Just after the ebb and flow
of staying locked for a lifetime
in an earthly connection

comes an unknown
spectre
we can only guess

all those theories
from holy books and men
untested

we go because
we have to
your time is done

and the pulsating final
flourish
leaves behind a memory

shackled to those we love
until they too
must let go

of who we were
when we lived here.
once upon a time.

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

home at six
to a loose socket
in your thought
so mechanically
our minds churn like machines
and our bodies
wheels and cogs
of inane comfort

we climb into an elevator
to high landings
in a breathless finish
of our fires
blown out  by years

going at nine
every morning
the car driving me
ahead of what i'm thinking
******* unknown women
split image of the day

at six we will practise again
our machine like movements.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago

I reached deep into a pocket of words and assembled
you in perfect shape
eyes and lips and slender shoulder neatly placed
in exact position and then I kissed you
to breathe life back into me.

As each part moved in exact rhythm
ticking with precision I realised
that we made each other as a reflection
of a dream that was embossed with gold lettering.

Whenever the batteries ran low
I asked for your pulse and you willingly
shared power, and sprinkled it with laughter
and wonder and words of endearment
until I became so used to each single poem
in your repertoire of symbolic dialects.

Two seasons later we know
that clockwork emotions roll and tumble
with the same words that created
love between us.

Author Notes

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

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11585814-I-reached-deep-into-a-pocket.........-by-Marshall-Gass#s­thash.s4ECNwVy.dpuf

Dark seed
embedded in winters clutch
rinsed clear in
the dark ritual of rain
will burst out and bloom
kissed by sun and satin warmth.
Spring will grasp the meaning of wonder
and flourish for just enough time
before summer pushes for place again.

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

No I didn't. It was all pre-planned.
I wanted to see the stars come out
on your warm accepting lips
and bring the cosmos into our meeting
and I wanted to see if you would close
your eyes in that delicate moment!
You didn't too. Now I wonder why?

I guess you wanted to see
if my universe was locked
in that same embrace and if
( only if) I would melt deliciously
into that ice-cream moment?

But when we discovered that
we were both wide-eyed in wonder
our eyes closed automatically
into an inner self
where the doors locked and keys turned
to shut us into a private cubicle
where two people melted
as one.

Author Notes
Remember this moment?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

The fog rolls in billowing ******* open buttons undone
searching for those little crevices to hide
bringing the chill sensation of  a long sad winter
copying the slow warmth of duvets
and dreams woven in magic.

The fog will lift again someday and fly
into wide open spaces of freedom
testing the air for strength
climbing high over despondency
and solitude to a near heavenly spiral
where waits redemption.

Come now
dont let the darkness make you lonely
capture the light from the clouds
and spread the white light symbolism
into all your being until complete.
Let the fog pass.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 11 days ago

we climbed sideways up the steep mountain
fighting chill winds and caressing our goose pimples
as we reached the summit
where the views may have been like what jesus
saw on the mount
with the devil in attendance.

I will give you all this land
if your worship me, he said.

on a hungry belly things happen,
like skyscrapers full of food
and ***** dancing girls on tables
beckoning you to sin.
tomorrow has no promises
and thirst is a sip away in a stream
way down below.

as we sat at the tip we
looked down and felt how small
we were against this mountain,yet
balancing on a ***** as fragile
as yesterdays dream of plenty
we fell silent. miniscule.

the journey down raked up strange philosophies
of god and man and whoever created this
world from a pinpoint as dense as the emptiness
of our understanding of creation.

Once down we washed those questions
with pints of beer
and loud music and went home
satisfied we had, had a good day
climbing mountains and majesty.

my best friend never forget that day
when ten years later he said:
we were smaller then...
It must have worried him for a whole decade
that he had a question with no useful answers.

Author Notes

This is a real story. My friend joined a monastery just to find out how he saw himself in Gods creation. Even after a lifetime of learning, it bothered him that in the big scheme of things he was just a dot. Yet, he felt getting closer to the truth, was more satisfying than climbing any other mountain, once gain.
All it took was trip up a hillside.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 5 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11591928-mountain-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.6KphPWCY.dpuf

Forever. Come with an insight
burrowing deep beneath the psyche
stable and strong with rich meaning
its purpose tenfold.

Those which decay do not
hold court in my thinking.
Vanquished, they disappear. Permanently.

I keep the ones that stand out
like delicate pieces of art,
petals and lips and symbols
imbued with poetic life
strong.

I see them all the time
the ones that do not understand
what life sparks mean
to an eagle encircling
a rugged terrain
with crisp prey time  movement.

Within all the *** pourri
of mush and moonbeams
rises one that spreads wings
and flies with eagles
leaving kitchen hands
to clean tables.

