My mother never appeared in public
without lipstick. If we were going out,
I’d have to wait by the door until
she painted her lips and turned
from the hallway mirror,
put on her gloves and picked up her purse,
opening the purse to see
if she’d remembered tissues.

After lunch in a restaurant
she might ask,
"Do I need lipstick?"
If I said yes,
she would discretely turn
and refresh her faded lips.
Opening the black and gold canister,
she’d peer in a round compact
as if she were looking into another world.
Then she’d touch her lips to a tissue.

Whenever I went searching
in her coat pocket or purse
for coins or candy
I’d find, crumpled,
those small white tissues
covered with bloodred kisses.
I’d slip them into to my pocket,
along with the stones and feathers
I thought, back then, I’d keep.

My hero bares his nerves along my wrist
That rules from wrist to shoulder,
Unpacks the head that, like a sleepy ghost,
Leans on my mortal ruler,
The proud spine spurning turn and twist.

And these poor nerves so wired to the skull
Ache on the lovelorn paper
I hug to love with my unruly scrawl
That utters all love hunger
And tells the page the empty ill.

My hero bares my side and sees his heart
Tread; like a naked Venus,
The beach of flesh, and wind her bloodred plait;
Stripping my **** of promise,
He promises a secret heat.

He holds the wire from this box of nerves
Praising the mortal error
Of birth and death, the two sad knaves of thieves,
And the hunger's emperor;
He pulls that chain, the cistern moves.

i’m fighting with gravity
to the death- until my head rests,
empty as my belly
on this false-porcelain floor-
skin waxy as laminate over
these heavy hollow bones
waiting for freedom-
liberation from this sullen casing.

i shake, manic-
blood pressure in the basement,
nauseous from diet pills and anxiety.
jittery, stare at the ceiling-
a spider, stick-limbed, teases me,
but here’s the silver lining:
no curds or whey coating
my shining insides.

i am stronger and brighter than ever
as black swims in my vision-
light-headed from malnutrition,
i wrap fingers around my wrists
to make sure i haven’t escaped my limits.
the mirror doesn’t lie, but it won’t snitch.
we’ll keep this surreptitious.

spilling my bloodred guts, my blood,
won’t make me wither,
and confessing won't save me either.
this red ribbon stays tied around my wrist.
secrets kept keep me stable
clinging to my only success,
self-confidence cellophane-wrapped
in my absence, my transparence.

the whispers don’t mean a thing.
i am frantic on a wire frame,
white noise on parade.
the ground can only hold me for so long.
i'll sprout wings from my ribcage
and float away.

Crew cut kiss curl stood
above the goose steeping generals
with empty heads and olive green
jackets
dangling aluminium  war medals
for shooting ducks across the border
flying over Seoul

“Nfeuirok2fmdfiwe384194u3ujriwejm"
crew-cut kiss curl yelled.
“I told you 091874874814729”
( his swedish education was now showing!)

The train pulled out of pyongyang
with two thousand dead
that fed the famine. Only the driver
was alive clutching a loaf of bread.

stacked with cardboard cutout missiles
atop 1920s tanks and
painted with bloodred honesty
the entire nation goose stepped
to crew cuts orders.

He was as nutty as a fruitcake
but nobody laughed when he loaded
his only nuclear missile to bring down
the last remaining duck heading to Siberia.

Ha ha!

Author Notes
This is not a joke. Or is it?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

The next time someone says that
someone else is skin and bones
I'll say that they don't know
what the heck they're talking about
because they haven't seen you
and the way your skin grips tightly to your
tired old bones
the way it sags in some parts
because there's barely any bone to cling on to
or how your skeleton of a body
just lies there uncomfortably on the bed that isn't your own
I can hear you crying out for home
you are the epitome of skin and bones
skin and bones
skin and bones
you are the epitome of skin and bones

But you are the strongest skin and bones I know.

I've never seen you in pain before.
Not even when you cut your finger
or fell down the stone stairs
You complained about everything and everyone else but
not once did you complain about your bones creaking
or back aching
or feet hurting
or knees shaking.
You never told me when you were sick.
I'd only find out from the medicine bottle beside your plate
or from Mom who'd say.
You never told me you were sick.
I only found out from Dad and the way
your body slowly faded every
single
day.
I found out from your headaches
your new scars
your bloodred skin in some parts
your speaking
your breathing
You struggled with your  breathing
yet you refused to be confined
because you wanted to make sure
someone would take care of me.
I can take care of myself!
I should be the one taking care of you so
why would you...
how could you...

You are the strongest skin and bones I know.

But I saw you in pain today.
I didn't think that
it would hurt me that much
to see your face white and crying
your brows knitted together
your bony hands clutching your stomach.
You didn't want me to see you so
I left the room because even in your agony
you didn't want me to watch.
I bet you were pressing the cancer down, telling it,
"I'm not going
The eldest hasn't graduated
The youngest isn't in high school yet
and I still need to teach the second to make chocolate cake."
Or maybe you were telling it,
"Stop it.
My apo* shouldn't see me like this.
If I'll go, I'll go quietly.
I know when I'm defeated.
Just stop the pain
because more than me, it's hurting them.
Stop."

You are the strongest skin and bones I know.

Lolo was a fighter.
He fought it tooth and nail.
They gave him a month
He showed them a year and a half
because he refused to go down
without a battle
without seeing the face of
the grandson he'd been waiting for.
He saw him and held him.
He was hairless and his lungs were blackened,
but he saw him and held him.
But you are a fighter, too.
In your own way.
You don't want to fight like he did
no, you don't want us to see you like that.
You fight with your eyes
with your silent love
with the way you finally let my rough lips
brush against your soft forehead today
with the way you gripped Mom's hand tightly
for the first time
with the way you let my brother clumsily kiss your eye
with the way you let us stay the whole day
even though we were kind of sort of rowdy
with the way you want to go home
with the way your lips silently
formed an amen when we prayed for you.
You never did that before.
I know you'll keep fighting like that
and I know you know when it's time to fight
and when it's time to surrender.
I don't know what's going to happen
but please promise me you'll surrender in peace
without pain
without troubles
without fear
and please, before you go
I want to tell you that

You are the strongest skin and bones I know.

petals
in the wind
floating gently
to their final destination
bloodred scarlet
already started
to wither
in the gentle
wind.

sparks
fly
from an explosion
sparks
turn to flames
petals turn to ash.

ashes
in the wind
floating gently
to rest
upon
a crimson
bloodred
flower.

you burn me
yet you soothe my wounds with your words

i set you on fire
and then lead you to the river

you are the flame
offering the light to find my way

i burn you
and abandon you in pain

you set me on fire
then hand me the oil

i am the flame
you try to escape

we destory
to build back up

together we burn brighter
our fire shining bloodred

together we create a flame so high
it swallows our surroundings

we stand in the middle of the ashes
and look at each other

how irresistible is the strawberry ripe with bliss,
dripping with bloodred ecstasy.
how beautiful is the mouth that feeds on this,
a vision from my carnal fantasies.
how mesmerizing are those lips that kiss,
stained with red and tempting me.

how jealous am I of the strawberry you hold,
in your bloodred stained gravity.
how I want to taste the passion you control,
and throw myself into your rhapsody.
how I want those lips to dance with heart and soul,
upon mine own with sensuality.

I killed a man in my sleep last night.

strange albino maskface
cueball head coated in alabaster
greasepaint of a clown
skin white as the sharpened teeth
tearing through a bloodred slit of mouth
that wound the only color in his face

he was keeping me there
in the darkred room with no windows
holding me there in fear
terrorizing me
torturing me
delighting in it
consuming my fear like a drug
lusting after my pain
pleasuring himself with it

It had been a very bad day for me.

but then he brought Her in
so She could see what he had done
witness the mess he was making of me
brought Her in so I could see
the pain and the fear twisting Her beauty

but then he lost himself
in his lust and hunger for our degradation
he leaned down
face to "face"
pressed his sickening skin to mine
to whisper in my ear
all the things he was about to do to Her

He shouldn't have.

my hands were on his head
fists closed around ears
and pulled
thumbs went into eyes
and sank
and his bloodred mouth opened in glorious tortured screaming
my teeth clamped down
tearing into his bottom lip
with everything i had
i pushed and pulled and tore and ruined
eyeballs popped wet and cold like rotten grapes
ears gave in came off ripping strips of cheek revealing bone
lip tore down down down over chin and neck and red flowed free
free as i felt
free as i now was
as we now were


and i looked to Her
worried for us both
for so many things
and I saw Her
standing shocked
and there was no more fear in Her eyes
and there was no more love in Her smile
there was only the dumbfounded awe
of the newly awakened

all i felt
was justified

There's a crowd of pitch black unicorns at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert.
A crowd of pitch black unicorns moving their onyx hooves and horns
at the rhythm of drones dressed in electric guitars. An acoustic break follows.
The vibrations of the music and dancing cause purple flowers to grow,
purple flowers weaned on blood and sticky black tar. There's a crowd of
unicorns dancing at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert feeding on ladybirds crisps
and dragonflies sticks, that once home will play vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
The purple flowers grow into vines and try to smother the unicorns
to prevent them from listening to bloodred-dyed vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
Meanwhile in the corner of a museum S. Teresa of Avila's statue animates by itself, walks
to the window and throwing itself crumbles into a thousand of pieces of marble.
The seventh seal has not been opened yet but the ninth the eleventh and the seventeenth
exploded already, cracked their own wax and started spreading tongues of flames
and water to decimate humanity. A woman dressed in a fifteenth century scarlet outfit
leads the pitch black unicorns to salvation creating a safe haven for them
in Manchester and another one in California. They have in the meantime gone bonkers
and started feeding on each other. Equine teeth suddenly grow carnivorous jaws.
Nothing is left in the two oasis apart from a puddle of blood and a pavement of corpses.
It's 7 a.m. Chelsea has not yet finished her concert and her music blossoms around
played by the mystic turntables of fire. That which remaineth is pitch black light
and the breath of aeons lingering here and beyond and nowhere.

IV. Isaiah

If ever on the moors in seeking
Zarephath she faltered—
White of gossamer and lamb—

And the well in running over
Colored bloodred clay
Lapis Lazuli, sweetened to dewpoint

As for what it meant
To those that saw and waited
Prophets and disciples of an
Instant; bear witness to the
World reborn (not premeditated)

At muddy dawn in unloved scrubland plots
Subsequent to love running sacred between
The pages of an unloved tome, a fissure

What is a truth?
Could I reach out
And touch you?

What holds your heart, Elijah?
Who can you see beneath the glass
Who stares back from the bottom of a raindrop
Flashing past before convening
With the ground?

Did you know, my dear,
I stem from the disillusionment of ground
And the resurrecting of fraught winter
Sky?
Did you know,
I am alive and dying to go, now,
To arise from Pelas and walk free in sun again?

I want to love the rain
So that it knows

I want to lavish love upon your
Lips, your hands,
Your neck that holds
Your temples, the gaps between
Your ribs, and vertebrae, and 50 billion stars

My homeland!
You have been watching your crippled borders
with wistful looks for gloomy centuries
Soon we will wipe your bloodred tears
after heroic and holy adventures

Yet you are in a deep disappointment
because of the hands lent to the unscrupulous
But never unlearn the destiny ever:
history is always betrayed,
talents are envied,
virtues are misused...
They love politics, not the history,
'Cause they have a historical fear
and it reminds them how they had been abused...
I have found even their "sumptuous" justice
which is carried in their ***** bulky pockets...

My dear,
It is very near,
In Karabakh, the stars will twinkle in a joy
50 million times I will mention your name
and to Jıdır we will be running bare feet.
The echoes will fill the preconceived ears
In Shusha, I will call you,
In Tabriz, we will meet...

The bloodred Sun rises.
Misplaced souls and victims stuck in the upper parts of the atmosphere
giving the rays their ominous colour.
Blood particles risen from dead bodies float high in the air
painting the sky in orange-red.
Clouds form where humidity is highest, travel west
to a grey society, with hazed heads
where it rains Dead.
Blood reigns on our hands. Emphasis on reign.
Silently participating, masters of passiveness.
Shackled minds, broken chest
every infant born deaf
For sheep speak and think the word of the flock.
So wisdom's lost, past mistakes made will
eventually lead up to another rainy day.
This vicious cycle will stay the same
the climate acts according to our rainy ways.
For the smell of rain and the taste of blood
is ironically the same.

The sound of a heart breaking
Is louder than the headphones make your music
Louder than the siren alarm of a fire
Louder than the scream of the executed mind
Louder than the engines on the takeoff to the bloodred sky

But it is misunderstood
Simply because you are the only soul
Who can hear your heartbreak.

