About Martin Walls
Martin Walls was born in Brighton, England and now lives in Baldwinsville, New York.
He is the author of three books of poems: Small Human Detail in Care of National Trust (2000), Commonwealth (2005), and The Solvay Process (2009).
Martin's poetry writing awards include a Witter Bynner Poetry Fellowship from the US Library of Congress, a The Nation/"Discovery" Prize, and a Breadloaf Writers Conference Scholarship. He is also a recipient of a 2011 Central New York Business Journal Forty Under Forty award.
When he's not thinking about snails or poetry, Martin is Director of Marketing and Communications at the Syracuse University School of Education. To view his Linked In profile, click here. You can also visit Martin on his Facebook page, on Wikipedia, or send him an e-mail.
Here is a snail poem by Martin, from his book Commonwealth:
Snail
It is a flattened shell the color of spoiled milk, a bold
Swirl slowly stirred that charts the age of what's
Curled inside with the tension of a watch spring. A creature
That embodies the history of metaphysics: first it exists,
Then it doesn't, then it emerges once again, unrolls
One, then another, eyestalk, periscopes breaking
The surface of its wet-life. And here's the tongue-body,
The petal-body, molding its shape to the world's shape.
He is the author of three books of poems: Small Human Detail in Care of National Trust (2000), Commonwealth (2005), and The Solvay Process (2009).
Martin's poetry writing awards include a Witter Bynner Poetry Fellowship from the US Library of Congress, a The Nation/"Discovery" Prize, and a Breadloaf Writers Conference Scholarship. He is also a recipient of a 2011 Central New York Business Journal Forty Under Forty award.
When he's not thinking about snails or poetry, Martin is Director of Marketing and Communications at the Syracuse University School of Education. To view his Linked In profile, click here. You can also visit Martin on his Facebook page, on Wikipedia, or send him an e-mail.
Here is a snail poem by Martin, from his book Commonwealth:
Snail
It is a flattened shell the color of spoiled milk, a bold
Swirl slowly stirred that charts the age of what's
Curled inside with the tension of a watch spring. A creature
That embodies the history of metaphysics: first it exists,
Then it doesn't, then it emerges once again, unrolls
One, then another, eyestalk, periscopes breaking
The surface of its wet-life. And here's the tongue-body,
The petal-body, molding its shape to the world's shape.