Two people both alike in character
Of the opposite sexes
Sit across a candlelit dinner
In a lovely, fancy restaurant

The room is incandescently lit
With a dimness that balances between ever so bright and ever so dark
Allowing for a gold tinge to envelop the restaurant
But not gold enough to take away notice of the lit candle set upon the White table cloth

The waiter appears and asks the couple
What they would like for dinner
The couple order the food and drink
Much to the waiter's delight the food and drink is expensive

The waiter returns shortly
With a bottle of their finest Pinto Noir
And pours the blood-red wine slowly
Into each of the couple's glasses
And leaves the couple to sip upon their sweet sin delicately

The food is laid out
Triumphant in its debut
A vast smorgasbord of entries
Including frog legs, crab, and delicious ****** steak

The couple prepare their silverware for the battle that is eating

The man stabs his knife into the ****** steak
Cutting it open and spilling the juices all over his plate
He stabs the meat with the fork and guides it toward his mouth
And slowly but surely chomps upon it with the strength of his fine jaw
And swallows the meat into the unexposed mystery that is his stomach

The woman begins to mutilate the frog legs with her knife
Cutting into the once moveable limbs
And stabs the limbs with her fork and brings it to her mouth
And delicately bites the limbs and politely chews
And swallows it into her fine and precious insides

The couple then split the crab legs
Using their bear hands they split the shells open
And remove the meat or **** it right out of the shell
They swallow it whole and do nothing with the shell
Leaving the shell aside to be as still as a carcass

The waiter arrives and asks how the food was
The couple obliged him with their satisfaction
The bill is handed to them and the couple pay it
Leaving a hefty tip
They then leave the lovingly dimly lit restaurant
To enjoy the night that is ahead of them

there is one truth of which i'm incandescently certain and that's that nobody can take away a truth as it darkens, a galaxy in a glass; and the truth is that i'd be the only ***** donor in a charity just for you because signals and signs have showed me your soul and you're grander than celestial poles

if i didn't know any better i'd suggest you're the sun and i'm the solar system and i orbit around you and i'm not too sure about humans having wings but imagine:

a snowy cabin some place away from civilisation, you and i and wholehearted communication, you and i and books and fictional integration, you and i and mind blowing realisations, you and i and wings outstretched souring across nations

you are the sun and i am the solar system and although i orbit you i'm never allowed to brush the surface, i'm guessing it's for a purpose so i admire from afar, a gaze stretched over constellations and the sound of your voice bouncing off stars into my hemisphere of tangled webs and ripened tears, the echoing trailing behind merely a souvenir

there is one truth of which i'm incandescently certain and that's this:

the only reason my brain hasn't stopped my heart from beating is because the thoughts of you are giving it meaning and it's hard to breathe with these overwhelming feelings but i'm coping because the broken glass holding my galaxy is healing

Curls.
Lengthened, stretching
Auburn curls.
Winding around the delicacies
Of profound life.
Growing incandescently
In a newfound, unsound method.
Vibrant with innovation,
Yet in the same instance, arid.

Questionable.
Irresistible.
Undefinable.
Desirable.
Allego­rical.
Many are awe-struck by this oracle --

She loathes her curls.

5:00 am - Happy New Year!

I look like I should be a musician not a poet.

"It's so easy being a poet
so hard being a man"
      - Charles Bukowski

----

5:14 am - Passing Rocklea, no sign of the dawn.

Coopers Plains station.
3 people get on.

Florescent lights cast a spell of sleep.
I wish I could sleep right now.
Eyelids droop like sad flowers  from a convenience store.
I write metaphors like a drunken amateur.

Trinder park - Sounds like a bad neighbourhood.
**** ME ITS WOODRIDGE.

Where even the McDonalds sign is ******.

XxXxxxxxx, Xxxxxx Xxxxxx :
She could be fun. So tight, she sometimes felt  illegal.
Tight and bald. I would slide up to the *****.
She loved it rough,
golden hair wrapped around my fingers
as she was pushed into the pillow.
She was loud in the mornings.
I could feel her tight ***
grinding against my thighs
as I ****** her harder  and harder.
Until I came :
either inside her.
Or on her chest.
Or in her
prim
pink
suburban mouth.
Tightening my grip on her hair as the hot ***** spurted against the back of  her throat.
The head of my ****, throbbing as she  gulped it down with silent satisfaction.
That only happened twice though.

----

5:37 am - The Dawn begins to rise over the Suburban Nation.

Final remnants of night
twinkle like stars
against the silhouette
of society.
House lights
Street lights
(and the omnipresent)
fluorescent light.

Beenleigh station - A pinch faced older woman gets on.
Business suit, lunch box.
Short hair, glasses.
Her earrings are imitation mother of pearl
(step-mother of pearl?)
She  sits next to a window covered in graffiti.
Prim, tight  mouth
incarnadine lipstick.

Over in the distance a smokestack cuts through the sky above the horizon.
Trees do mask the sun and sky.

"Hippies; they spend their whole life trying  to get to a microphone and when they do, they don't tell anyone  to *******." - The Wolfman.

----

5:52 am - One more stop.

The clouds  are the colour of smoke against the pearl blue sky.

----

6:00 am - Arrival.

Clouds are tinged with fire and blood
incandescently.
You can watch it spread and grow
with intensity.

Taxi driver  was  a foul mouthed Indian.

the push of my mind
falls into lavender fields
velvet night brushes against cheek bones
exposed skin floats in time
ecstasy is exposed through the flow of cold

the day unveils things too warm
instead, fall with me into the dark
as my mind incandescently
illuminates the world

Smoking American Spirits
Like that name is not sickly ironic
As I watch the moon
And blow your name
Out through my teeth.

After all of it
I still can’t decide
If I’m happy that you’re happy
Or hate you for leaving me
In the cold to gape
At a barren rock.

The moon is a visceral spirit,
Pundit of creation myths,
Vaudevillian purveyor
Of heavy handed profundity,
Reflects the sun
When nothing else can,
Means so much to so many;

The moon is an entropic
Collusion of earth-chunk
That happens to orbit us,
Objectively meaningless,

Communicating with the ocean
As ants ***** chemicals
Into each others mouths to converse.  

Staring together up into
The gaping gnash of space,
Humans give the moon its meaning
Just as two people falling in love
Forever inhabit midsummer nights
'Till one leaves in a haze
Of evaporating brain chemistry.

I really am happy you’re happy,
Because I really do love you
Even after everything,
And I really do hate you
Because it hurts so much
And you were so selfish,
Go **** yourself,
Why can't I feel both?

Just this silly girl,
Just two broken people,
Look at what we made Chlo,
It's hanging in the sky
Strung up with used filaments.

I love you and hate you still
Because knowing the moon
Is a barren rock
Makes what it has become
Incandescently, infinitely beautiful.

When I die,
bury me under a tree,
large and spreading,
so that I may give again to life
and be a home for breezes
and whatever birds
may please to make their home there.
Then climb the battlements
of my old and crumbling castle
in the air
and appreciate the spectacle
of a speck against infinity.

Go to my oak desk
and burn all love letters,
pure and singing though they are.
Let others learn love for themselves,
as I did.  It is best.

Then celebrate, inebriate.
Divide up my possessions
and sell a few to buy fireworks that burn
brilliantly and fast.
Raid my cellar, eat, drink, make merry and enjoy,
for tomorrow is unknown.

And when the revelers stagger home,
remember only that I loved incandescently and enjoyed.
Yes, there were futile crusades, furious fusillades and
wild charges against the windmills,
but I did love. Yes, desperately.
That's all.

So goodbye, my friends. Don't grieve.
Please believe that
the gift of love and
this scatter of words
is all I want to leave behind.
See - they flutter from that great tree
that stands against the blustering sky
out there, beyond the mist,
along the pathway to
forever.

better days
float though my memory
like an incandescently lit moon
we can pluck it from the sky
and hallucinate a sweeter tune
to hum as we walk
over granite grey roads;
and dead lines of thick chalk
a lonely sick moon
mourning the ruin
of its earth-mother love
we have taken and forsaken
like a little toxin
gulped down with water
eyes bulging.
the green tree frog asked,
how do you like you poison?

I love you.
Three words no wider than four letters long
That carry the whole weight of the universe.
Words we utter to each other so often,
Bystanders would consider them disingenuous.
But, baby, I mean every syllable.
When I look into your eyes,
When I watch you watching me,
My breath catches
And my heart feels oversized.
I try so hard to personify my love for you
In kisses, hugs, tugs, and strokes,
But kisses and hugs are created by candy makers
And tugs and strokes are done by artists.
Both of which, I most certainly am not.
However, I strive to convey my feelings for you,
Because I am sure of few things but this:
I am madly,
Ferociously,
Unbelievably,
Relentlessly,
Incandescently,
Everlastingly
In love with you.
I love you with a love that has never been given
From any other woman to a man.
I love you with an immortal love
That is once-in-a-lifetime
And can never be repeated.
Our love is holy,
Unconditional.
I. LOVE. YOU.

Straddled by a luscious peach
encased in a robust pelvic girdle embrace
the eye dances a slow sensual waltz
step by step reasoning the gossamer finery of petals
balancing in the beauty unsure
of what it really means.

Therein lies the misstery
and kisstory
of sensual persuasions drawn delicately
from an angular birds eye view
of the black iris beauty
incandescently glowing welcome.

How did the artist get her work
drawn so accurately
but from a mirror reflection
posing herself, lights shining
and aroused at the pearl like petals
opening and closing
at every stroke
of a hard brush and bristle.

Well done my beauty.
You have defied my aesthetic thinking
into visual poetic explaining.

Well done

Author Notes

"Black Iris" - by Georgina O Keefe.


The way this delicate Iris is drawn it immediately takes me into wondering how it got its lights and shadows and rich purple-black heads with such clarity. Were there lights reflecting off walls, candlelight dinners and sparkling wines beside the painting?  As art it is outstanding, but as a perception it draws me into the lighter  side of understanding it.

Most enjoyable trying to gauge its deeper meanings.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

I screamed to this man,
creating fists with my hands,
and my heart just ajar,
"You will never understand

The way the wind hits me harder
and the waves crash into me with more salt.
The way colors are filled with laughter
and the warmth crawls through my skin.
The mud is my mirror, I'm a child of the dirt.

Happiness is fickle friend,
coming and going as she pleases
with no notice of the way darkness
clings to my back with a claw full of poison
tempting and tipping toward my tongue.

There's been a fire in my belly
for as long as I can remember,
twitching and tingling up my spine
leaving her needles in my neck
to **** away at me like a leach.

And how love incandescently dances
in and out of my chest without care.
The way she dangles my memories
relentlessly taunting and haunting
as she sews my skull to the sky.

You could never understand." I cry.
He held my heart and I knew it was a lie
when he promised me peace and said,
"Let me try,

Lacklove and manless in Moloch
Vile ******* in Moloch
Moloch
In whom I set disinherited
Dispirited
Listing to Arvo Pärt
As civilisations wax and wane around me
As towers are raised to the sky
Left to rot
Then lived in
As the furnaces of the world whirr on incandescently
And as I try to use long words to make it all seem better
And as words finally fail

His soul was consumed by her. The very sun that once had shined so incandescently, had darkened. Anguish shriveled him into a freeze, what was he doing with the time he had left?

A sea of scratched blue marble,
    torn  and washed through the drought,
blanketing itself in one rushed and
tired blink, melting
  into my face.
Swimming delicately through my mind and
descending  … deeper deeper down my
core, into the ricocheting nothingness.
Dancing in the spacious goal.
Glowing incandescently with glee.
The scratched marble peaks out for a second at
the world,
  reality isn’t what its cracked up to be.
Slide back through your eyes and
into  the dark

the sun shines upon
the glass of my soul
and all I can feel
is your presence
glowing through all I perceive,
continuously projecting
outwards,
merging
into me,
reflecting
into every
experience of mine,
incandescently,
illuminating,
every thought in my mind

with your essence, I feel
like I'm flying
to new planes
of beingness,
where all
is blossoming
and blooming
to the rhythm
of our streams
eternal flow..

and all I can taste
is your lips,
with every breath
we take,
and all I can sense
is our bliss
soaking into
evey moment we make

see our love,
will forever
brighten up the sky
& with you
I am immortal
baby, tell me how could this die
and if u had an answer
I'd gently tell you
"There's no need to tell a lie"
Cause when it's all said and done,
we'll always be together ,
like stars, endlessly floating on by..

Waking up in the middle of the night
And the train is howling out of sight
In the fury of dreams we were meant to be
Reunited incandescently
But sometimes you know that the moment is lost
You never get the chance to count the cost

And your heart is low
And your scars are cruel

The sun comes up and the light's in your eyes
But you can't help drowning in goodbyes
In the fury of dreams we were meant to be
Reunited incandescently
But sometimes when you know the moment is lost
You never get the chance to count the cost

And your heart is low
And your scars are cruel

You should turn the page and soldier on
But something heart-shaped from your chest is gone
In the fury of dreams we were meant to be
Reunited incandescently
But sometimes when you know the moment is lost
You never get the chance to count the cost

And your heart is low
And your scars are cruel

Six surprisingly short months were the only moments of her life that mattered to her- that ever existed in her memory, that she would never erase, or could, even if she begged herself to. They were rather the moments that defined her life and made her realise what living really meant. Oscar Wilde once said, ‘Most people exist, but they do not live’, and to admit that she understood it was an in-between thing, because she understood the concept of it, but did not walk in the concept of the phrase until Iskandar came along. And made her walk for those six defining months that changed her entire biological being.
Iskandar had the cards in his hands but he was shaken by his demons- the self indulging thoughts that crept up to him incessantly ever since his heart was broken by the one person he trusted not to, and he tried to pick himself up but never could because he had these walls built in his head to shield himself from anymore granules of pain. But she saw that those walls were in fact not the usual walls that consisted of bricks, they were mirrors that reflected images of his past and his innermost thoughts- and she saw that through him, yet did not ever tell. He admitted to her that he felt unworthy of ever being truly loved by anyone, given his completely monstrous past, and he told her to run away from him while she still could because she was not binded to him at all, but she stayed. She was deeply fascinated and intrigued by his past, and oddly enough, found them beautiful as it became the reason why she was pulled in.
And they wondered what she saw in him, because those who had seen her, thought of her as being extremely easy on the eyes, but the ones that knew her, inside and out, thought she was beautiful. They did not understand, and could never see what she saw through her eyes- where others saw a disfigured image, she thought of it as being incandescently pristine. They knew not why, and kept wondering over and over, why a girl who has spent her entire life dodging men, in spite of having many lined up fighting for her heart, would fall in love with a man who is not any bit better than the rest? He had insecurities, countless faults, made heaps of wrong turns in the past and a blurry future.
But yes, she loves him.
She is in love with him, unconditionally.
And she has finally understood why “Love is blind.”

There I was becoming apart of a time unknown to me, with a woman I had barely met. "I'm going to tell you a story.", she said.
"This sky you see above you was once a bright romantic vision to gander upon. I used to ponder  each night of all the lessons that could be taken from such a vast wondrous space,  but over time it darkened, you couldn't even tell the night from day. Only empty space was left. Yet, despite this , it's mystifying spell was only strengthened and my curiosity was brighter than ever before."
She spoke of the irrefutable wisdom each had to lend, how neither light nor dark were more significant than the other because they were indifferent.

That black sky that once shined incandescently became the first wonder of my world. My god, what a cold sight it was.

there is a quote from a movie i love
and it talks about being perfectly happy
the main character has completed her arc
she has finished her great journey
and now
she is perfectly happy

perfect happiness

i cannot claim i know of its existence
it might not live in my reality
i think that i am one of those people
who must venture out alone
and might never return
might never finish my journey
never reach perfect happiness
but perhaps i will reach fulfillment
and i think that would be good enough for me
good enough that I may be at peace
at last

I wont write you a ****** poem
I'll write you the universe
But it wont look like how you imagined it
But that's life i guess
Please just remember me as you dreamed of how i was
Do not think of the tragic reality
Keep your eyes closed to shadowed corners of my imperfect mind

Hold hands like two gods intertwined in the fractal light of infinite creation
Not like two awkward almost grown people reacting to hormones and insecurities

It's what we want to believe
It's what the world is

And after working that desk job and paying that pension is success and happiness the same?
In the end we just turn into worm food
Do i really want to spend any time doing the safe thing?
I want to jump into loving you
And by loving you I am encircling the entire universe in endless love. It's more then love. Love is what you text your crush at 2 am or before your parents get on a plane. We need a new word for love.
Something that means full and endless devotion and acceptance of all the pieces of the world good and bad. For all that is and was and will be. Wanting all of it to be raised to the highest level of heavenly divine. Wanting to hold the world in your heart and breath eternity into is so it can last as it is forever in it's incandescently beautiful pieces. That is how i love you . Thats how i want to love the world.
But instead i'll sit in a ball on the edge of my bed, doodling stars and wishing the words would come and i could stop writing ****** poems. Ill sit on the edge of my bed and wish i could write the universe...

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

At first I saw my future unraveling in my head,
I imagined spending an infinity with him,
From the day our heartstrings were plucked,
to the secrecy of our smiles on our wedding day.

But the image started to zoom and him became You instead,
and brightly glowed-incandescently joyous I am,
I never knew the depth of love I held for You,
till I saw Your face in my past, present and future dreams.

In his breathy love's eyes
The winds are wandering,
Their legs have sauntered
In a loose fit journey away
From the warmth of arms'
Embrace, under the stars,
A heart of days splendour,
Has waned into a wincing
Chain, propped and long,
Where even the dark sees,
They sooth incandescently
Blind.  How can love grow
In a vow hermetically cold
When all outsides' beams
Are breaking like the sun?

In his windy love's eyes
The winds are wandering,
Their legs have sauntered
In a loose fit journey away
From the warmth of arms'
Embrace, under the stars,
A heart of days splendour,
Has waned into a wincing
Chain, propped and long,
Where even the dark sees,
They sooth incandescently
Blind.  How can love grow
In a vow hermetically cold
When all outsides' beams
Are breaking like the sun?

.
In his breathy love's eyes
The winds are wandering,
Their legs have sauntered
In a loose fit journey away
From the warmth of arms'
Embrace, under the stars,
A heart of days splendour,
Has waned into a wincing
Chain, propped and long,
Where even the dark sees,
They sooth incandescently
Blind.  How can love grow
In a vow hermetically cold
When all outsides' beams
Are breaking like the sun?