"latenight" poems
latenight feelings
over daily existence
nebulous thoughts
under clear eyes
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
The setting sun has a way
of creeping up on you
with cherry red coloured dreams
nights as naughty as little gnomes
flitting about in escapades
of soft silk lusts.
Once the night embraces you
with its cloak of stars
velvet summer laziness
and tomorrows never there
its time to take the fullness of today
into the emptiness of tomorrow
and slip into that twilight zone
where all the magic materializes
on why we love these special spring days.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 2:32 PM UTC
silence
except the soft piano riffs of classic 60's covers
and the summer wind slipping past the parted windows
as we drive through a different world
where the daily countryside encapsulates
and the sentinel stars coagulate
into a calming blanket of condensation
where serotonin and melatonin miscibles reign supreme
silence
except for the soft squeeze of my hand in hers
the symphonized beat of two hearts stitched as one
and the subtle sigh of mother nature's languid lullaby
beneath the masked face of the full moon
we drive through a different world
and wonder how something so special
can be a secret
kept between
only us
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 11:27 PM UTC
I know no matter what I say or do.The words will sound so very hollow.For I am forever a stranger to you.Just a name in a sea of others.Fellow yarn spinners.Snakes and thieves friends and brothers.You cannot read the truth from a lie.The recluse writter the drunkand just another guy.A page filled with words andempty meanings.A seedy downtown theater that shows the best latenight screenings.My face is unknown but my soul is already there.Blind are the truths of a scetchy past.So I remain forever a stranger toanyone who may care.Beautiful eyes that go unseen.Shadows on a clear night.So is my nightmare and how is your dream?I cant say I'll ever know the uptown citys respect.Im more of the twisted citys slums and back alleys favorite reject.I remove the ******** to expose thethe gritty side of what to me is brutal and true.I ride through the darkest part night.To remain forever a stranger to you.
Feb 22, 2010
Feb 22, 2010 at 5:14 AM UTC
I'll see you around, but
not again on this empty floor,
the two of us in blankets, slept on our clothes,
woodgrain just out of reach.
Waiting at the station,
the 5 a.m. trolley home,
hands wrapped around my fare,
There's some memory of a dingy lastnight bar
where we chain-smoked through
the muted stop-motion of late-night,
whiskey breath and fingertips,
tracing the side of a face, the ends of nerves,
lost
in the traffic river crowd footfall,
at some patio latenight coffeehouse,
we were cinematic, mysterious under
the mercury lights that lit the sidewalk, that staged us
full, small, like hands wrapped around a cup with our name on it.
Oct 29, 2011
Oct 29, 2011 at 10:05 PM UTC
Thinking in sparked lighters that
sting your thumb and cut your
lungs
Glints in your eyes and burns in
that 0.2 of a second
Scarlet grapefruit that puckers your inner cheeks
Breakfast you've only seen on
Latenight Television, behind the couch, in secret
it's been years since they've
promised your order so where is it
you scream
You scratch, scathing, panting
promising to yourself
of sweetness
bitter sugar
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
I miss you
all this day
but I can't show it
by just telling you from a latenight text
or by just saying it in front of you
or doing something for you
because you will not read it, aren't you?
you will not hear it, aren't you?
and you will not assume it, aren't you?
because basically,
you really don't care about my feelings anymore.
/f.r/
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
A song for my beloved
A poem written by a poet
A rhythm of soul with no hatred
A long lasting love that will never be expired
If u wish for a happy day
I too will pray
Im so grateful to own these eyes
So grateful to see your smiles
What do you feel deep inside?
Why feelings you try to hide?
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
Now
I posted a poem or two
which grabbed the eyes
of a dozen or so
like glue;
but now I’d like someone to tell me
what I should do
1
I mean,
I got a few followers, right…
*“Latenight ****** started following you”*
said the notice from the website;
and: “ Moonface at Window started following you”
but I got no comments from the followers
so I have no idea what sort of people they are -
and now, hey, I’m so afraid of all these followers
(these Moonies and Loonies)
I constantly look back over my shoulders
to see if they are following me
And everywhere I go
every other person looks so sus
and when I’m out
(wont to water more often, as it happens at my age)
I visit public toilets (McDonald’s is often cleanest)
and I get this feeling
(deep down in me)
my followers are hiding
in the ceiling
watching me
dadadidado –
But please, O don’t look down on me!
And the rest of you decent people -
will you please tell me what to dadadidado?
2
And look,
I got all these likes -
which is good, right?
“Pimply Whanker liked this”
***** TouchBottom liked this”*
is all it says
And don’t you hate it
when they don’t leave a comment? –
And now, I’ll never know
what it is they liked…
Can someone fix me right -
what should I dadadidado??
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 8:31 AM UTC
wind whips around the eaves,
whistling by the Velux,
rattling the back gate.
which consequences do I own,
whose hands are inside mine,
what veins belong to me,
and where do they lead?
what if the walls don't hold tonight?
what if they crumble and break?
and I get ****** out -
the contents of my room
shooting through the sky,
burrowing deep into my skin,
piercing the clear, cold night?
___________________________
It's settling down now,
but you always knew it would.
These things pass, and tomorrow,
you'll collect the detritus scattered on the road.
You sink deep into the pile
of old blankets
and duvet
and wisps of remembrance
You're safe here
at least until tomorrow,
at least until tomorrow,
at least until tomorrow,
Feb 2, 2020
Feb 2, 2020 at 9:10 PM UTC
Lunchtime - I sit
In my corner
Watching
Tanya
She leans
Against a chair
One knee
Upon the seat
Slowly
I see
Her raise
The coke can
Full fat stuff
She doesn't care
It's that
I admire
A fullish girl
**** and ***
Round of face
Dyed red hair
Her name
Strikes me
Tanya
Sounds like ***
Instant guilt
Consumes
My thoughts
Far from pure
Tanya
Who I imagine
Naked on the floor
Atop my Bowie records
Tanya
Whose name
Has long
Been my favourite
Tanya
Tied - bound
Screaming
In the night
Tanya
Taking my hand
At a funeral
On a wet Tuesday
Tanya
In pink
My colour
Of ***
Tanya
Crying
At the sad part
Of the latenight film
Tanya
Crawling
Across the
Bedroom floor
She places
The red can
On the table
Not caring
Tanya...
Tanya...
Tanya...
Tanya......
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
jackson browne's Late for the Sky is an uncanny song
illuminating the moment right before you split
with someone you love
the latenight time when despite all the swerving
you see the end of the road
the grieving and inevitability
built right into the overtones
i liked it before i had a girlfriend
and when i had one and we built a world together
and broke up
i listened to it and shook my head in recognition
and thought what a good song
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 3:00 PM UTC
What would the world be like if there was a bunch of me's running around? Would it be a whole bunch of me walking around singing or would the world be walking around reading the book the color of water?
Would it be quiet like a desert or loud like how latenight in chicago in the rough part of the city is?
What about if i ask when you think about violence what pops in your head? I can tell you what I think about when i hear violence. I think police sirens , ambulance & hospitals.
Where im from you hear people being loud , people beggin for change?
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC