The deep throb of silence filters the thoughts
that rise to the surface, like delicate air bubbles
bursting and boiling in spherical silvery orbs
of sustained thought.

At first, the fear of being alone overtakes
the humdrum of daily life
all too soon, the silence invades the clutter
of the noise and the heart beats
like a butterfly, as the mind descends
deep inside into cavernous labyrinths
seeking those little nagging thoughts
that elevate stress platforms of impatience.

There is a serene solitude
and all of life flashes before me
in hyperstring  neural networks of memories
which bubble to the surface
of unconscious thought
and dissipate into nothingness.

I am alone.

Author Notes

Contemplation-6. Another key.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

Beat in the blues the musky smell of smoke slithering
in and out of nostrils- dragon like dancing
to the ceiling and the drums bop, hard as muscle
women gyrate to the pulse of passion
sounds embrace lovers heading into the mist of night.

Between the banter  snorters ****** in coke
and cannabis wasted in the aisles of wonder
glancing at the lights flickering in the rooftops
of their eyes, seeking angels of mercy to take
them deep into the oblivion of emptiness.

The midnight gong sounds shattered as we
huddle in the days of the darkness of unreason
wallowing in the madness of the music
and breaking every rule that kept us trapped
in the cages of  that society .

As I look back now, leafing through the years
I cut through the morass of tradition and broke free
from the shackles of sensibility and found my feet
in a wild, wild world where nothing mattered
I am now rested at the journeys end
waiting for the skyline to blow up in flames.

Author Notes

Recollection.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

Come , come into the daybreak of the dawn rising
from the mists of the mind and its sacred numbers
clasped in the twilight  womb of knowing,
punctuated itself into a sob of joy.

Reach, reach the long dusty road we have traveled on
and walked the miles searching for respite
from hours of loneliness and pain
distant lands beat like drumbeats in the desert
of the journey we took
to find shade in the sweetness of oases
as we trudged along under scorching sun
seeking each others hand for comfort.

Maybe we've reached, maybe not
its hard to finish a journey with no end
or no beginning-bathed in hope
standing still at the horizon of meaning
we understand what it is that put us on this
pathway to pages of poetry

Read, read, whatever message you can get
from this cryptic verse. packed with sounds
and movement of changing moods
acting out the step by step
conclusion to a bright beginning.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

As strong as rubber bands
stretched taut
we too had a thing going on between us.
What was it
that cannot be defined in poems
as easily as defining so many other things

Too tight, it would snap and sting
you said I listened
Boundaries are like this I said
not elastic, yet tightly closing us in,
into definite spaces
often unable to test the limit. We did though

But we did clamber through every loophole,
met at the mountain top of emotions
sailed the tumultuous sea
and finally settled
in each others arms.

Looking back at the journeys log
There are endless pages of warmth
held together with rubber bands of love!

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

Starflung into strange abodes
galaxies collide like minds
central cores disintegrate to recover-
atoms form into gigantic stars of wisdom

Within each word lies
the essence of meaning,
unpeeled it bursts into awareness.
we are drawn to mysteries
that never make sense

what is it?
that drives destiny down unknown paths
filling each movement with a subtle piece
of the jigsaw, falling into place,
one by one in a fulfilling way?
What is it?

The body and soul sublime
will unite with its counterpart

All the prophecies of time immemorial
will come together in perfect sync.
We discovered each others magnitude
and magnificence in a split-second moment.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

Silence kills the poetry in me
just as much as create it.
I must  hear the softness whistle through the words,
of my love, even as the leaves rustle,
just as much as I long for those delicate pauses
that stir  each heartbeat with a shiver.

What a thing love is,
it draws you into this big circle of knowing
giving flight and fancy to the smallest word
magnifying whispers into raging fires
and warming in the sunshine of acceptance.

No matter which way we turn
the desperation to close the distance
is an urge that compels
us into an ever tightening embrace.

Everything swirls with pleasant beauty.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

At the gate  between exit and entry,
stands guard a symbol with no spears, daggers or keys
no words spoken or written, just a mindset.

If you go inwards into yourself you will pass a quiet place
where  no  emotional sentries stand guard while
you seek solace in the silence of empty spaces

This is where you pause awhile, take stock and retreat
into inner spaces where reside completeness, and repair kits
which you yourself left there as a child.

Once the mystical journey is complete
return to the world of living, healed and wholesome
leave your baggage  at the exit point
leave a tithe for the  realms, return happy and simple.
uncast yourself from the mould of materialism
and wear this new skin of spiritualism
which will clothe you in perpetual warmth-
be among the worlds whole people
a renewed person.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago