Wednesday, 12 November 2014

It Didn't Seem Important

It didn't seem important, but it was to become the most important sound he'd ever heard. And yet, at the time he heard it, he had no idea of what would unfold, how his life would be turned upside down by the noise, nor how he would come to dread hearing it.

The dog barked and stared at him with doleful eyes, and he knew exactly what he wanted, out. Staring at the view outside his window, Hamish groaned and walked to the closet. Donning the heaviest jacket he could find, he reached for the leash and Poseidon erupted. A thirty pound ball of fury engulfing him in pleasure.

"Sit doon ya daftee, or Ah''ll no git the bloody leash oan, and wi'll no be goan oanywhaur"

They crunched down the gravel path and turned left into the lane leading to the woods, past the newly ploughed fields, looking vibrant and healthy before the winter's frost set in. A frost that would turn them cold and hard. He shivered thinking about another winter in this tranquil valley, far from the madding frenzy of the city. Quiet, peaceful, home. And so, off they went for their constitutional, past the fields, into the woods on the hills. He let Poseidon off the leash, and he walked, lost in reverie at the beauty that surrounded him.

He considered himself lucky. Lucky to have landed in this neck of the woods, lucky to have his family, lucky to have his dogs, lucky to have his life, just all around lucky. Puddles rippled with falling raindrops as man and beast trudged on through the avalanche of water falling all around. Cloud covered hills stretched into the distance, the first of the winter storms nestled just over the horizon, waiting to unleash it's venom on the valley. But for now it sat there, silently threatening.

And so the boys trudged back to the empty house. The fire was on, but the logs were burning low.

"Best git yoan fire stoaked up afore the ithers git back boy"

Poseidon shook, and the walls splattered with the mud from his wanderings.

"Haw you, ya daftee, noo Ah goat tae clean yoan aff."

Poseidon shook again. Hamish shook his head and laughed to himself. He was lucky.

An hour later, things were calm. The walls had been cleared of the mud of Poseidon's pleasure, the fire had been stoked and the first glass of Macallum had been poured. They should have returned from their trip, but Hamish wasn't worried. It was a trip to his mother's after all, and the kids were always pleased to see her and let the pup run riot through her herb garden. He'd pay for that in the morning when she rang to bemoan the fact. He could hear the words now;

"Hamish, you really need to talk tae yir bairns aboot respecting ither folk's things"

As the phone rang, Hamish smiled inwardly.

"Hamish, it's Lachlan at the station. There's been a terrible accident"

Saturday, 1 November 2014


"The great abyss waits for the souls of the undeclared"

Windows shuttered to the world outside,
doors forever sealed against the pain,
empty chambers whisper tales of longing,
mortal souls lost in the corridors of hell.

"The emptiness of time will blind the un-enlightened"

Runes that speak loud to darkened hearts,
words dancing in the grim of evermore,
resounding in their sad unspoken truth
reminisce on the shadows of the past.

"Oblivion awaits the undecided"

Path leading forward going nowhere,
stationary crossroads seeks direction,
way ahead re-routes unto itself,
journey without end begins again.

"All will be tested, few will be spared"

Over and again he read the words,
fragments of his life flowed in their meaning,
stagnant in the boundaries of his mind,
over and again he failed to see.

© Fergus Martin

Nov 2014

Thursday, 16 October 2014

"Two Months - Was That All"

What follows was a 500 word challenge which had to start with the title phrase.

"Two Months - Was That All"

Two months, was that all? It felt like a lifetime. And it was a living hell.

All roads lead to Rome, he read. "What a pile of shite" thought Hamish. "I mean the road from Braemar to Spittal goes to Spittal and Braemar, doesn't go anywhere near fucking Rome. Ok, it goes to Aberdeen and Blairgowrie but neither of them are anywhere near Rome, are they?"

His mind was wandering all over the place, well, it would do that after being awake for 3 days straight. Wasn't the first time recently that this had happened, was becoming all too familiar, a pattern that had been developing for too long now. He reached for his bottle and drowned another shot of Macallum.

And as for all the arty farty brigade saying that this was a path he had to travel, a journey he had to make, what a load of pyscho babbling twaddle and platitudes. This was no path, no journey, this was a nightmare, this was pain, this was hell. This is what his life had become.

"Hell" he said out loud, staring at the logs spitting flames into the night sky. A sky dotted with lights suspended in the dark. "Aye, when that bugger freezes over, maybe it'll be over, maybe it won't" He was burbling again, a man balanced on the edge of life, all hope gone, left alone in isolation and desperation. He'd stopped working and started drinking, drinking to remember, drinking to forget, and all the while lost in a world he thought had abandoned him.

Well, not the whole world, there was still Poseidon. Good old Poseidon, great lumbering beast of a dog, who lay now calmly on the grass on the opposite side of the fire, doleful eyes reflecting the emptiness that consumed Hamish. Ears pricking up at the sound of Hamish's voice, he raised himself and dropped his tired body at his masters feet. He too was alone now.

Hamish stared at the moon till the logs became nothing more than a pile of smouldering ash. He shivered. "C'mon ya auld bugger. Let's get in afore we freeze oor nuts aff" Poseidon trotted behind him as he closed the patio doors, shutting out the world for another night. Poseidon flopped on the rug as Hamish moulded himself into his seat by the fire. His seat, the one that had always been his and his alone. No-one, but no-one had been allowed to sit there. The man of the house's seat, the father's seat, the husband's seat.

As he stared at the mantelpiece above him he reflected upon the stark reality as the picture looked down. In 8 weeks, this house has gone from being full of life with 5 adults and two dogs. And now there was only him and Poseidon and Macallum. His life had turned full circle since the accident and it would be some time before it turned again. He reached for the bottle and drained another shot of Macallum.

© Fergus Martin

Sept 2014

Of Blood and Sacrifice

Scarlet shines the crimson light,
Moving silent through the night,
Slips between twisted boughs,
Dreams vanish without shadows
Wolves chase the scarlet moon,
Await the feast they will consume
Howl in the dark remain unseen
Breathless whispers in a savage scene

Daggers float over sacred alters
Rivers flow with bloodied waters
Unploughed fields weep in silent prayer
Hungry pack seeks welcome fair
Pronouncements made and blades rise
Enraptured voices raise loud their cries
Carven crows now cow in reverence
Supplicants who seek deliverance

Silence broken by distant screams
Trickle of red on the surface gleams
Breaking through it drops beneath
Lost in pools of disbelief
Sacrificial lambs now slaughtered
Souls to ancient masters offered
Vows renewed and carnage craved
The end of days for now, delayed

© Fergus Martin

Oct 2014

Wednesday, 17 September 2014


I have been many places,
Seen many things
I have worn many faces,
Done many things

All are present in the palm of my hand
Lifeless image bereft of emotion
Soulless eyes stare from the screen
Ingrained is the image reflected
Hidden in the orbs of anonymity
Soul bleeding straight from the heart
Insignificance caught in a moment
Those eyes tell the tale of their past

Portrayed in the grey pallored skin
Is a being I don't recognise
Lines that are carved in reflection
Life driven by riddles and lies
As I stare at the detail before me
The truth swirls around on the screen
What I've become is not what I was
Where I have gone is not where I've been

The journey this sadness has travelled
Laid bare at the press of a button
Flash of the light and it's captured
Caught at this moment in time
Cold image that's now staring back
Sees through the eyes that gaze on
Veil of pretence has been shattered
And with the push of a finger, is gone.

© Fergus Martin

Sep 2014

Monday, 1 September 2014

Unspoken Words

The mind whirls and the thoughts race,
flowing through the consciousness.
A white-water rapid of imaginings,
streaming over waterfalls of circumstance.

All the things you want to say, the truths you want to tell.
You know this time, you know it well.

Another night when sleep is a memory,
a nightmare lost in a forest of dreams.
An illusion woven into tangled branches,
thoughts like leaves blown on Autumn gales.

The dreams you wish to share, the rage you wish to vent.
You know this time, your discontent.

First world problems cycle as you turn endlessly,
every minor detail magnified tenfold in the dark.
Every sinew of your body shaking in disdain,
every jangling nerve playing tunes inside your head.

The pages of your mind hide scripts never to be seen.
You know this time, words scream unsaid.

Finally succumbing to the sanctity of peace,
till whispers in the dawn draw you from your reverie.
The other side of morning draws you to the surface,
to face another day of mindless whisperings.
Another day scratching a living whilst others gloat,
hiding within their sacred towers of self-righteousness.
Staying silent for the fear of vitriolic retribution,
stumble through another day on fractured eggshells.
Retreating behind the fortress walls you have built,
to the safety of silence and a blanket of dreams.

