Pepi Martin | POETRY

All times 2018 2017 2016 2015 2014 2013 2012

Regrets

Regrets, we all have
Some major, others minor
Oftentimes the mind gets crowded with
“if only’s” and “I wish”
That’s the norm

Regrets belong to the past
Unwelcome guests in the “now”
Lessons learned not to repeat
Thoughts stored in a box marked “obsolete”
That’s how it should be.

Limassol, July 2018

Lady Diana

Born a Lady
Died a Lady

Prince charming asked her hand
Heart fluttered
With a shy smile she said “Yes”
Fairy-tale wedding followed

Adorned by a diamond tiara
Lady became a Princess
She was put on a pedestal
Showered with adoration near and afar

Life dealt the cards
She was Queen of Hearts
He was Jack of Spades
Alas Queen of Spades present too

He broke her heart to smithereens
She tried hard to piece them together
‘They’ expected of her to ‘carry on.’
But she was defiant and resolute

She walked away from the sham partnership
She chose not to be part of the stifling triquetra
She was worthy of love and respect
Sadly he never reciprocated her love

Her gift to the nation, two adoring Princes
Unconditional love given to them in abundance
And lots of cuddles too that she never had
Taught them to be connected with mankind

The diadem and the given title taken away
‘They’ forgot that she was born a Lady
She was left with two sons, her precious gems
who will always love their fun-loving Mum

She lived with a broken heart
But it never stopped her emitting love
She will remain “Queen of Hearts”, always
Watching over her loved ones and this planet of ours

May God bless your soul, Lady D
You are in the hearts of many
True stars never die
They’ll always shine

Born a Lady
Died a Lady.

Limassol, April 2018

Silent Movies

Silent movies of the past
are reality of the modern time

Once upon a time
People used to talk to each other
The art of conversation ever present
Storytelling was part of daily life, the norm

Grandma narrated a story to the young and old
The tale was from her book of life
Some pages told time after time
One chapter always left out,
tucked away in the deepest crevice of her heart

The teahouse crowded with regulars
Smokey atmosphere and steamed windows
Samovar in the corner making a statement
Aromatic black tea filled in glass cups over and over
Travelling Sufi in awe of Shams Tabrizi and Rumi
On the stage talked about Love of God, Truth and Light vs Darkness

Shall we blame the modern lifestyle ?
Going for fast options, all false and hollow
Where communications are paperless
Letters and cards are a thing of the past
Trash offers are new tenants of our mailboxes

Silent movies of the past
are reality of the modern time.

Limassol, July 2017

What Was The Story?

This book was like no other
Sitting on the shelf
Catching eyes effortlessly
Adorned by an exquisite cover
It said “admire me”

A heart shaped lock was part of this book
The key missing on the shores of Zanzibar
What was the story?
Was it one of sorrow or mystery, who knows?

Oh my my
This book had a name
It was called
“I, the Master”
A lonely universe for a Ruler.

Limassol, April 2017

This Promised Land of Ours

What happened to this promised land of ours?

It was meant to be heavenly
A land of peace and harmony
Living alongside, respect and tolerance the norm
The school of thoughts of a spiritual realm
Kindness, solicitude and empathy the motto

We cannot have heaven and hell side by side
Thought the new wave brought the walls down
Alas the unsightly walls are built anew
These walls are painted with messages of truth and hope
Sadly a dark truth in parallel with yearning light

No-man’s land is like a love pulled apart by two lovers
A sore reminder is the split capital:
A once-divided capital became one,
only for another to remain
A cauldron full of Approvals and Rejections

Barbed wires are erected to halt the march
But there is no stopping this modern-times exodus
Yet ask any present-time nomad of this plight
Hand placed on his heart he’ll say
“I wish I could stay where I came from”

Desert marches of the present are 1915 déjà vu
An empire is still in denial for atrocities of ancient past
Shameless past has still support of faithful allies
Regretfully, genocides recur to no one’s surprise.

Limassol, January 2017

Liquid Diamonds

Diamonds are pouring down
There is no stopping them
These diamonds are priceless
They are not from the mines of Africa
They are as deep as Cohen’s poesy

Past tries to forget
Present bears it, just
Future ponders what will be
Liquid diamonds are streaming down

You try to gather them but to no avail
They just run away like mercury
Mind in utter havoc
Trapped in the desert island

Sinking feeling
Gut wrenched with agony
Heart devoid of love but longing for one
Untold regrets of all descriptions.

Limassol, November 2016

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