Rooftop Poetry Club - Paul Martin

Paul Martin

Bio:
I graduated with my undergrad in English Education in 2002 and am currently a Public Relations Management major in my post graduate work. I teach a P.E. Self Defense class at Erie Community College, Voice Act as a free lance vendor, attend classes at BuffState, and play "Mr. Mom" to my two boys of 15 years and 6 months old (Yes that is correct a near 15 year age gap....).

In terms of writing, as an English Teacher I spent more time teaching the nuts and bolts that producing my own work over the last few years, but I took Steven Street's Creative Writing class and really enjoyed the reunion with the muse, so to speak. I have attached two poetic samples for your review.

Poems:

The Post-Modern Shaman

Synchronicity

"We need to talk..."
"You’re so dramatic; it feels like a break up.."
I think we’re going too fast,
I didn’t even want to go out with you, you know

I should have been more careful.
You chased me. Do you think this is a mistake?
I didn’t mean for it to be this way.
You think I’M a mistake!?! You chased me.

I should have used my head instead of...
Was it just sex?
...not that the physical stuff wasn’t good.
The physical stuff was good

Not that I don’t care about you.
because I thought you cared.
It’s just that I’m so busy right now,
I love the time we spend together.

And this relationship is getting so big
Our relationship feels like a safe place from the world.
It’s just too much responsibility
It’s nice having someone to take care of...

right now, it just feels like it’s a burden
...and take care of me back.
So we can still get together
What are we doing?

I just want to be friends, that’s all
Oh God,I think we’re breaking up...
"Um...;et me call you later."
"Sure...call me later."

bird

I watch a bird framed in a silvered pane.
I know we can only be through this glass,
to reach for her would mar her gentle heart.

For me, sometimes, she flirts and sings, to show
we two are joined, apart, in courtly dance.
I watch a bird framed in a silvered pane.

Through leaded glass I sing my own song too.
I leave, for her, gifts where she makes her dance;
to reach for her would mar her gentle heart.

Will she leave and light at other windows?
It should be so, she is of nature made.
I watch a bird framed in a silvered pane.

Heart break we knew it well, yet this is sweet:
She is preserved. I did not shatter glass;
to reach for her would mar her gentle heart.

She is the heart of Love that warms my bones
when time’s cruel fangs sink in my back and knees...
I watch a bird framed in a silvered pane,
to reach for her would mar her gentle heart.