I could name a hundred sacred poets
who have shared me with  imagination
and a thousand more
who have refused to ride the thermals
safely tucked in comfort zones
of silly comments.

Blaze the world.
Break you bonds
in the blood of knowing more!

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

I could have stapled your heart
on the right hand corner of   this page
written you abundant verses
or smoldered in absolute rage

Instead I wrote you a poem
recalling those abstract days
when we were young and foolish
and unsure of  so many ways

Today I sit here and  wonder
the things I sorely missed
the page fills rapidly yonder
from first time  we ever kissed.

Those dreams will never repeat
Those days  will never return
Together we shared and we parted
Our memories left out to burn

Just today I picked up a letter
Written in delicate hand
Of things we promised and said
Some silly, but mostly so grand.

I know that castles are built
From  simple innocent  fare
Time stamped and stored in a vault
Only you and I ever share.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 12 days ago

You must know this
no matter how you get to know it
that love supersedes all other emotions
and from that well there springs a deeper yearning
that pervades everything else. Unquestionably pure.

There will be wobbles and wisdom
and deeper questions on why
this is so
but it is those exact changes that make
Love stand out and shine
as if, it just belonged to us alone.

So take this poem
as a bond of love between us
and never let it go
no matter what happens
for in this complete abandon
there is only one thing that will bind us together
forever.

Love.

Author Notes
After journeying through a thousand poems and ten thousand different ways of saying things, there is only one emotion that stands out against all others. Love.

No matter how we say it, the simplest way seems the best. Just say it with everything poetic  in you.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

Whatever it is
that you have in you
its as magical as pulling a rabbit
out of  a hat and have the audience gasping.

That's what is special about you
you are able to squeeze comfortably
in and out of small situations
with the ease of baton waving
and you are able to swirl through rings of fire
swing on the trapeze of problems
and settle like a feather on the funniest
laughter of the day.

You are magical
no doubt, otherwise how could you
stay up so late at night
wide awake at the cooking range
making delicious food
for late evening guests.

I am happy to be a side show
as you go around  doing
what you do best
just being a mother
and always threatening
to pack me into the dogs kennel
if I ever go astray.

That's what I like about your tricks
they have won awards from everyone.
But I get to take the magician to bed
with my own type of magic!
Author Notes

Oh Yeah! What'll I get for this?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

There is a stillness
unexplainable stillness
precisely at the moment when reading through
all these poems. Flitting from one to another
bird-like, thought to thought, looking for cherry-like
ripe fruits of labour that lay dangling
in tasteful tricks that are ripe and ready
to be plucked and savoured
juices dribbling
down your chin.

Ah, poets write in visuals
and words placed carefully like a painting
with shades and colours and hues
that complement each other
in that crystal moment when the magic happens
and the finest of bright chandelier snippets
hang in the magic of metaphors
sparkling and splendid.

Its the tested and timid that write
in raw and ready lines
that sizzle along a page like  the complete abandon
of a nubile maiden, unable to hide her beauty
behind any couture of class or crass
ready to be taken, as is!

I love reading all sorts of poems
and especially the ones that sing
from deep inside the poet
with abandon. I love them all. Write on.
Author Notes

Saying it as I feel it and know it! Just today there are exceptional poets at work.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

Where have you gone today,
my only love?
the weather weeps its tears
and wears a dull grey overcoat
waiting to bring a deluge
of floods into my  already
chill  autumn of the just vanishing
warmth of your sunshine.

I check my phone every few minutes
but you have not opened the windows
to  let the best rays of your  sunshine
silence my searching with you presence.

I will wait here
watching through the mist
of the stained glass emotion
of your absence
until you send me a signal
that we are still connected
soulmates.

Author Notes

Did I just write those lines? I'm still at the window waiting for the window cleaner to bring the snow down upon my watching!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a day ago

In the stillness of simplicity your heart still beats.
If you listen carefully you can hear the muscles moving
and the blood coursing through your veins
even getting past the rich waterfalls that journey
ceaselessly up and down your being
for as long as you live.

If you listen to yourself,
search the insides of bone and bristle
deep within those compact spaces
there is respite and rest and wonder
at the magnificent shell within which
you carry your presence.

If you stop for a moment
and look through all the mirrors of your mind
you will  see reflections of a past to present
and glimpses of a  future. Profound.
There are connections everywhere
to the entire human race
to the unfolding universe
to the vastness of space and time
and the emptiness
within which everything exists.

You will come face to face
with who you are.

Sit still, listen and learn.

We met again after thirty five years
in a flash recognition of names and faces
and we planned to meet that one more time
to fill a vacuum of questions and answers.

It was a joyous moment as you ran
up the ramp at Toronto Airport
to circle me with your arms and hold on
as if never to let go again. Your husband watched.

When alone I held your hand, dreamed again
remembered all those times, we looked
but never spoke-yet knowing that somehow
we knew each other more than just looking.
I was too shy then, to reach out  and touch you.

Now with two grown kids, five continents apart
a world whizzed past us and my own son standing
at my side, I just wanted to say: I loved you
then in silence but I love you now  in words

Although  we live in different destinies
we are yet connected by some strange
knowing.

When I leave now I will wave goodbye
to you and your husband
taking with me a memory
that had four decades  to grow.

No one will understand what it feels like
to leave the best part of you behind.

It is no coincidence that we met again
on Thanksgiving Day.

Author Notes

True. Absolutely true.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

Hidden within the dense leaves and knotted lovers of trees
And roots and sly creatures lurking in the shadows of
an untidy mind-there reigns reason to seek,
satisfy all cravings for a life unblemished
in the rush and tumble of a fate pre-determined.

Where you were born and how you lived to become
part of this social structure built on the nuances
of rituals, so bred to burst you into bloom
as you tumble and twist in the days unfolding
in biblical proportions of trust in traditions.

The roots drive into the skin of the earth
and rest sublime to weathered ecstasies.
You are born again  in the forest of dreams
where your cards were stacked against a chain of events
that grew you into wondrous life.

At home in the sublime situation where the city rises
from the cemetery of the living
zombies go to work on busy black snakes, their tongues
twisting in and out of buildings and by- lanes
with bodies racing non-stop to  small cubicles
Gaining income for living, selling subservience
in the slave market of minimum wages.

The forest grows in a fertile plain embedded
in the minds of all people escaping from living
in the detritus of social norms. We are the roots.
Author Notes

We all belong to a social forest which has its own rules on who we are and how we survive in its ever expanding growth. There is little we can do to change those circumstances.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

Its not easy to cross an invisible bridge
with a friend on the other side asking you
to step over an taste what lies beneath
the flowing water of rapid emotions.

Lost worlds collide and collapse
in the thinking and knowing
the excitement that wraps itself
around your own safety harnesses
as you step into the void of trust.
One step and the pyramid of pleasure
will come crashing down into fragments
of excruciating pain.

But try we must - to span
the wide divide to reach out and touch
the other hand when the bridge
suddenly becomes visible.

Sometimes the bridge may lead to a nowhere place
strewn with broken dreams and feeble attempts
at crossing the vast expanse between
knowing and unknowing.

Author Notes
Real time experience. Happens once in a while. There are no reasons why it happens this way. The best ever poems are written just trying to figure this one out.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

as slow as the heart beats
in a void of no feeling
so does life breathe
in a space with no air

even as the sounds emanate
and the echo returns
from the void of months of waiting
so does understanding

i sit here
under this atomic tree
lost in a whirlwind of  explanations
unable to tune in.

stilled by the  seeds of contemplation
my mind finds a new river
that froths in its fury of  journeys
and settles into a calm stream.

i wait here for the oceans solace
and the escape from the turbulence
of knowing the words of the world
and the silence that resides in me.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 12 days ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11578157-silence-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.3qXsvg5X.dpuf

Its those little things so sweetly said, the firelight
captured in a moment and bringing a twilight
into sharp focus as the evening spills its wonders
on our day.

Its those things we knew that existed between us
not spoken, not proclaimed or shouted yet
the signs and symbols, gathered day by day
until we were sure we were reading the signals right.

Its the way we understood how we were inextricably
intertwined in some strange magical spell
that came upon us unexpectedly and drew
us into that same circle of knowing.

Maybe it was the voice, the words, the visuals
maybe it was the differences that found solutions
in the knowing, because it seemed built
on  a mountain of moments with memories
that spiralled us into whirlpools of love.

Even now, as we hold tight together
in this knowing we look back at the journey
we undertook in the knowing.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11552909-Its-the-knowing....-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.LnQVkWk4.dpu­f

There is a silence in the air
the art of unknowing tactfully
nothing stirs outside of me
the mind rages in a fire inside
wanting to know how things are
and where you are and what you're doing

Its best to know these things
before the distance slowly pushes
you and me apart
as if it was hard to stay locked in one place

But you know me by now
I wont come around searching
I will stop looking for you.
First because I dont want to face
the unhappiness of knowing
the truth. Its best left alone to decompose in itself.

Time will heal even the distances
and long after you are gone
and I'm able to understand how easily it
all happened. We will become empty shells
without an emotional ocean around us
lying on the sands of time
waiting to be discovered
by new relationships.

That is a strange way to see this break-up
but show me a better way and I will stay.

Are you listening to the fires burning
the crackling and blazing
the hissing and whispering?

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago