by Paul Martin | Aug 21, 2022 | Poetry
Worker slaving on the job,Strike a coming, boss a slob,Should I stay or join the mob,Love me, love me. Collie lying in a bed,Wished he had a piece of bread,Better off if he was dead,Love me, love me. Unwed mother in a shack,Baby boy whose name is Mack,Trying hard to... 
by Paul Martin | Aug 21, 2022 | Poetry
When I was yet a young man,And full of zest and dare,I flew the fastest planes they had,Without a damn or care. The throttle of my little car,Was always on the floor,My home was just for parking,Of my hat upon the door. And when my country called me,Because they had a... 
by Paul Martin | Aug 21, 2022 | Poetry
The workman that lives in the hovel,The boss that dwells on the hill,The sweat and the blood on the handle,The manicured hands in the till. The dirt and grime of construction,The carpeted floors in the hall,The flirting with death and destruction,The driving, hitting... 
by Paul Martin | Aug 10, 2022 | Poetry
On the battlefields of nations, where the bullets whine and sing,And the smell of death is floating everywhere,There’s a special kind of courage which can make a boy a king,The kind that puts the stars into his hair. When a mortar has you zeroed in and flesh is flying...