William Martin: Author - Actor - Voiceover Artist - Poems

A Good Visit

5/22/2025

Although dementia had ravaged her mind,
She came to me in a dream.
We sat across from each other,
On pure white benches,
Within a pure white room. . .

We talked and smiled and laughed,
And it all made sense.
Her voice was as kind and gentle,
As I always remembered it to be.

My heart filled to bursting,
Just to be with her again.

Looking over my shoulder,
I saw two dark-suited men,
Standing against a white wall.
Their arms folded across their chests,
Their faces stern, eyes unblinking.

I turned back to her,
And she smiled shyly,
Her eyes as inquisitive as a child’s,
A look of wonder at why I wondered,
At the purpose of the men.

Her smile stopped.
Her brows furrowed,
In the ultimate understanding,
We all will face.
She slumped slowly forward,
And I caught her, easing her to the floor,
Reminded of her stroke,
In the middle of the grocery store,
And how embarrassed and apologetic she had been.

I did not want her to feel that shame now.

I held her in my arms then,
For the final time.
I gently brushed her hair to the side,
And tried to smile, to stay strong.

“Come with me,” she whispered.
“There’s something I want you to see.”

“I can’t go Mom.” And my tears fell,
As I held her tight.
“And I don’t want you to go. Not yet.
Not ever.”

“Come with me,” she whispered.

And the bright white of the room grew,
Blinding and engulfing all.

I awoke, cheeks wet,
My heart torn once again.
It was the second of three times,
I would lose her that year.

--William Martin

Neither of Us Knew

7/19/2024

Neither of Us Knew

Neither of us knew

what lay on the other side

Touching my hand

she whispered,

"...I'll go ahead first...

...you come along after..."

A quick hug,

then she ventured forth,

Head held high...

... and I never saw her again.

- William Martin

Understanding Values

6/17/2024

Understanding Values

I asked what she thought,
She said, "It doesn't matter."

I put forth what I thought,
She said, "It doesn't matter."

Like a bumblebee,
I flittered,
Trying to find a place to land,
That still connected us.

She said, "It doesn't matter."
That’s when I knew,
The ‘we’ were two,

And I tried to make it not matter.

- William Martin

The Rolling Hills

6/17/2024

The Rolling Hills

The sun eased down over low rolling hills
We sat in our lounge chairs
The stress of the day melting,
Slowly easing away with the sun

We talked of small matters
Not wanting this time to end
Knowing sleep, too quickly would bring
The next day’s weight of work
And the sun struggling back up in the sky
I know she shares my thoughts

Then the gunshot
A specific crack in the distance
Pushing through dense air
Its echo fading over the rolling hills

A single shot –
not enough for target practice
hunting season long since over
accidental or on purpose

So we wondered if…
A simple embarrassment
Or injury
Or a life gone

And the sun
As though
not wanting to know
slipped behind the rolling hills
-- William Martin

When We Were Immortal

7/1/2023

When We Were Immortal

Our bikes flying down,
A treacherous hill,
Dirt roiling off the wheels.
Rattle and bounce,
Legs absorbing shocks,
Wind watering our eyes,
And we smiled.

A split second of flight,
Leaping from the roof,
Hit ground, tuck and roll.
Ladder shakes and slips,
Scrambling up for another go.
Imaginary “S” on our chests,
Our fists planted firmly on hips.

An unknown concept,
Change.
No, we would always stay that way,
Adventures waiting each day,
And dusk came too quickly,
On the kids’ dirt streaked faces,
Arms circling shoulders,
As we walked together,
And we smiled.

-- William Martin

Extended Sonnet Number One (Will Echoed)

6/17/2023

Extended Sonnet Number One
(Will Echoed)

Love, forebear allowing me to outlive
thy grace. As it shines before me, I know
radiance brings life, continues to give
so long as thy heart continues to glow.

As petals drift from the flower, my time
passes in expectation of thine own.
Yet deprived of thy life-giving love I
count friendships, count loves, count all time alone.

Thrust off this heavy, mortal cloak I bear,
allowing spirit uncoiled to ascend,
gazing down o’er thy heavenly share
with eyes knowing all and all that transcends.

Yet let not life above prove false in deed,
pulling down death’s darkness that cloaks the day
into a murky loveless sea. My need
for you outlives, out-loves the heavens’ play.

So forebear allowing me to deny,
as it shines before me, your loving grace.
A hollow heart would arc the endless sky
seeking only to glimpse your love, your face.

T’were a burden upon this earth-bound place
and my time upon it an empty space.

-- William Martin

You Are the Poem

6/3/2023

You Are the Poem

You are the poem I’ve always wanted to write,
The story I’ve longed to tell.
Devoid of armored cynicism,
Omitting my trips through hell.

A poem arcing through all emotion,
Showcased in an effortless grace.
Lines crafted with an easy eloquence,
Transcending hearts, time and space.

A poem complete in simply holding you,
A heart held in the warmth of your trust.
The rhyme whispered in soft, warm breaths,
The rhythm felt as sacred blood rushed.

It was to be a poem of soul and of love,
An experience of lives touching lives.
And although pen never caressed the page,
The poem was there within your eyes.

Just waiting to be discovered,
Within the warmth of your loving eyes.

--William Martin

If They Never Knew

5/20/2023

If They Never Knew

We touch so many lives
During a lifetime
How can we not help
But fracture a few?

We try to mend
Before our end
Yet we wonder…

If they never knew
What we knew
How much stronger
Would they be?

Yet we touch them
Nonetheless
And it’s an unkind
Selfishness
A way to give meaning
To the meaningless

We make amends
Toward our own ends
A soundless thunder…

And if they never knew
What we knew
How much stronger
Would they be?

--William Martin

A Pair to Draw To

5/6/2023

A Pair to Draw To

Two jokers,
Wild cards,
Recognizing their mirrored image,
Anxious,
Ready to disappear,
Within the safety,
Of a card-crowded deck,
Hesitant,
To join the Game again.

He wears a coxcomb hat,
While a morion shades her face.
Both are drawn,
To a suit of red.
They contribute,
Yet are out of place.

Both shield surprises,
When they are in play,
Potential pitfalls,
For any who take up a hand.
Yet they too are surprised,
To see a similar self,
And a shared,
Affinity for strong,
Steady,
Beating Hearts.

Their cards bend,
Each bows to each,
Reflections of the self.
Neither of them knew,
Another,
Even existed in this Game.

So let the Jokers revel,
In their discovery,
Delight in seeing Each,
In themselves.

Perhaps they’ll sit out this round,
Allowing the usual cards,
To be dealt,
And engaged in play.

They would only,
Upset the Game,
Pushing against,
The rules,
That players insist,
Must be obeyed.

-- William Martin

The Grandest Art

4/22/2023

The Grandest Art

I watch as you walk slowly past,
Reflections in a looking glass.
I wonder what it is you see,
If I’m still there and will it last,
Or if, in looking, fade too fast.

A shimmering glimpse of the sea,
A depth so pure it frightens me.
Sunlight haloing us as one,
An image that has set me free,
Opened my eyes to what could be.

My battles now have all been won,
Lay down my sword they’re all but done.
Drop to my knees with arms spread ‘part,
Embrace the warmth of a new sun,
It arcs the path it’s always run.

Each day with you I see a start,
Each day with you I see a part,
Of how life joins all together,
How we all share a common heart,
How all of life is grandest art.

Our hearts embrace one endeavor,
One miracle held forever.

--William Martin