split second eternity
muti-verses of magic
simple complex explanation
    devoid of reason
    burst starflung
    limitless beyond
    here sits the engine
    that created this universe
    and itself
    god?
  
Author Notes

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

Defying the anger of the stormy winds
swearing at her erectness
she stood her ground on the rockface
stony woman, unafraid of raging seas, frosts
ships crashing at her feet.

With one eye winking/flashing,circling
she warned them of men with mustaches and machetes
marauding naked shores far below the banks
where caves in seawalls collided with the rumble
and dash of waves of protest. Nothing moved her.

She stood , solid as the ten commandments
unminding of the raging storms
doing her duty, flaunting her skirts
and dank steps up her heart which
stayed unflinching.

She was all my  new woman wanted to be.
st, peters basilica on this rock
holding the keys to my souls entry
into her private heavens
a house with many mansions.

Author Notes

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

The slow stream meanders through the densest undergrowth
finding its way through folly and brush and barriers
until at last it reaches a sea of understanding
where the waves crash and burn
tumble and roll in ecstatic freedom.

So do our lives, liberated from tense *******
of social chains placed upon us
by tradition. We were born free
others wanted us locked in rituals
and rants prescribed
that  satisfied their swollen egos
and their own insecurities in the chain
of progress.

Breaking out is not easy
but one must bulldoze through the miasma
to reach the thin light beckoning you
to leave your baggage behind
on an overcrowded platform
where the trains have just whistled past.

A long time ago, my mind was ablaze
in the jungle of dissent and I roamed the world
seeking the liked and unliked ideologies
to a better way to leave a mark of this fabric
of patterned prose and poetry.

Am I yet free? I don't know.
Tempt me with the taste of freedom.

Author Notes

Freedom has many shades.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

The walled -in city imposed upon the reason
to stand so tall within the minds slum
People gathered in networks discussing nothing.
Even as the sea split into pellets of rain
The waters squished together to form puddles of delight
where children played with bare toeholds in the dirt.

I saw Jericho fall as trumpets went out of tune
and tunics hitched up on Roman Generals
marched with full venison bellies
slaughtering people like pigs-making bacon!

As desolate as this **** dream  visions
of wasted emptiness, slowly filling at the edge
with landscaped gardens of garbage
the gates opened and Trojan Horses
unleashed terror on the people.

Prophets roamed the Western world
preaching doomsday and scimitars of radicalism
overtaking the civilised. Insanity finds
its origins in reading between the lines.

I tell you it will not happen. It never will.

Author Notes

Dare to decipher this?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

The matrix maneuvers between
shades of grey and blue striped
waves of emotion
as we scuttle between messages
of hope and longing.

In the stillness of the night
of pure intelligence
the words return
in multi-dimensional meaning
broken down into fragments
to make sense of single word
replies.

How do we know what
was meant for what was written
when words have forked tongues
licking the air for understanding.

Love has a way of being precise
and priceless.

Author Notes

Contemplation 10. Multi-dimensional love of all things pure.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

you cant stop the rain from falling
too many drops
you cant stop freedom from unchaining itself
too many links

you cant stop the road from extending
into the sunset
its too connected
you cant stop dreaming of free flight
locked in a cage

you cant wear red
in a sea of blue because
you will stick out
you can hope for greener grass
walking in a desert
you can count your blessings
when you have little
you cant count your blessing when you have
too much. The difference will not be noticed.

you can be free
inside yourself
and you can be free
alone.

I know that much.

I've tested all these cans
and cannots!

Author Notes

Contemplation 7. Freedom
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

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

There are highways that lead
inside  into yourself
walk on one until your reach
a vast open space
where you have rested in wait
for everything to fall into place.

Watch for the shooting star
that comet blazing across your sky
play your numbers right
find peace in patience
share the weight of the heavy load
contemplate

in a brief moment
the implosion will cleanse
your innermost desires
and once again you will walk
into the blinding light of knowing
that, at last, you have escaped from a cage
and you have set yourself free!

Author Notes

Self-knowledge is critically important to set yourself free from all *******. The first Key to Contemplation and Peace is to know who you are and why you exist on this earth. Listen to yourself first before you listen to others.

This is the second poem in the series on Contemplation. The first one was titled: Solitude.

These poems will appear in my 8th Book: Keys to Contemplation. Comments on your understanding ow what the poem means to you are highly appreciated.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

numbers and cost crunching figures
she stood quietly calculating shelf spaces
calorie content
fat overdrive, taste sensation
and slowly but surely automatic fingers
ticked off the cents and savings
and chocolate biscuit treats.

pushing her trolley to checkout
she knew well
where indulgence took over sacrifice
where synthetic fizz was tastier
than real fruit syrup
and how supermarket shelves
connived with the devil.

home again
she balanced the books well
served plentiful dinners
kept the *** boiling
kicked *** out of roast lamb leftovers
yet chalked up a secret piggy bank
empire in a biscuit tin under the couch.

Author Notes

ordinary people? think again.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

The smell of dettol permeates way down the street
even as I approach the  clinic in terror
death stalks every step and my pulse races
with the knowledge of impending doom.

Try as I might, to stay calm and in control, bugs don't think-
they eat their fill first
and talk with high temperatures and tantrums
coughs and splutters
chills and tingles and tantrums, probably knowing
that murderous pills on their way.

dettol has a distinct sensation, it matches sterile
spongy clean sop and maternity wards
yet I know if you smelt dettol in the deep woods
you would question every dark spot on a leaf
the bark the tree!  the wind and the root.
That's how it got associated with death.

I could never overcome that smell
at times it felt safe, at other times it felt like
alarm bells were ringing of an approaching enemy
facing a firing squad. How could they fire us
to the next world with a smell?
But that's what it always felt like. But today
I need to get my flu sorted out.
Dettol wont do the killing fields any good.

Its hard to have a love/hate relationship with a smell.
Dettol and Women! They are alike! That's it. Yeah.

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11613999-dettol-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.J5CFBwXf.dpuf

Each morning as the clock winds us up
we leave with little entrails of bruised feeling
blood and guts, words of cosmetic endearment
that leaves so little to hang on to.

Yet we follow what society has sculpted us into
machines with robot brains and numb feelings
that is a desert of emotionless sand dunes
the rippling and carving winds shifting grain by grain

from one non- event to another, just working.
When was the last time we explored a magical night
unaware of the chains of cumbersome domestic duties
and found ourselves alone in ecstasy?

If we count the years we grew from a flourishing
herb garden of delicate scents into a barren backyard
of weeds and thorn and thistle shrubbery we will
understand all that we should have done-but didn't.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11610868-Barren-Backyard-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.gjmSMfRM­.dpuf

Clinging hard metallic walls
with veins ******* sweetness from little
leftovers trickling down
the gorse stayed dancing between
open spaces of hell and heaven.

Death like tussle with elements
yellow blooms suckled  pollen
from air vents travelling in the streams
passing within reach
shedding its seeds into the waiting
arms of rare  tourist birds
sojourning in the skyways
of distribution and danger. The gorse
started small, spread quickly
and took over the countryside
with no one watching.

The caliphate was born
under the black hood of death
and the guns aimed at all
with scimitars of control
too late to stem
or seep the spreading venom.

Whole armies now sacrificed
on the altar of ideals.
The crusades will begin again.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

sushi?
no
combination fried rice?
no
nasi goreng?
no
casserole?
no
shepherds pie?
no
are we getting closer?
maybe
tacos? that must be it?
no
yep. i think i know
shrimps, hot dogs and buffalo wings?
nope. too far away
curry?
closer!
jalapenos, habaneros, chilli?
yep. as hot
but tastes and temperaments
from all mixed.

food channel addict, chef?
nope.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11608284-all-mixed-up-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.Syfk2KZn.dp­uf

If you stand here
at the cross-roads
going left or right.

which one do you take?
take one first
turn around and look back
what have you walked past?

Return if the road is strewn
with endless rubble of broken dreams
and disasters.

Take the other other one
what do you see
The same?

know that every road
was built the same way

Don't ever make the mistake again
Never ever reach a cross-road.
Build your road before you start your
journey!

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11596380-crossroads-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.xHSZTFRJ.dpuf­

what was more important
the horse or the house
on a horse I could ride away
in house I'm there to stay
Id need to look after the horse
but not the house
Yet I need to look after the house
and the horse

One is all about the insides
the other about the outsides
Its funny how we need to look after the insides
to make the outsides so much happier.

I'm asking you to help me decide
I love both equally, want both
don't want to go without one or the other

The last one I owned I sold away
and on leaving the paddock gate
he never bothered to look back
to say even 'thank you.'
I was the ***!

The house still stands
meaningless without the horse!

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11627056-Decison-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.URXOmsDF.dpuf

I live in an iconic space
devoid of all sound and voice
seeking an inner temple
where resides small fragments of an old self
a journey once taken
a heart once innocent and plain
unpolluted and clean childlike
metaphysical being with no wants, simple needs
no columns of materialism
a nihilistic existence.

It exists no more
as days merged into the nights
and the light of the next day bought with it
a slow and invasive society
that rendered me numb and meaningless.

I am now awash in a rapidly filling vessel
that needs to be better than I ever was
and all too soon the walls
build greater  heights and gates of enormous size
allowing no free access to no one.

I was now held a prisoner in my own  cemetery
casting about to shake out this network
of social chains  that hold me captive.

Where is the God I once spoke to directly?
Where are the angels that I knew existed?
Why did Santa Claus become commercial?
How did brother get to **** brother
and who created gigantic religious dogma
to herd people into cages of conversion?

Please set me free from this new society
and allow me to return home
to my once beautiful emptiness!
Please, please!

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11624947-I-live-in-an-iconic-space...-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#st­hash.4Vp6DbuR.dpuf

Swinging slowly in the aftermath of sin
the gates swung on well oiled hinges
those who rushed in had baggage to hide
those who didn't stood in the q
waiting turns at redemption.

The devil popped his  horns around the corner
shouting names from a list- nobody answered.
But peter, that guy, without capital spellings
had this great book of columns
yet a few stepped out of line, hands
in the air of ownership.

Purgatory had hand-painted signage
further down
and those who claimed no heaven
or hell quietly formed a third Q
waiting to let themselves in here
for all eternity.

'at least in this place'said one young fella
'you can slow cook, like a tender bbq
and watch the dancing girls
swirl around on the tables
balancing between sin
and eternal innocent happiness'

I immediately joined this
long healthy line of thinkers
philosophers and charlatans!

Author Notes

Its true. Believe me!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11620859-The-Gates-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.QrPcpcX9.dpuf

As dense as the night encloses you
in its firm grasp
life evolves with sunrise
and a new day.

Light enters  the darkest moment
fulfilling the need for resurrection
setting free the entombed cavity
where resides
pain and nonacceptance

Fly you must from this sticky ruin
where you are unable to struggle free
trapped in a void of loneliness
the answers completely devoid of reason

The Heart of Darkness
beats in a strange flutter
until you seek the Calming Light
succumb to the mystical forces
at your command.

Author Notes

From self-knowledge comes acceptance of how vulnerable every person is. This is the Darkness. This can be dispelled with knowing yourself and setting yourself free by using the Mystical forces that you were born with. Its just a matter of recognizing what forces you have at your command. These could be an understanding of supernatural things, like numbers, colours, insight,
prophecies and clairvoyance, instinct, sympathy, compassion and silence or solitude. In using these forces, either singularly or in in conjunction with each other you can build a gigantic wall that will prevent darkness from settling into yourself permanently.

This is mysticism at its best.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11617536-The-Heart-of-Darkness-3-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.­BSXEJ1X9.dpuf

heartbeat drumbeat rhythms
split second splinters
within empty spaces weeds germinate
seeds of contemplation
fill the world into yourself
walk tall, take time out
'reach the unreachable stars'
every journey an epitaph to solace
soar within where  layers
need peeling. empty your pain.
leave aside all attachments.

find the one pathway
that will consume you

take up your pilgrims pole
wear sackcloth
create intense focus on the goal

just go.
go -go- go!
never stop until you've reached
twilight where homecoming
waits with trumpets in tune.

don't ever stop.
just go and keep going.

Author Notes

It is like this.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11616417-Solitude-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.XMYG8FHV.dpuf

Your heart is pure if you watch
a man collecting trash cans
four birds tweeting in a sycamore tree
people watching you-talking to yourself
and sleeping on a park bench
to empty your heart of its heaviness.

Your heart is pure if you allow anyone
to listen to your heartbeat
through the cellphone
and you are not sure if you want to laugh or cry

Your heart is heavy
if  you cant let go of  sadness
and the road you are walking on
turns sharply  strewn with  tacks
thorny torments and is uneven.

Your heart is filled with happiness
when a familiar voice
whispers softly in your ear
and you want to walk the distance
to snuggle up next to him.

Your heart beats this way
because it shows your endless love!

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11615253-Park-Bench-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.tfMSNge7.dpuf­

the enemy sings with soft words
weaving
spidery webs of deceit
watching, hunched, waiting
to spring when ready

watch as the sun sets how
his crouch melts within shadow
idealism
and he moves dark talons
from metallic sheaths

strike he will
book in hand scarfed and ready
his  black god lurks inside of him

we are not afraid
of his advance
armies wait for his heart
to spill on the battlefield
of silky dogmas.

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11612545-Sword-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.QpfXGqIP.dpuf

Buyers gather in tight knots around
orphaned articles seeking resurrection
shining glitteratti from wanton days
now spent and homeless, insipid

garage sale minds gather
in garage sales seeking clutter
to embody themselves with trinkets
like petulant pretty ***** wanting
magpie like shining entries and exits
and wide aplomb.

a season will burst open
when the burnished copper jar
lives its last lifetime on a new shelf
and move on to a new owner
seeking nirvana again
taking no memories with it.

Life is recycled
again and again
in these trading posts.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11610117-Flea-Market-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.oq2m1rx8.dpu­f

Resplendent in his sweep he stalls in mid air still
as if the sun held his talons to sharpen the  winds verb
against the shrill bursting from this tensed lungs
splitting the arc of swoop into perfect symmetry

He sweeps in one long delicate swirl
and spot on the talons clutch at rushing fur and bone
crushing as it lifts the hare, head darting
this way and that. Up, up and away

into the sky's arms. He opens the chef blades
of his beak and delicately strips flesh even
as the dying hare struggles to crawl back
into life. But its windpipe shatters with a squeeze.

The hawk circles high, testing thermals
watching as the cotton clouds gather around
him and blanket his feast with a light shawl of wool.
He knows his domain well. From here he sees

the hurrying feet amidst bracken and bush
and with mathematical precision he plans
his next course from the skies. Even as grizzle
and unchewable hare bones and soft fur tumble
to earth for other predators to salvage.
Majestic Hawk. Master and mystery.

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11609440-The-Hawk-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.GaMYpzzs.dpuf

Reading and Thinking today!
Today it was cold and blustery and the wind chime
was busy with the same crisp notes tinkling away
unsure of which tube to twang first, but it did sound good.

My dog Petals curved up like a huge comma
rolled his soft eyes in his head. She watched me
walk around, just shifting his eyes following my movements.

She knew I was thinking serious, but not about dogs
but something more like cosmic nothingness and
our own existence in this genetic soup.

Dogs know when we get loopy. They whine and whine
telling us to STOP IT and go vacuum the floors instead.
We usually don't understand pet philosophy. Some do though.

After writing a whole new chapter of my new book
It was time to let the grey matter rewind back into reality
and just doodle around thinking silly thoughts.

Several poems in todays reading were truly uplifting:
Imprint ( by Catniss), for one, was superbly crafted
in symbolic language that soared way above the ordinary.

I wrote drafts for several poems but crunched up the paperwork
and aimed for the paper bin- four misses, one in!
Next I read some poems by Mary Szybist:Incarnadine
and loved the exactness of the wording.

Finally, I sat down to write this poem and discovered
it wasn't turning out the way I wanted it to read
and said: Heck! thats the best I can do today!

I looked at Petals, she wagged her tail just this much
and so after that approval I decided to publish it.
Dogs understand us better than wind chimes?

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Author Notes

An older poem..........
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11601537-Reading-Writing-and-Thinking-today.....-by-Marshall-Gass­-noguest#sthash.sFL0Xaqj.dpuf

the clutter of words taking wing
beneath the wide arms  of dense green oak.

the deciphering symbols now begin
as  parts of the mystery fall into place

one by one,  each piece reflects in a mirror
so similar to what I held up to catch the sky
and reason, fragments that collided in mystical shape
and formed into spirals seeking fresh answers

the dreams that haunted our togetherness for so long
and I languished in every stroke  of your poetic pen

now falls the silver cross and the lining in these clouds
that have twisted and turned me inside out

yet I've built a crucible of hope from endless hyperstrings
and pieces of magnificent beauty that I first saw

in your writing and significantly  stayed magnetised
by the unfolding of your life into my own searching.

I will stand here forever, watching, even as the sun dances
into  dark of night and my feelings grow a new pathway.

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11580728-DreamCatcher...-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.3aDaqvOh­.dpuf

stand in the marketplace right between the throng
think of only right and not what is wrong
search the horizon for those seven virgins
watch for others who may barge in

stay close to killing as many as you can
your god desires that you be his best  fan
tighten the belt around on your waist
its a one second blast, make no more haste

when you reach nirvana that we promised you
take all you can, my brother, your vows renew
what you do will make your masters  so proud
thats why, we now in secret  do shroud

the Book you worship is your one way joy ride
just pull the cord and to heaven you glide
we'll watch you from a distance afar
make sure you are safe, with heaven ajar

once gone, my brother, we'll look for a start
for another sucker with a dream to depart
this earthly kingdom for heavens reward
you be the leader to take it all forward

the land that we want, will for ever be ours
you get a tombstone dressed up in flowers
don't worry no more for the people you ****
its written in blood, that its all gods will!

Author Notes

Chilling?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11578863-Explosion-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.bQt5XuMb.dpuf

this was it, the sideways glace with criminal intent
tax dodger, millionaire with  make-up
slyly fleecing sheep off poor citizens backs
living within wind and rage on a mountain top retreat
glass chandeliers, wool carpets,  ivory wall hangings
smoking cubans, smirking has-beens
'who are they but grovelers in the grime
of social disgrace'. The lord.

no, i'm not i countered, shrinking in my walrus skin,
of shades of brown and chameleon
i didn't do it. I was just there buying groceries
for a weekend soup.

take him away, he is a liar, his face says so
his words are smooth as ***** glass
inserted in a conscious effort to fool us.....

five years will teach him temperance
make him see routine, file his taxes,
place him in a cell with accountants,( the cells are full of "em)
lock him up in tax forms
place him in a poverty trap
let him learn not to get rich by his wits
wits are for whites only.
skin colour is everything now. ha ha.

case closed.
throw away the key.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 19 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11670069-Your-honor......-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.TB0bh83­H.dpuf

six dots
random sequence
one never falls in love'by chance
two make sense
three is for free
four
no more please
five-high?
six
the first of the devils visit
another six-age
another six
delve deep for explanations

dont dice with death they said
holding a six shooter
to my head
the russian roullete worked

i speak from the other world
where eternity has no chance.
I took it.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 19 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11670077-Dice-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.OZOFc736.dpuf

on this sea of social turbulence
skin dictates
the price of the ticket
rotating rainbows-no more whites
red is distinct
black is forbidden fruit
cast into the ghettos of the decaying mind
banished from the beauty of eden. why?

we all came from a pinpoint in evolution
in clusters we migrated
to the corners of the globe
seeking multi-verses of origin
yet we create hierarchies of skintone. why?

the gaps in our thinking
are like holes in a doughnut
spiraling galaxies of hate
into whirlpools of ignorance.why?

cast into the seed core
is a colorless quantum of choice
the difference -your destiny. think.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 17 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11673701-Castaway-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.alhKPVLX.dpuf

the links go viral in the wondrous wasteland
people notice blue lettering
take journeys in rivulets of meaning
down pages pumping information

its crazy this desire for numbers
on twitter, FB. linkedin loops
click click click we go on a virtual
merry go round
dog chasing tail?
the circle widens, ripples

be wise they say
keep it clean, smart
as we manage this momentum

will the bubble burst
in a connected world
where we remain faceless, voiceless
life on a keyboard
ruled by a mouse

scampering through ghost people

its time to go back to living
and handshakes and kisses
phone numbers in wallets
smell skin and taste and touch

its time to sleep now
forever unconnected.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 14 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11677675-Social-media-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.B2PpCyij.dp­uf

and it was quiet
the air still
thoughts racing
the feeling demure

what brings this tranquil ocean
to my doorstep
impending pain?
the cusp of happiness
life and its solemn slivers?
what?

I wait for the crackle
of the phone
the twitter sounds
birds chirping
whistling wonders

nothing happens
is anyone alive?
where is the world?
where is the noise and humdrum
the bustle and rustle

why is it so quiet?
should I be afraid?

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 8 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11685092-tranquil-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.VIJnmj7V.dpuf

The horizons dark horse looms across the skyline
shadows gather under silent storms
grey skies lower their mantle
time chips the day into pieces of patience

I wait for the doorbell to break the silence into action
alone, just writing and writing
thoughts in a flurry, everyone gone
Quietude has a soft  language stirs the past

journeys milestones flow past
and I see moments of relish slip and slurp
even as I savour the best for last

my mind is moving from poetry to prose again
and the story takes on an urgency
of raging fires, lost loves, longed-for newness.

Full circle.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 5 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11690072-dark-horse-looms-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.wZ9BzJB­3.dpuf

listen people, profits attract milestones
bar graphs and charts of shareholders
catch no fish, only stones prevail
speak no parables of numbers
i know two fish,five loves can and will feed five thousand.

who said, the birds and the bees have 4o hour weeks
and summer holidays in the sun
six weeks of laziness and gym routines?
go fishing instead. make no fishy business of it.

i say, directors, loose garb is better than pin-stripes
tithes better than fat bank balances full of fat.
would you give an eye to your supervisor? No
so watch your manners. no point in being
the undercover boss handing out peanuts for
poor employees and ******* dollars from their cheers
and less hours on the last floor shift!

I know tv does a lot of good, but so do bibles
and psalms and rock anthems and mary magdalene.

no point in raking in money singing
jesus christ superstar!
im just two thousand fourteen years late
on this board of whingers. AC- DC/BC?

get a life man, the next train to eternity
is only here on a whistle-stop.leaf your clothes behind
and head to the first **** beach
around the bend. lucifer is red hot there. times
have changed, man. whats next on the agenda?

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 3 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11693097-Jesus-on-the-Board-of-Directors-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest­#sthash.NyZSTkRp.dpuf

nature in nature out
frozen in rooms of pink
castles ignored
fairies without fairy dust
spring cleaning prophets
take down memories
faded wrinkled corners
hugging each other
sealing secrets
aligned to symmetries
choices untaken
disciplines forced
age has no reason
take down from pastels
store in archives
remember.

wall flowers?
us reaching across cultures
to embrace newness
tomorrows happiness
taken today.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11694338-Wallpaper-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.TW8o0AaA.dpuf

The centric force subjugates  all things digitally
a belief transmits with impunity unspoken
transmuted into faith nothing  impossible

reproduction splintered into pixels
**** into poetry
poetry into ****

we stumble from satisfaction to satisfaction
communicate in digits
connected by dots and dashes
transmit ideas through light
controlled by digits
until at last shaped in the world of
electronic precision
we fuse into the new religion
god replaced by binaries
unholy alliances
that work well in the mechanism
of subterfuge faces reality dismembered
touch and sensory stimuli
burnished through copper cauldrons
undersea cables reaching each other
mind to mind untouchables, harijans of fancy
split second relationships
walk on into the wilderness
where your body frazzles in passwords false protections
numbers in a mechanical clock
that runs on nano seconds
vanish in the nothingness of unreality

we remember others
only for their photoshopped faces
and eyes of wondrous invitation
a blank soul beckoning
for rejuvenation, thirsting for real feelings
real places and real emotions

welcome to the new religion
digitheism.

escape the trap
return to wonder.
You are either one
or zilch. Take your pick.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a day ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11695729-Digitheism-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.FWLt61f5.dpuf­

breaking waves splintered
fragments of hope across
faceless emoticons
messages of no meaning
name those apps
show those abs
smile incandescently
attract the bees
lay honey traps in a vast network
take control.aim digital

big brother watches
every stroke digital

did god create man
or man create god?

the internet created
the sinternet
we are subscribers
we have all subscribed
with our souls

the underground junkies
of a social world
connected permanently with cables
leading into hell.

Author Notes

Power holstered on a hip the slang
slips and hisses like a snake,
sharp venom fingers fiddling with handcuffs
he roars like a lion
when confronted with energetic excuses.

soon he will slide
behind turbo charged expressions to keep
the world clean of crims.
what he may add
to this sterile law is a hard fist
of dollar bills taken
from alleyways of shame.
hiya, brother!

we see him steering through
traffic lanes and troubles
enjoying everyone scampering
away from his lordships chariot
winning batmans race.
bring him down to the dust.

all for a chrome plated medal
a starched salute
a piece of paper that sings
of power invested in a holster.

outside of the uniform
he feeds his pet pom
pellets of crunchy biscuits.