Imperfection unparalleled
Flawed like flies on ****
Cold like that ***** November
******* frigid
And aloof
Come now, tell me what you see
Can you read my painted face?
Can you kiss my coloured lips,
Or see past the black lines that block my eyes?
Fortress impenetrable
Impregnable
Quite impressive really
But also impossibly sad
I can fake confidence like you’ve never had
Do you like me in my party dress?
All legs and eyelashes
All smiles and camera flashes
Cheap wine and car crashes
Find me alone in my college bed
Naked from the neck up
Dreaming of someone who would love me that way
And praying that someone could be me
Drinking copious amounts of black tea
And waiting out the winter
Call me the great pretender
I’ll wear that title like a badge
Because paralyzed by insecurity
I still manage to drink and dance so beautifully
Wake in the morning
6 am
to stich up a fresh face
face the day with unmatched grace
and fabulous poise
wink and wave at older boys
then rip your guts out in the dark
slice the pain and swallow
puke it out until you’re hollow
pray for revelation
or salvation
maybe a vacation might suffice
here’s a piece of fine advice:
prayer is all we have.
And as for me
I’m evergreen and office pine
Jagged cliffs, an infinite decline
Bloodred bleeding valentine
Just a few heartbeats from a flatline.

Falling asleep to love songs i'll never hear
Knowing that I'm dependent on the one thing that I fear.
I wrote my skin a letter today
'I love you,' It said, 'but never again play.'
Looking outside at the bloodred moon
Wishing somehow for a deeper cocoon.
Feel the lines underlying my eyes
Each one fought a tear for a man in disguise.
Fingers made of ashes, heart made of lead
Can't seem to repay in gold, the one that for me bled.
Patterns prevail, vibrants on which to set my mind
But not even the pen, to me will be kind.
Gather up your children for I come around at dusk
May try to steal a precious gem to fill this empty husk.
Bed of fresh snow, sheet of ancient lanterns
Lying in numbness, whilst thought of being woman, turns.

the cold light of day reigns:
concrete, metal, glass, towers
the "system" turns humans into numbers
new york city is full of giant rats

pregnant with the outflow of frustration
in the moonlight, their teeth twinkle
bloodred maws, spiky fur, darkgrey
i don't want to become a rat

"you gotta keep a sense of human"
a quote by earl simmons, a.k.a. dmx
lord, gimme shelter, gimme strength
bornheim, germany, yonckers, usa

regardless where we are; who we be
this line hugs my son nicholas,
and i do love eden, my daughter
THEY ARE LIFE. THEY KEEP A SENSE OF HUMAN.

i'm max, and i'm not trapped in placelessness
gotta stay clean, will meet my kids again
trance is not life, it's the aberration of escape
my weakness is my strength, i got it in me

like a greenly glowing marble of hope  
drugs don't change the world, but you
as i was laying in a puddle of sweat,
i prayed to god: "pleeeease let me live"

couldn't breathe for a moment, fear of death
the addiction for the trance brought me there
i gotta keep a sense of human; for myself
i gotta keep a sense of human; for my kids

I know what it’s like when a soul dies
For a Sunday night surprise tainted my pair of heart eyes
On my bed sprawled a man and sweet Clementine
She met his lips with ones that were formerly known as mine

In shock, I hastily began a procedure vaguely resembling a seizure
My mind’s eye saw how I was confused and misused
So quickly came the chill, putting the warm parts of my heart to disuse
A darker side of psyche was ruefully deployed
I turned empty, a void, bona fide schizoid

My fingers now around their throats, I became Death’s harbinger
Love-borne vengeance made corporeal, a cheater’s swan singer
I caught their eyes with mine, bloodred from scornful blame
Turns out souls and bones break quite the same

She sipped her salt water and
wore glasses rimmed in a bloodred hue.
Behind them, watery blue eyes glistened.
Not sparkled,
Mind you.
She sniffled into her hand:
"I've got this dreadful cold!"
Makeup smeared and creased in wrinkles that had nothing to do with getting old.
She lifted her lips to reveal her teeth once in a while.
But not once, I tell you,
Not once,
Did she smile.

a face of stone and bloodred eyes
he is not dumb, he is not wise
a vampire, dressed in black attire
ruler of the world, lobby boss, a rock

a fierce narcissist being hurt
even by your friendliest words
knife-like fingernails, teeth spiky
he slits you up, devours your heart

cannibal lecter style for real
he just does not know how to feel
psychopathic soul, a tall goon
ruling from a bone-made throne

you can not make a deal with him:
he's like a bank and always wins
your family is dead my friend
today is your turn: you will burn

barbeque-images, intestines
human-scented steak with bloodshakes
festival of gore, you creature
since you are the vampire's feature

humans come, humans go, you know?
a vampire does not bother
he will tear your body apart
to carve a poem into your flesh

