time
Within each mind
To search, to seek, to win

To hope to be there
On that day
Is the biggest grin

I will forgo
The endless tale
And wrap it up right here

To know my limit
Of the soul
Draws me ever near.

– — – — – — – — –
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Speak

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Missions, Motivational, Thoughts

But if we stand in the doorway, unspeaking the truth of the moment, then we have become as guilty as the tyrants inside.  In those moments any concept of outside matters not, because if we are unwilling to wield the purposes and strength of God inside ourselves, then we are useless to the outside, unseeing world.  We have become like them, lost and confused in the dark – unseeing the future, scared of the loss of light, yet unwilling to do what we know is right.  Walking in the path of righteousness is not only what we are called to do, it is absolutely what we must do on the inside, in order for anything outside to change.  We, the tyrants of our lives, will yield, when the silent doorway-standers speak.

# # #

Thank you, Simon, for the nudge.

Fantastical World at Dusk

Posted on by martyjreep in Creative Writing, Thoughts

Looking out onto the evening dusk, the world opens up and lets us see into its secret places.  Animals move around and go from being quiet to active.  They participate in the grandness we call nature, simply by being who they are and doing what they do.  No one needs to tell them what to do nor even watch them as they go about their business, because they are still who they are, regardless of our observations.

Then why do we observe?  Because it helps us to become better people.  It helps us to appreciate the world around us.  We become better beings because of it, and in return, we are better to them and to each other.

Dusk is not just dusk.  It is a time of renewal.  It opens the doors to the transition period between daylight and dark.  The daylight says goodbye, and the darkness calls us forward.  As we step forward into the momentary blackness, we see a world we have never seen before.  It becomes new to us as we open our minds and allow in the beauty of the black.  Within it, mysterious shapes take on new meaning and become the steadfast points of footing that we call home.  The strange becomes the familiar, and the foreign becomes home.

Fantastical creatures change into realistic people and force their way into our minds through the ready acceptance of all things strange.  We do not have to deny them credence in order to define ourselves, because with or without them, we still are who we are.

Yet, their participation in our lives blends the two worlds and brings about changes manifested in the adherence to the structure of the formless formed.  The fog is lifted, and the night shines forth.

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