I didn’t write poetry until tenth grade. I didn’t want to write poetry. I wanted to write novels and become an “author” – imagine this in large, block, Hollywood sign type lettering, spoken with sweeping arm gestures. My tenth grade honors English teacher invited (assigned, encouraged, demanded) our class to try poetry. I did, and to my horror, I discovered I liked it. In fact, it was fun. I liked writing silly poems, serious poems, romantic poems, found poems, visual poems, collage poems, poems in rhyming verse, and poems in blank verse. Poetry is a place where I often go to play with words, rhythm, syllables, and the play of space and letters on the page. My first unpaid publication was an angry poem in college. My second paid publication was a poem in my thirties. I still like it. Even with a bit of professional published poetry, I still feel like poetry is a place to play, explore, and try new things. I’m still a student here, and I’m happy to be one. What follows on this page is partially a list of published poems, and partially a group of old poems to read. Enjoy, if you will, my scribblings. The new and old are separated by some of my amateur photography efforts.
“Tacks Between Us.” The Drabble. July 17, 2020.
“in the distance.” The Firefly Collective. May 5, 2020.
Sticks and Stones. The Drabble. March 22, 2020.
“My Father’s Eyes.” The Drabble. March 22, 2019.
But the Snow Falls… The Drabble. February 26, 2019.
“Strong Together.” Leaves of Ink. May 18, 2018.
body, heart, mind, soul
all are sickened by pain
so I cannot stand
when I call the physician
who does not believe
when I suck in the pain
I call and call him
and I get no answer
so I call a new doctor
then another and another
until I get tests
and find more than one answer
three issues wrong in my body
or possibly there are five
I start to lost count of them
in my buzzing hive
of emotions, spirit, mind
all wrapped in a dive
spiraling from life into
until I find the right path
to walk forward
through surgeries, hugs,
fervent prayers poured
into my body to
reawaken my heart
to renew my mind
to create soul art
out of stained glass
strong together, not apart
“I Didn’t Know His Name” at The Drabble. March 2017. (prose poem)
“Rain Vigil” at A Story in 100 Words. 11/12/2016. (prose poem/story)
“Entwined” at The Skinny Poetry Journal. June 2016.
“almost spring” @7×20 March 27th, 2015.
“Robot Sonnet.” Bewildering Stories, Issue 558. January 2014. Also, featured in Flicker: A Collection of Stories and Poetry.
Robot Sonnet #1
by Tyrean Martinson
To be or not to be is the question
Circulating in my hard and soft circuits
As I fall through starlit retrocession,
Transited from port to port, bolts and nuts
Oiled in stasis for best performance.
Historical and horrifying deeds,
Deadly showcases of high battle dance
With unwilling partners. Colony seeds
Fail to bow to my master’s will
And die by my hands stained with blood
Like those of sad Lady Macbeth, whose shrill
Cries echo in my hollow heart, which broods.
Killer robots don’t dream of electric sheep.
We dream of not to be: an endless sleep.
MORE POETRY PUBLICATIONS
“Green Planet.” Every Day Poets. March 12th, 2014.
“Fruit Sale Cinquain.” Every Day Poets. July 30th, 2012.
“here or there” at Every Day Poets, October 5th, 2011.
“Octopus Rising” at Every Day Poets June 15, 2011.
“april second” at Every Day Poets April 2, 2011.
“New Hope” at Yahoo Associated Content March 23, 2011.
“Breaking the Stillness: at Every Day Poets February 9, 2011.
Black Diamonds at Every Day Poets December 22, 2010.
“Embers.” Moon Drenched Fables. Fall 2010 issue.
“My Mother’s Compost” at Every Day Poets September 25, 2010.
“March Snow Hare” at Every Day Poets March 16, 2010.
“Night Terrors” at Every Day Poets October 10, 2009.
“Echoes” at Haruah 2009.
“Grace Unexpected” at Every Day Poets July 23, 2009.
“Something Like Fencing.” Western Front: Western Washington University Newspaper. December 4, 1992.
“Selling Dreams.” Western Front: Western Washington University Newspaper. November 20, 1992. (Could have been good, if I had just changed two words . . .those were my angry, “use whatever words I want” days.)
“Like a Cold Winter Morning.” Western Front: Western Washington University Newspaper. October 23, 1992.