Flower petals, soft
Colored like cream
Hints of pale rose splashed on the tips
Hold the flower carefully,
and it won’t ***** you with its thorns
Caress the petals, feel them, so soft
Touch your lips to them gently
The bloom will open for you, open
to reveal its bloodred depths, passion
Hold the flower carefully
until it opens
Then keep a tight grip
and caress the soft petals, cream and rose.

her soul was the flavor of anarchy
and he knew he wanted a taste
silver roses and bloodred flame
to win her heart was a lovely game
he kissed her in the rain
and she touched him without shame
he wanted her heart
but only got pain
she played around
with the strings of his heart
but she sometimes feared
she would tear them apart
a flicker
or flame
a bite
and a taste
of her
anarchy
soul.

Stewing in his cave
Never alone said the bad one
He wept at his life, incomplete
Over a hill in the distance went the sun
Resting headaches on the bloodred horizon

Awaken the bad one
Stop dreaming bad one
Far away
Never alone said the bad one

Caressing the distance with his watery eyes
Peeling the scars with his gritted teeth
Warming the bones
Never alone
Oh
Never alone
Said the bad one

Where have they gone?
A flicker behind him
A memory
An unquenchable thirst
Chasing a the end of a dying drumroll

Never alone said the bad one

Burning bright, scorching flames of hell
to consume all that which still remains
to disintegrate and turn to ash
fueled by the fear etched in our veins

A true nightmare, full of rotten death
creatures born of terror and sin
in the deepest darkest depths of hell
burning scars on their bloodred skin

Hungry for flesh and eager to ****
they will show no mercy, no remorse
as the infernal fire embraces its victims
witness the blood of a thousand wars

The truth lies shattered, meaningless now
the air is poison, and imminent is doom
armageddon rains down from the sky
take a final look at the burning moon

Pray to a God, oblivious to your woes
no help will come from the heavens above
angels get slaughtered, guardians of men
now behold a world bereft of love

Excruciating, the pain and suffering
agonising, the dreaded state of our kind
neverending, the intense bloodshed
forever defiled, our state of mind

it was, just one step.
not looking the right way,
at the right time.

a screaming hissing dragon
sound...
and then kaput!
i was down among the dead.

sitting in a room,
walls bloodred,
and decorated, tickertape style,
with all the things,
i'd left unsaid.

there was one window,
through which i saw...
what my life could have been.
if not, for an, unlucky draw.

there was no door.
and the floor was tiled,
in regrets and tears.
the light, filtered through,
a crystal chandelier,
of my fears.

i no longer sleep or wake.
but yet, am suspended
in this nightmare state.

and every afternoon,
at, four seventy five
the red eyed god.
checks that i breathe.

and always, he says
just before he leaves.

if you, had looked both
ways,
this would not have
happened,
you would have seen the bus, that left you, squished and flattened

and that,
is when it registers,
once more....
this is hell.... i am dead
and here forever....

and the red eyed god,
laughs and says,

are n't you clever!!!

he then leaves.

and  i remain,
wishing i could,
replay that moment
again
when i step down,
off the curb
in front of a bus.
going to some
unknown suburb.

Wide awake, hyperreal,
Drifting in and out and back, daze of dopamine and clouds of smoke curled up in your fingers and around your neck,
I can't help myself,
Cross myself beneath a bloodred sky, seven times for each sea and continent,
Close my eyes and I disappear into the space, I become formless and liquid and I dance across the room in perfect repose,
I solidify somewhere in your shadow, nervous silhouette naked against an electric backdrop, become tangled up in the nuclear fusion of a kiss, tongues tracing bones and bones buzzing hallelujahs for the street lamps to fall asleep to,
Heavy daze, marijuana moonlight, thick as liquor dripping down my neck just like, just like, just like honey, honey, what strong teeth you have,
You're hyperreal in this light,
I can taste your battery acid veins from here,
Like sweat and wine and fragrance,
Sweet energy, sugar cane,
Dreams and cosmic visions,
Starlight, starlight, come into me
Fill this space and ignite this body,
Listen to the sky, they're playing our song,
Shoot me again cause my soul is still dancing,
I lean close, heat and static,
I whisper in your ear,
All that is solid melts into air,
All that is holy is profaned,
Let us desecrate this earth,
Let us bring gods to tears