Dreams of peace abandoned as you await another morn.
The peace that never comes, the time that comes again

© Fergus Martin

Aug 2014

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

When Darkness Falls

When darkness falls,
I will see no light,
a shadow no longer cast,
the veil will be drawn.

When darkness falls,
the silence will sing
symphonies unheard,
that echo in the void.

When darkness falls,
I will be consumed,
swallowed at that moment,
fading from reality.

When darkness falls,
the storm will cease,
breathless whisper's stop,
the quiet calm.

When darkness falls
this dream will end,
mere memory in the past,
a distant thought.

When darkness falls,
where silence reigns,
when the storm is done,
the light will shine.

© Fergus Martin

Aug 2014

Friday, 22 August 2014

In The Attic

Rafters whistle with winter winds,
old chairs rock quiet in the eaves,
grooves flickering in twilight shadows,
contemplating destiny.

Cardboard boxes lined in rows,
childhoods sit securely sealed,
locked in time for future playgrounds,
frozen temporarily.

Images framed in the dust of time,
forever still in captured moments,
forgotten treasure awaiting plunder,
creating immortality.

Cases full of worn out tapes.
films we watched repeatedly,
now unwatched they gather dust,
in silent tranquillity.

Lamps that flickered in the dark,
forever dimmed their light has shone,
no more to brighten up the room,
outdated inefficiency.

A lifetime's memories lie hidden,
stored away for safekeeping,
held in stasis by the past,
dreams in perpetuity.

© Fergus Martin
Aug 2014

The Questions Will Come One Day

She wept as she kissed him goodbye,
brushing her hand across his forehead one last time,
knowing that she will never be his heroine,
never again hold him,
cherish him,
love him.

Her heart lay carved open on the floor,
ripped apart by the depth of her love,
glancing back she watched as he breathed,
seeing her lifetime flash before her,
in that moment she knew she was right,
this was his only hope for salvation,
his only chance of dreams,
without her he would flourish,
without her he would live.

Turning away she slipped quietly from the room,
tears falling from eyes coloured red with the pain,
the suffering she had gone through,
to reach this point,
this decision,
this time.

She would never again see the laughter in his eyes,
his future was not now hers to share,
her past would be one she could never regret,
never wallow in the dreams of what may have been,
tied to sentimentality,
this was right,
this was what had to be done..

Soon he would forget the smell of her skin,
the bond that had tied them together,
the pain that she had suffered for him,
she would slip quietly into his past,
and he would never remember,
she would never forget,
and one day she hoped,
one day, she prayed,
he may seek her out,
seeking answers to questions not yet sentient,
one day she knew the child she left would become a man.
And she would be ready to love him again.

© Fergus Martin
Aug 2014

Thursday, 21 August 2014

Ride Till Dawn

Dormant village green
Silent in the hidden vale
Moonlight growls with life
Shattering night's sanctuary
Calm driven from its lair
Memories crumble into dust

Calm driven from its lair
Memories crumble into dust
Eyes forged from steel
Skin cloaked in leather
Freedom is your open road
As you ride the iron horse

Freedom is your open road
As you ride the iron horse
Thoughts tumble in the saddle
Biting hard on weathered skin
Your redemption is the night
Darkened soul set free

Your redemption is the night
Darkened soul set free
Letting loose your dogs of war
Setting free the nightmares
Racing down the highway
Chasing down a future

Racing down the highway
Chasing down a future
Horrified by things long past
The man no longer recognised
Clad in leather, eyes of steel
A nomad lost in time

Clad in leather, eyes of steel
A nomad lost in time
Wandering life's highways
Seeking hope at every turn
Merest glimpse of what could be
The demons keep subdued

Merest glimpse of what could be
The demons keep subdued
Nightly ride-out clears the path
True hopes surface clear
Moonlight fading fast
Still riding with the sunrise

