Thursday, 17 January 2013


The house lies quiet, silent, save for one solitary footfall
Echoing in the silence the weary tread stalks these halls
Each step announcing its arrival in the rooms now dimmed
Moonlight casting shadows of the man that once was him
Polished floors groan and creak as each foot caresses it
And in the dark of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Glasses sparkle in the flicker of the moonlight’s wonder
Gentle caresses as they touch sound increasingly like thunder
Amber nectar swirls in the glass as he pours without a care
The drink of god’s it was, and he raises his salute in the air
Throwing open his throat he drowns his sorrows deep within it
And in the dark of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Shining like a beacon the beauty flickers in the shadows
Polished reflections dancing brightly as the fire glows
His gentle touch caresses her, strokes her polished frame
Grasps her firmly in his hand, hums a lullabies refrain
As he reaches for the bottle and the joy contained within it
In the darkness of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Welcome warmth of glowing fireplace spits embers to the floor
That smoulder softly in the twilight, fade and burn no more
Leather-bound he sits encased in arms of sure protection
Gazing at the vacuum that surrounds him ponders sweet reflection
Watching dreams within the flames frolic now as they see fit
In the darkness of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Glancing at the hearth carved frame of wood leads his eyes
To the images and memories of his family and their lives
Grand children as they played happily in fine winter snow
Birthday celebrations with their grinning faces all aglow
Loving wife and caring son lives full of passion and pure grit
As the darkness fills the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Country walks and fireside talks, bold bright adventures in the sun
Cottages and castles, each and every moment savoured one by one
Smiling deep within, every loving memory sheds another tear
Every image that he conjures from the flames that burn, so clear
Reaching for the welcome bottle and the life contained within it
As the darkness fills the room he pours his final fine Glenlivet

Flames falling ever lower turn the room to dark of night
Slowly wandering his memories meander to that sight
House and life are empty devoid of reason and of soul
Drunken carnage on the road smashing all that once was whole
Ironic glass within his hand he curses stupid drunken fools
Grasping tight upon his polished beauty, his trigger finger pulls

© Fergus Martin

Friday, 11 January 2013

Dearest “Friend”

How could I be so stupid? 
How could I be so blind?
How was it that I could not see how wonderfully intelligent
you have become in such a short time.
The vast intellect that you possess and display on a daily basis both
and amazes me.
I am in awe at the keen incisiveness of your mind
and the overpowering intellect that you possess.
Your viewpoint on the world today are insightful
and delightful.

You sir,  are truly an overwhelming force of nature and
my experiences pale
to nothing beside yours to such an extent that I begin to doubt my own worth.
Every word that you utter is heard by oh so many and even
the dumbest person on this planet
learns something from you on a daily basis.
I would be amazed if they did not such is the power of your words
that you have surely become a god amongst men as your
originality and perception become the norm
and is repeated and shared amongst your

All my experiences, all my learning has all been for nothing
as it becomes clear that you were
born naturally far more gifted than any other person on this planet
The power of your brain enthrals me on a daily basis,
the incisiveness of your wit delights me and I am left
by my sheer lack of cognisance in all matters.

It amazes me that all those employers as you rightly say
fail to see the greatness in you, proving once more
that this planet is yours and yours alone.
They are wrong, and I remain utterly convinced that one
of the thousands of applications you send on a daily basis
will eventually bear fruit as I am sure you will
find employment within a like-minded world
as it eventually falls into line with your vision of correctness.

My own imperfections and ineptitude in all matters forces me to make a
heartfelt choice since I am no longer worthy of being in your company,
nor you in mine
I wish you luck.

A former follower

© Fergus Martin

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

The Trident

In the frozen ice capped
Mountains high above Valgur
The three ice cold tips
Of the mighty spear are formed
Glistening brightly on the
Shoulders of the hillside
With each rising sun
They are warmed

On separate crests they weave
Seamlessly binding as one
With the tines of the spear
The infant forks of Poseidon
Winding on their stem unnoticed
Unheralded in their existence
Save for beasts that they nourish
Whose lives they forever brighten

Where the forks meet they converge
And their strength becomes pooled
Harnessed power in triplicate moving
As one channelled in motion
Villagers bow in their presence
Vowing fealty to all that they bring
As their tines are pitched in the meadow
They proffer undying devotion

Bound as they are to the staff
Tines power transferred to the hilt
Where it drives forward with every stride
Giving nurture to all that it meets
Harnessing nature’s resources
Poseidon’s symbol of life weaves its way
Crashing into the lap of it’s god
The Trident its father it greets

© Fergus Martin

Friday, 4 January 2013


If dreams were wishes
I’d wish only for you
If wishes were thoughts
I’d think only of you
If thoughts were words
I’d speak only of you
If words were actions
I’d act only for you
If actions were cravings
I’d crave only you
If cravings were desires
I’d desire only you
If desires were feelings
I’d feel only for you
If feelings were dreams

© Fergus Martin

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

Just Another Day

The shrill scream shatters the cold morning silence
as the sound of a cat being throttled drifts through the window.
But soon the faltering feline regains her haltering voice
sweetly lamenting the loss of a lover in times gone past.

As he gazes wistfully into the day, a flash of gold catches his eye
as it swoops towards the unharvested yellow fields of bounty.
Returning to the sky clasping its prey tightly in powerful talons
another meal for the grasping mouths of the next generation

In the distance the river bounces over a floor of weathered stones
twisting and dashing down the path to the great beyond.
The salmon will leap up its path during the coming season
dancing merrily towards the ancestral breeding grounds of hope.

As the clouds slowly darken over, grey clouds threaten to erupt
but pass to nothing as the golden orb rises from its slumber.
As it warms the rustling dew laden leaves of the small wood on the hill,
they reach out and unfurl in the welcoming bright dawn.

The howl of the wolf shakes him from his blissful reverie
as he cries out to his lifelong companion and welcomes the morn.
He turns from the page and abandons the thoughts in his head
seeks out sustenance for all and so begins another perfect day.

© Fergus Martin