Friday, December 29, 2017

sit ups

Sit Ups

Call me old fashion,
Exercise is a passion.
I practice the sit up,
When from bed I get up.
The more I nap and rise,
The more I exercise!

jscottmartin .com 

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Angel Echos

Angel Echos

In a world with evil,
Troubles many,
Blessings few,
Angel voices still echo,
Peace on earth,
Good will toward you!


Saturday, December 9, 2017

How To Spear Frogs

How To Spear Frogs

Start with a trident tipped spear,
Approach the frog from the rear.
A good aim and quick jab,
And soon a frog you will stab!

Fry the legs in an iron skillet,
In flour of wheat not of millet.
Watch the pan I do implore,
If not those legs will jump out on the floor.

Like my writing? Visit me at jscottmartin . com 

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Beaten Up

Beaten Up

I was “beat up”.
The sun,
 “beat me up”.
I usually watch the sun rise.
But today,
To my surprise,
When I sat down in my chair,
The sun was already there.
Would it be vain?
To pray for it to backup,
And rise again?

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Coffee Straw

Coffee Straw
Too lazy
To trot
To coffee

Move pot
By Bed
Suck straw

oh Happy Day

Oh Happy Day

Oh happy day!
It Is never,
”just another day”,
The sun did rise,
And so did I.
God gave another day,
To laugh or cry,
Come what may.
Remember you could be found,
Six feet under, 
the cold, hard ground!!!

Like my writing? Visit me at jscottmartin . com (with no blank spaces) 

Cutshin Girl

Cutshin Girl

I am a Cutshin girl,
I hold my head up high,
And the fellow who gets me,
Will be a lucky guy.

Written by my Granny, Hazel Nolan Shell, born 1909 in Leslie County of Ky, when she was a school girl. Cutshin Creek is near the town of Thousandsticks.

Like my writing? Visit me at jscottmartin . com (with no blank spaces) 

Saturday, December 2, 2017

water in my blood

Water in the Blood

I have water in my blood,
Not gentle waves,
On tropical shore,
But running,
Through solid rock it tore.
Gouging gullies,
Hollowing hollers,
Appalachian water I adore.

Like my writing? jscottmartin . com 



I have lost souls,
On treacherous shoals'
Fierce breakers of distance and time.

I think of their faces,
I miss their embraces,
Searching the shipwrecks of memories sublime.

Like my writing? Visit me at jscottmartin . com (with no blank spaces) 

Friday, December 1, 2017

silver frost drops

Silver Frost Drops

Silver drops,
From the redbud tree.
Morning sun,
Defrosts the frost,
The branches drip silver fun!

Like my writing? Visit me at jscottmartin . com (with no blank spaces) 

Thursday, November 30, 2017

locked door

Locked Door

I lock the door,
To my soul,
Lest you discover,
I am not whole.

But I open a window,
And sit by it,
To air my thoughts,
Bit by bit.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

stick man vanquished

Stick Man Vanquished

As I was walking to county Fair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
Though he never spoke to me,
I begged his pardon, my failure to see.
He was however rather uncivil,
So with the stranger I did quibble.
"Will you not reply to me?
And acknowledge my apology?"
You may think me a fool,
But I challenged that heathen to a duel.
But he lacked the common courtesy,
To even take a shot at me!
Now there's a celebration,
As people express their adulation.
For now the man who wasn't there,
Never plagues the county Fair.

PS: I have no talent when it comes to working with mentally ill people. To the man in our poem the imaginary opponent is real. To you or me he is arguing and dueling with no one. When I encounter a person with an over inflated opinion of himself I can't help but wonder what imaginary accomplishments he lauds himself for. Perhaps he has just written his first book? 

Rev J Scott Martin PE
Kentucky Born Author of
“Lost and Found in Chirripo”
Has lived in Harlan and Johnson Counties of Kentucky and currently resides in Lexington

the woman and the well

A Woman and a Well

A woman and a well,
Have a story to tell.
Jesus asked for water,
From a Samaritan daughter.
She was put off,
Jesus’ intention, she did scoff,
“Here is something new,
Giving water to a Jew.”
“Why not?” Replied he,
“I could give living water to thee.”
“Sir, you have no bucket for to draw,
Do you have a twenty foot straw?”
“Well water quickly comes to an end,
With my water you never thirst again”
“Sir, do you have living water to sell?
I don’t like to come to this Well!”
“Sure, bring your husband here,
I’ll give it to you both my dear.”
“Sir, for a husband I have none,
this is why me they shun.”
“Fact is my daughter you’ve had a few,
And the one your with now isn’t married to you!”
“Sir, it is a prophet to whom I speak,
Where should I worship, which mountain peak?”
“A new day is coming my friend,
I am about to start a brand new trend,
If God you want to seek,
You need no mountain peak,
God is spirit you see,
And you have spirit inside of thee,
If God you want to seek,
Worship in spirit and truth at his feet”

JSM based on John 4

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

stay true

Stay true

From mountaintop to mountaintop,
Plot a bearing that is true.
For Neither swamp,
Nor forest,
Nor shadow,
Hold a clue.

Rev J. Scott Martin, P.E.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

The Vine

The Vine

It's spirals and searches,
For ever higher perches.
Though it is blatantly blind,
If there, the perch will find.

Who had more hope? Me or a humble vine?

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Yard Tour

Yard Tour

I could fly afar,

Peru or Qatar,

And miss the near,

Beauty just as dear.


Friday, July 28, 2017

Morally Illogical

Morally Illogical

I passed a month,

In the depths of despair.

That anyone should suffer so,

I judge cruelly unfair.

I passed part of today,

In a state of near euphoria.

For the return of health,

I shout hallelujah, gloria! 

How is it fair this day?

My heart should beat again.

When Cancer, hunger, cholera,

Kill children without sin?


Thursday, July 20, 2017


Life's about love.
Life's about beauty.
Life's about friends.
Life's about duty.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

Spirit Wings

Spirit Wings

This season of my life,
Is replete with pain and strife.
tis not a struggle with men,
Nor wrestling against a besetting sin.

My own body is now my foe,
Each corporal rift lands a blow.
My own hands grasp to choke my cheer,
My own brain mocks goodness held dear.

Even so I will not despair.
Though my body be beyond repair.
I have long known it is but a tent,
Very soon its time will be spent.

There is a me much deeper inside,
Though now in ragged tent it does abide.
It Will one day soar as eagles fly,
On spirit wings that never die.

JSM 1/3/2017