Sunday 31 July 2022

Five Poems by Chris Courtney Martin

 


CAPITAL PUNISHMENT

 

Call me broke

Because

Something essential has shattered

All things human in tatters

Suckled on the

Grey of the matter

 

Pluck up the fat o' the land

Leave the bones bare

Sell it back to me

For four hundred

In a cardboard box marked

'Graze'

 

Vagrant cravings leave me

Hateful hungry for

The fruit hanging over

The Fence-line

 

If it serves lemon

Even better

For

The bitter acid

Multiplies its

Soursweet vitriol

When laced through

With the bile in the

Pit of my echoing bowels

 

May the spray blind you

When I cough up a lung

Macerated by the

Venomous

Atmosphere

Of your shame

 

Call me broken

On the Wheel

Of your Fortune


 

THE LAND, LORD, IS SCUM

 

God says I must write

To occupy fingertips which

Itch for the knife

Reach for the bleach

Loose for the noose

 

God says

Blessed are the poor

God says

The meek shall inherit

God did not

Factor in an estate tax.

 

God has no belly to fill.

God has no need for utilities.

And all Her children are

Emancipated.

 

God says

'This, too, shall pass'

And it makes me wonder

Why I will never disassociate

The phrase

'Pass away'

 

There is no rent to pay

In Heaven.

 

Do we earn our deed

By living thru Hell?

 


(OB) NOXIOUS MUSINGS

 

You owe them not a thing..

Not form, nor structure, nor tone, nor homage.

Nor sense, nor reverence, nor critical delights.

Give them your ugly, because it is yours.

If we could learn a thing from scrunch-faced dogs,

It is that for every aesthetic disharmonious,

There is a heart that pines to melt in its presence.

 

Leak these inelegant thoughts into the air,

Like the noxious gas that becomes one

With the very atmosphere

And produces phenomena just a touch

More fascinating than deadly.

 


THE WORDS

 

I have not yet found the words

For Buffalo.

As I could not find the words

For Charleston.

The stanzas, verses, lines

For Mike and Trayvon

And Sandra and Korryn

And Breonna and Phillando and and and

And and and

And and

And

All of them

Are lost upon the drifting breeze.

Flakes of ash melting into pain-parched tongue.

 

I do not have the words

For my cousins.

Nieces.

Nephews.

Niblings.

Offsprings.

 

The tears have already

Dried into salt streaks.

The aches and pains

Already

Dull and numb.

 

But what I have left

In spades

Is the spring-loaded momentum

Of my swinging fists.

What I do possess is

A belly full of bile.

 

I know that I can eke out

A void supermassive

To consume ALL of the forgiveness

We are

Continually implored

To give.

 

I Will Gladly

Trade Them

The Words

For Our

Right

To Live.


 

ROVER

 

Little Ryan passed away

Highest time to bash The Gays

All the things you dare not say

(How’d she find out?)

(Who up and told her?)

Better when I scream and shout

No better way to work it out

And if you hold a seed of doubt

Best plant it ‘fore the ground gets colder

 

They say that Everything, it happens

For a truly good reason

More of an open season

 

And when the model breaks the mould

The wisdom wasted on the old

Silver tongue patinaed gold

(Life’s just begun)

(Alas, it’s over)

Never thought we’d have the nerve

Strength of vision nor the verve

Needed to hold it on reserve

In case we don’t

Get through October

 

You say that Everything that happened

It only made you better

Ruby Slippers pair with Scarlet Letter

 

At the waist, I lean to bow

In gratitude to see the Now

How far a stretch, we do avow

Since Joanie sang

Crimson & Clover 

And when the moon has set on us

We say a prayer for the dusk

The way it fades echoes the trust

Of those who live

To bend us over

 

You know, I know It had to happen

Without a rhyme or a reason

A boarded door to slip limp keys in

 

Love a wheel that likes to squeak

Like a girl who loves the heat

On every word you choose to speak

Just dangling from the Cliffs of Dover

When I begin to need a hand

Slip me a little contraband

Hoping for a heart to brand

 

Come over…

Come over, Rover.


Chris Courtney Martin is a Black Non-Binary/Queer writer-producer-psychic medium originally from Philadelphia, PA. In 2014, they graduated cum laude from Drexel University with a degree in Screenwriting & Playwriting and dual Minors in Film & Video and Art History-- among the first class to receive the school’s prestigious Liberty Scholarship. In 2019, Martin co-hosted Best Sellers Production’s AFRO HORROR podcast in its inaugural season alongside creator Sade Sellers. Martin's screenwriting credits include "PALE HORSE"-- the upcoming feature directorial debut of Gabourey Sidibe, produced by Gamechanger Films and Wellington Love. Martin’s short Horror work has also appeared on the animated YouTube series “SOMETHING SCARY” created by Sapphire Sandalo and hosted by Markeia McCarty. Their unproduced screenplays boast a laundry-list of accolades such as Grand Prize at Urbanworld, 5th Prize at Emerging Screenwriters, spots on the Young & Hungry and Bitch Lists, plus ISA’s Top 25 Screenwriters to Watch in 2019 and Development Slate.  Martin sees a return to poetry and other literature to be the next test of their writing prowess. Their collection THE BOOK OF I.P. (Idle Poems) is available on Amazon via Alien Buddha Press.


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