Author: dennismantin

I am a writer/painter/filmmaker and most importantly a father.

Eons

On By dennismantinIn Writing1 Comment

The bad luck raised suspicions, on a path that was beat down.

No one dared to look within or see the wise men in the town.

It was happening for eons, as long as Grandad could recall.

Like a dark foreboding plank walk or a dream in which you fall.

Until the child spoke her words that, “Maybe somethings wrong with me?”

So we made a meeting with the Doc, down at the Family Psychiatry.

The doctor raised awareness and we all took a look.

Things are looking so good now, might take Grandma off the hook.

Now life is far from perfect however the family’s not so sad.

Looking in the mirror, not blaming blind luck, good or bad.

Dennis Mantin

The Chances Store

On By dennismantinIn WritingLeave a comment

Chances were the premium at the chances store.
Called up their proprietor and asked for just one more.
Inside information suggested relocate.
When they closed the chances store, it sealed the users fate.
With no plans for the future and the future, it is here.
Who knew that the sun would rise and whisper last nights fear?
So we headed for the highway, which ended at the light.
Looked upon arrival, no chances store in sight.
Searching for the answers that will ease the fears.
Some will stand there crying and find few are buying tears.
All are someone’s baby lost along the way.
Strangers and sojourners who have lost the need to pray.
And I say, “Pray”

Dennis Mantin

The Voice (1990)

On By dennismantinIn PoetryLeave a comment

The day the voice moved in with me, he brought his good friend fear.
Said ‘We all share your heart and soul you’ll soon forget we’re here.’
The day the voice moved in with me, peace and sleep moved out.
The addict he was at the door, and the voice he jumped to shout.

Said, ‘We like you we like it here, we know you like us too
And we know you’ll like our friends, cause true friends are so few.’
The voice would talk for hours about nothing much at all.
And all the noise would wake the fear and the drunk would wake withdrawal.

Years had passed in tears and stains and I had to kill the fear.
The voice he left in the middle of the night, said he didn’t like it here.
The voice returns sometimes when I sleep but he’s gone when I’m awake.
The strength it took to kill the fear was more than he could take.

And the drunk is with the addict and they live from coast to coast. And sometimes when I pray to God, I pray you’re not their host.
Singing, ‘We like you, we like it here, we know you like us too. And we know you’ll like our friends cause true friends are so few.

–Dennis Mantin