Author Notes

Cop.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 7 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11592757-blue-stripes-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.GhZAMgon.dpuf

behind the glass door things happen
to stay behind the glass door
until things have happened.

don't ever stick your hand
into the magic happening
or else a bubbly bone will remain.

dont even try putting a golf ball
in to cook
or an egg
because only egg heads do that.

behind the glass door
water droplets use vibrators
and get superhot
you are not supposed to watch
but you do anyway.

don't get zapped
when you are not looking.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 8 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11591413-microwave-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.0iCzdTmh.dpuf

As endless as the clock that ticked
in tune to our heartbeat,
you reflected, the beginning of time
like the universe of our love,
for thirty five  long exhilarating years.

I collected stardust from your stars
you collected memories for both of us.

Even as the children arrived bearing gifts
of beautiful smiles and late night restlessness,
we still turned to each other to put the nightlights
down and count our blessings above the hustle and bustle.

Wrapped in the finery of love and longing,
thirty five years later
the song we played at our wedding
never stopped playing.

As I watched you
and you watched me
God watched over all of us
keeping the fires alight
for us for ever. That  is love.
Yet we have just started out......

Author Notes

True love has no boundaries or fences and never dies down. True love burns
forever and is made better by all the ups and downs. Love that lasts for one day at a time, eventually adds up to a lifetime.
Happy Anniversary. Read this again when you touch your 50th. It will mean a whole lot more!

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 9 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11589902-Flame---Fire......-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.imOlt1hC.dpuf­

Good Morning



Good Afternoon



Good Evening


Wherever you are!

Author Notes

Ha ha.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 9 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11589464-Greetings-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.ty0gGsqL.dpuf

Glass walled reflections of citadels of fantasy
merge in the moment of reality
Who are you locked in the ecstasy of vampires
and werewolves, scouring the night for its mystery
blasting ******* of thoughts
yet trancelike delving into the souls journey
from thought to thought.

Behind the facade
who are you? I see
prose and poems that speak a language
seeking freedom. Maybe not.

Yet I read those writings and decipher
what it is that melts the dark and light
in a crucible of molten red hot verse,
that sears to the touch and taste
and scars come unscabbed, line
by line as each fragment falls
away to reveal a whole person.

The raven and the rogue
mix delectably in this dish.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 10 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11588305-The-Raven-and-the-Rogue-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.wmrGkKhU­.dpuf

I named her after nature
she came wobbling to me
from behind a flower vase
petals clinging to her soft fur.

No other name would have suited
this little bouncy pet
better than 'petals'

she just wanted that name
all for herself.
an extra biscuit for you today.

Author Notes

My Labrador  named herself.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 12 days ago

Spilling ink on daily fluff is a credible past time
one never knows when gems are unearthed in rambling
along on a slow lane watching as the world cruises by.

poets do this all the time, just tuning into the deep caverns
of the mind, searching for those hidden trinkets that were
probably stored away  in a lifetime of looking
sometimes intentionally, most times unconsciously.

then strike! the words and its magical meanings
come together in a wet, juicy kiss
and the fires jump alight in the darkness of the mind
and  roar with  the pristine clarity of metaphors
similes and poetic nuances that rarely appear
in normal  insipid conversation.

Everyone who writes, experiences this torrential surge
of raindrop-like writing sometimes with hailstones
often with snowy winds and chill structures that
weave in and out of unexplored tunnels somewhere
deep within the muse.

Write if you must.....did I just write that?

Author Notes

Backdrop to continued writing. Watch the world go by but take from it the best you can. Be aware.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 11 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11584264-On-writing-as-a-habit.......-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.PBt­DtRDm.dpuf

I could see plainly, that it was a gold embossed invitation
to taste the struggle to escape from the *******
of marriage and grown up kids
and years in a sanctuary of vows controlled
by possessiveness and pain.

Yes, I wanted to kiss you too
but that would mean I would have to slip
out of this armour of similar façades
and run through all the same vows
that turned pages in my throbbing head:
infidelity this, infidelity that
and: remember we have partners!

Yet I was first to reach across  these fragile
explanations and swing my arms
around your neck to draw your closer
to my pounding heart and pulse. The desire
broke every rule and shattered the
6th commandment into fragments of memory.

Just this once our eyes closed and lips locked
and we quietly left all our attachments and excuses
at the doorstep of destiny
and wondered what kind of chemistry
breaks us free from  all the things
we swore should not happen
but did happen. Next ?

Author Notes

No further explanations.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 3 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11595922-Lipstick-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.jdXzuyFs.dpuf