Poem by Martin Hicks

Martin Hicks' latest book of poetry, In The Realm of Fantasy,  is available locally at The Book Shelf on May St; Books, Sport Cards, and Collectables at Wolseley Street by the Cumberland Robins; or by direct sales marthickins@gmail.com. Cost is 21$.
    
ESTATE AND MOUNTAIN ASH

Closed corner house has gingerbread,

Which is to say much ornate trim.
High bedroom towers match overhead,
Planned renovation prospects slim.

From main part there extends addition

With windowsill and woodwork peeling,
Great source of childhood superstition
Nail-boarded...but far less for stealing.

There's separate sagging porch in front
Few carpenters in town would tackle.
To make brief pause and be quite blunt,
Whole scaly monster lours ramshackle.

A minor point perhaps worth mention

In years gone by viewed by officials.
On still not-broken pane of mansion
Glints doctor's name with gold initials.

 Nearby in last stand on green grounds

Stay four-or five-large ash in all.
Not far removed blare brassy sounds,
Encroachment of the urban sprawl.

Group lives by whimsy not yet felled

And maintains stance, ignored, alone,
Although white fence post hasn't held.
Far distant boughs lend sanguine tone.

Some term trees rowan, most call ash,

Let berries hang down heavy clumps.
Left one bares full length wicked gash
And with tired leanings on next slumps.

Worn sentries show gate wounded bark

And ragged leaves with flecks of mud,
Still proud as limbs assigned neat park.
Pressed berry yields foe sour thin blood.

 -Martin B. Hicks

A Poem to an Unchangeable Maple by Martin Hicks

The Sugar Maple

It stood straight in provincial park

Amongst the many in such stand,

Protected from both axe and spark.

Law-legislated place Crown land.


Yes decades maple had reared tall

Halfway up slope to rocky crest

All Spring and summer, into fall,

And lasted winter with bold best.


The others varied hue through year

But its odd yellow stayed tint same

So legend claimed, and did appear

As up rough rutted road car came.


We paused and noted heart on bole

Carved deeply midway into bark,

Yet healthy was the steadfast whole

With target left on, scores off-mark.


Here, too, was seen its cabled roots

Beneath one side to wind exposed

Not far away from climbing boots.

Above limbs challenges proposed.


We noticed screwed in wood a tap

Where pail in season no doubt hung

When syrup oozed out golden sap

For visit of the grade school young.


Eyes studied most though single tone

Contrasting green of August change,

Thought singular boughs spread alone

Shade constant in one colour strange.

-Martin Hicks

The Music Box by Martin Hicks

for Sara and Kate

Tinkle, tinkle, chimed the tune.
Children listened hour by hour.
Tinkle, tinkle in high room
Silver notes escaped in shower.

Wooden box was wound again.
Key and spring would never falter:
Tinkle, tinkle,antique strain
Secret soundboard couldn't alter.

Father soon regretted fact
Cedar gift was bought at all,
Daughters found in same no lack
Cased in orchestra so small.

Then the music came once more.
Tinkle, tinkle, shone starlight.
Little bare feet skipped on floor
Pirouettes in gowns so light.

Parent with indignant air,
Wailed at stairway song was trite.
Twirlers answered, without care,
"It's all new to us tonight!"

In the Realm of Fantasy: Poems Mainly Narrative

Thunder Bay poet Martin Hicks' latest book, In the Realm of Fantasy, presents a panorama of medieval and modern characters ranging from the bored chamber maid to  the above-it-all village idiot.  But it is Hicks' dark sense of fun which  turns this collection into a compilation of wonder and wonderful.

Working inside classical forms, Hicks' sly word play, puns, video-game rhythms, double entendres, classical allusions, twists and double twists leave the reader smiling and gasping in delight as he presents his characters grappling with  the great themes: life, death, art and the passage of time.  A second and a third reading reveal new innuendos, new references missed the first time out.

Adding to the pleasure, an essay describes the architecture of the book, an outline of  his poetic philosophy and pertinent  advice for budding poets.

He writes: "Archaic words are juxtaposed beside modern ones to shock the reader into a fresh appreciation  of language after media advertising has devalued what was once rich currency."

It worked for me.

In the Realm of Fantasy is available at Books and More and The Book Shelf on May Street.

For a sample of a poem about poetry read on:

Stand Back - Poetry Exploding

The new book of poems by Martin B. Hicks, In the Realm of Fantasy: Poems Mainly Narrative, combines traditional poetic forms with contemporary context.


Rife with Hick’s clever illustrations, word play, puns, cryptograms, running comments, puzzles and other intricacies, the poet has also added a how-to essay on the writing of poetry.

In the Realm of Fantasy anything can happen and frequently does. You’ll encounter a wide assortment of characters pursuing their usual/unusual occupations inside a highly controversial castle and its lowly village.

Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is not coincidental.

Glossed over with picturesque details, suffused with corrosive cynicism, randomly appear in chronic-non-logical order such sundry types as a do-nothing king, a hands-on inquisitor, an academic Bluebeard, an earthy gravedigger and an aerial hairstylist, among others.

Throw into the mix a midnight baker, flowery diction and the result it is good read. One where the royal line is preserved.

The book will sell for $24 shekels. Look for it in the local book stores in about three weeks.