© Fergus Martin

Aug 2014

Saturday, 9 August 2014

Big Tree Country

Alive within Big Tree Country
Shades of green catch the eye
Fingers reaching to the heavens
Bound to earth with solidity
Where royalty once was crowned
In a palace on an ancient stone
Warrior kings of a nation proud
Fair Maiden as its centre-point
Battles fought upon its fields
Tales from Crieff to Killiecrankie
Of rebels and their freedom fight
And princes loyal to the land
As history evolved in time
So the maid changed her tune
Remained the centre of it all
Evolving with flow and ebb
Maid that dances on the Tay
Sprinting out to waters north
Taking out the harvests fair
Bringing home the traveller
In mud and rain it's people toiled
To scratch a living from its heart
Jute and berries, sweat and blood
The fair maiden drives it all
Going north you'll meet her
You cannot pass out with her sight
At the centre of the land she stands
With open arms she'll greet you
When you step into her valleys
Her heart will show the wonders
Of her pleasures dark and bright
The Big Tree Country standing tall

© Fergus Martin

Aug 2014

Thursday, 31 July 2014


Nuts and bolts
The tiniest of threads
holding everything together
creating art
creating wonder
creating society
holding the parts together
allowing the world to grow
to develop
to advance
Nuts and Bolts
cogs driving the wheels
that turn the key
in unlocking the great wonders
of the planet
the great mysteries of the depth
Nuts and bolts
little nuts and bolts joined together
fused in union
joined in harmony
creating existence
Building the wonders of man
the carbuncles that sprout
in streets no longer
paved in gold
but in the sweat blood and tears of man
Broken apart the nuts turn to rust
bolts fall by the wayside
and are lost in the quicksand
of confusion
Cogs that no longer turn, seize,
failing to generate the power
required to turn the wheels
the world they built
the art they created
Without them the world is nothing

© Fergus Martin

July 2014

Balancing Act

There are those that say
All men are evil
There are those that say
All women are bitches
I would hazard a guess
Somewhere in the middle
There lies the truth

There are many believe
Their religion is righteous
Some have opinions
In direct opposition
Probably true to say
Somewhere in the middle
There lies the truth

There are those that think
All politicians are criminal
Then there's those that believe
That this cannot be so
In a twist of reality
Somewhere in the middle
There lies the truth

There are those that believe
That there press is unbalanced
On the opposite fence
Sit those in conspiracy
Plain for those that can see
Somewhere in the middle
There lies the truth

If the truth is not yours
Then all you believe is a lie
And you delude yourselves
All you believe is the truth
As you roam the extremes
Alone in the middle
The truth lies waiting

© Fergus Martin

July 2014

Saturday, 12 July 2014

The Lost Years

With a pocketful of dreams
he stepped out from the innocence of adolescence
and into the insecurity of an adulthood uncharted.
Hopes and dreams stretch out before him
a never ending carpet of experiences waiting.
Achievements that he sought to attain,
a legacy he'd lay down for his descendants,
a future full of excitement and wonders,
His path lay before him unbridled from fear,
his childhood behind him, fresh in his mind.
Adulthood ahead, with its abundance of promise.

With a hatful of memories
he stepped quietly into the obscurity of dotage
a lingering shadow of the man he once was.
Thoughts slipping into nothing
evaporating amidst the clouds of confusion.
Memories that were no longer his,
forgetting all that he had accomplished,
remembering triumphs that were not his to share.
His life drifted away in clouded dreams,
fleeting glimpses of childhood remained.
Adulthood lived, yet now forgotten.

© Fergus Martin

July 2014

Monday, 7 July 2014


The storm raged on the horizon, black clouds,
dark as his soul, gathered themselves to strike
their vengeance upon the shore. He steeled himself,
waiting the inevitable tirade, the onrush of
cataclysmic power that was headed his way.
His storm was brewing.

It was coming for him and him alone.

As he dug his unshod sodden feet into the damp,
he remembered when it was not always like this,
he recalled better times, smiled at the storm and welcomed it,
raising his hands to the skies, he embraced it. As it
lashed down upon him, his freedom was secure.

His release was final, This was his storm

He had waited this moment for weeks, steeling
himself for the right time, the right conditions,
and now, he would give himself fully to the
storms that engulfed his life. This beach was his
sacrificial altar, his last final farewell, his act of attrition
for one moment of forgetfulness, one error in a
life of calamity. It was now or never.

This was his storm.

© Fergus Martin

July 2014

Saturday, 5 July 2014


The key to your heart hangs round your neck,
a golden trinket that remains untouched. As it falls
gently across your pale skinned shallow breathing breast,
each gentle tap reminds you of what has not been,
and may never come to fruition. The slow rise, and fall,
of the broken heart that beats within pounds on the ears,
like the thunder of a midsummer storm, tumultuous
in its extremity, yet gentle in its silence. Locked to
the world, imprisoned in the chains of your making,
you reveal nothing, content this perfect solitude,
this lasting peace will never be disturbed, will remain
untouched and unsullied. The door to your soul will
never be unlocked, your inner thoughts will
never be revealed. The dark shroud of mystery you
hide behind will always conceal the meaning of you,
always shelter you from the storm that rages
within, and without. You will be forever silent,
forever clutching at the key, forever waiting for the
hand that will release you.

© Fergus Martin

July 2014

Friday, 4 July 2014

Taking The Dark Road

The box that held your dreams lay open
A void in the future you cannot hope to realise
Empty is the solitude that sparkles in your eyes
The path you hoped to take is now blocked

Sweet whispering torments a shallow soul
Voices calling out for long-lost freedom
Shackled by your dreams they are not heard
Tortured by the bitter heart you follow

As moonlight dances on the darkened pool
The burden that you carry pulls you under
Reflecting on the innocence of fantasy
You sit in quiet contemplation of the past

Staring at the future as your present passes
Fate swings its fearful axe upon your destiny
Shackled to your dreams you've lost the way
Lost in the chaotic carnage of your dreams

The path that you must follow opens wide
Reaching out its sympathetic tendrils
The wanderlust of romance now forsaken
You step inside the realm of poisoned souls

At once alive but dead in all but being
No more the fool that's painted gaudy bright
Cloaked in darkness now you stalk the night
Your nightmares demon comes to sweet fruition

© Fergus Martin

July 2014

Sunday, 29 June 2014

Wasted Years

All those years
All that time
Every waking hour

Those college hours
That study time
A chance to grow

Summer's days
Winter's nights
Relaxing moments

That first job
A chance in life
Dead end role

All that time
All those years
You spent your life

 © Fergus Martin

Jul 2014

Friday, 27 June 2014

Scattered Voices

I’m proud to announce that Scattered Voices: A Collection of Poems Shared by Strangers on the Internet is now available. Currently the book is available for purchase on Createspace and Amazon. If you’d prefer a PDF copy it is currently available for free at the publisher, Rotting Horse Publishing. Whether you are buying a copy or downloading a free copy a review on Amazon or Goodreads would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your support of independent arts.

Sunday, 22 June 2014

Storm Dreamer

The sudden clap of thunder shakes me,
rattles me loose from the reverie of memory,
snaps me into the here and now,
and the reality that surrounds me.

Bottled up memories pour from the glass,
a tidal wave of recognition of what is no more,
flowing freely through a tangled mind,
flooding the depths of time that has past.

Rain bounces on the concrete covered path,
brick by sodden brick another thought decays,
crumbling into the dust of yesterday,
building on the thoughts of what we had.

Clouds move across the sky in darkness,
threatening to explode with every movement,
reflection of the pressure built inside,
mirroring the soul that's full of sadness.

Flooded rivers run their ragged course,
driftwood just like memories washed away,
once solid banks are ripped to ragged pieces,
my story seeps slowly through open pores.

Staring at the scene,
the violence of the vista subsides,
memories cloaked in darkness disappear,
sunlight breaks upon the day.

© Fergus Martin

June 2014

Saturday, 21 June 2014

Black Knight

From a shoot that was pure grew a heart of evil
An embittered soul at war with themselves
Reaching out for reason found only confusion
And a world that spun in endless collusion

You are alive in this nether world
A realm so justifyingly righteous to you
You are oblivious to the discontent you breed
Ignorant of the world beyond your blinkered sight

Black heart pumping with crimson venom
Twisted mind spews out contorted truths
Your twisted words regurgitate the illusion
Immoral compass spins and spins again

Blinded by belief in this unfathomed hell
Drowning in the wisdom of the unwise
A pawn to the kings and queens of misery
Unheralded knight in the playground of chaos

Spiral in the endless depths of indifference
You cannot return to the origin of reason
Soul entrenched in the resentment of honesty
Lost in a world ruled by malevolence

The fear that you raise will never be slain
The realm that you worship never alive
The pain you inflict will never be healed
Your soul is lost as the world turns again

© Fergus Martin

June 2014