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"marshall" poems
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Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
The World NEEDS HelloPoetry (Please Make A Contribution.)
Afghanistan needs hellopoetry Albania needs hellopoetry Algeria needs hellopoetry Andorra needs hellopoetry Angola needs hellopoetry Antigua and Barbuda needs hellopoetry Argentina needs hellopoetry Armenia needs hellopoetry Australia needs hellopoetry Austria needs hellopoetry Azerbaijan needs hellopoetry The Bahamas needs hellopoetry Bahrain needs hellopoetry Bangladesh needs hellopoetry Barbados needs hellopoetry Belarus needs hellopoetry Belgium needs hellopoetry Belize needs hellopoetry Benin needs hellopoetry Bhutan needs hellopoetry Bolivia needs hellopoetry Bosnia and Herzegovina needs hellopoetry Botswana needs hellopoetry Brazil needs hellopoetry Brunei needs hellopoetry Bulgaria needs hellopoetry Burkina Faso needs hellopoetry Burundi needs hellopoetry Cabo Verde needs hellopoetry Cambodia needs hellopoetry Cameroon needs hellopoetry Canada needs hellopoetry Central African Republic needs hellopoetry Chad needs hellopoetry Chile needs hellopoetry China needs hellopoetry Colombia needs hellopoetry Comoros needs hellopoetry Congo, Democratic Republic is in need of hellopoetry Congo, Republic is in need of hellopoetry   Costa Rica needs hellopoetry Côte d’Ivoire needs hellopoetry Croatia needs hellopoetry Cuba needs hellopoetry Cyprus needs hellopoetry Czech Republic needs hellopoetry Denmark needs hellopoetry   Djibouti needs hellopoetry Dominica needs hellopoetry Dominican Republic needs hellopoetry East Timor (Timor-Leste) needs hellopoetry Ecuador needs hellopoetry Egypt needs hellopoetry   El Salvador needs hellopoetry Equatorial Guinea needs hellopoetry Eritrea needs hellopoetry Estonia needs hellopoetry Eswatini needs hellopoetry Ethiopia needs hellopoetry Fiji needs hellopoetry Finland needs hellopoetry France needs hellopoetry Gabon needs hellopoetry The Gambia needs hellopoetry Georgia needs hellopoetry Germany needs hellopoetry Ghana needs hellopoetry Greece needs hellopoetry Grenada needs hellopoetry Guatemala needs hellopoetry Guinea needs hellopoetry Guinea-Bissau needs hellopoetry Guyana needs hellopoetry Haiti needs hellopoetry Honduras needs hellopoetry Hungary needs hellopoetry Iceland needs hellopoetry India needs hellopoetry Indonesia needs hellopoetry Iran needs hellopoetry Iraq needs hellopoetry Ireland needs hellopoetry Israel needs hellopoetry Italy needs hellopoetry Jamaica needs hellopoetry Japan needs hellopoetry Jordan needs hellopoetry Kazakhstan needs hellopoetry Kenya needs hellopoetry Kiribati needs hellopoetry Korea, North needs hellopoetry Korea, South needs hellopoetry Kosovo needs hellopoetry Kuwait needs hellopoetry Kyrgyzstan needs hellopoetry Laos needs hellopoetry Latvia needs hellopoetry Lebanon needs hellopoetry Lesotho needs hellopoetry Liberia needs hellopoetry Libya needs hellopoetry Liechtenstein needs hellopoetry Lithuania needs hellopoetry Luxembourg needs hellopoetry Madagascar needs hellopoetry Malawi needs hellopoetry Malaysia needs hellopoetry Maldives needs hellopoetry Mali needs hellopoetry Malta needs hellopoetry Marshall Islands needs hellopoetry Mauritania needs hellopoetry Mauritius needs hellopoetry Mexico needs hellopoetry Micronesia, Federated States is in need of hellopoetry Moldova needs hellopoetry Monaco needs hellopoetry Mongolia needs hellopoetry Montenegro needs hellopoetry Morocco needs hellopoetry Mozambique needs hellopoetry Myanmar (Burma) needs hellopoetry Namibia needs hellopoetry Nauru needs hellopoetry Nepal needs hellopoetry Netherlands needs hellopoetry New Zealand needs hellopoetry Nicaragua needs hellopoetry Niger needs hellopoetry Nigeria needs hellopoetry North Macedonia needs hellopoetry Norway needs hellopoetry Oman needs hellopoetry Pakistan needs hellopoetry Palau needs hellopoetry Panama needs hellopoetry Papua New Guinea needs hellopoetry Paraguay needs hellopoetry Peru needs hellopoetry Philippines needs hellopoetry Poland needs hellopoetry Portugal needs hellopoetry Qatar needs hellopoetry Romania needs hellopoetry Russia needs hellopoetry Rwanda needs hellopoetry Saint Kitts and Nevis needs hellopoetry Saint Lucia needs hellopoetry Saint Vincent and the Grenadines needs hellopoetry Samoa needs hellopoetry San Marino needs hellopoetry Sao Tome and Principe needs hellopoetry Saudi Arabia needs hellopoetry Senegal needs hellopoetry Serbia needs hellopoetry Seychelles needs hellopoetry Sierra Leone needs hellopoetry Singapore needs hellopoetry Slovakia needs hellopoetry Slovenia needs hellopoetry Solomon Islands needs hellopoetry Somalia needs hellopoetry South Africa needs hellopoetry Spain needs hellopoetry Sri Lanka needs hellopoetry Sudan needs hellopoetry Sudan, South needs hellopoetry Suriname needs hellopoetry Sweden needs hellopoetry Switzerland needs hellopoetry Syria needs hellopoetry Taiwan needs hellopoetry Tajikistan needs hellopoetry Tanzania needs hellopoetry Thailand needs hellopoetry Togo needs hellopoetry Tonga needs hellopoetry Trinidad and Tobago needs hellopoetry Tunisia needs hellopoetry Turkey needs hellopoetry Turkmenistan needs hellopoetry Tuvalu needs hellopoetry Uganda needs hellopoetry Ukraine needs hellopoetry United Arab Emirates needs hellopoetry United Kingdom needs hellopoetry United States needs hellopoetry Uruguay needs hellopoetry Uzbekistan needs hellopoetry Vanuatu needs hellopoetry Vatican City needs hellopoetry Venezuela needs hellopoetry Vietnam needs hellopoetry Yemen needs hellopoetry Zambia needs hellopoetry Zimbabwe needs hellopoetry
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196
The deepest understanding between lovers stands majestically above the deepest abyss as if, unbreakable and pure in its unreachable, unbreakable bond. Whatever melts this emotion together was forged in a hotter furnace than ever found that only two people can understand. Rising above the highest tide soaring above tornadoes and typhoons and cruising along points of paradise available only to the two of them. How serene it feels to know that your own reflection mirrors in the other person and their every nuance is written into your own poems adding the rhyme and rhythm for your own journey together. Author Notes Feel like this at times? © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
The Unbreakable Bond
Oh yes! I had plans to woo you with roses and chocolates and other mushy make-up that might just rev up your fireworks Yet I knew deep inside it wouldn't work so well. So jugular it was condoms and plastic roses knotted in shoelaces painted and welded on a metal frame worded: I will take you to take me: Now! But you laughed and blew the condoms into balloons and spray painted the roses in silver and I used the shoelaces to hang my head in creative shame! Yet when we met on the deck of union for the first time the sparks lit up the nightsky and we slept curled up around each other like question marks Thats how we bought tickets to forever Crazy? I waited-you came! Author Notes Most enjoyable poem today. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Jaguar Jugular
I like Homestuck, Donald Duck, Ancient Greek Gaea, APH Hetalia, Marzia and Pewdiepie, Random bow ties, Doctor Who, That colour of greenish blue, Sherlock Holmes, Garden gnomes, Boy/boy **** Sweet tea, Left 4 dead, Books I've read, Minecraft, When I laughed, Yu-Gi-Oh, Gateau, Ender's Game, Notre Dame, World War One, World War Two, Mouse and shrew, Bugsy Malone, Jam scones, Birthday cake, Milk shake, Drawing art, Taking part, MLP, Shopping spree, Sleeping in, West Berlin, Random songs, When bells go **** Stars shine, My blood line, All my friends, The latest trends, Yuri much, And such and such, Fanfiction, A prediction, Doujinshis, Marshall Lee, RhymeZone, My touchscreen phone, I could go on, But that's too long, But my favourite is, Hello poetry - so don't diss!!
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC
What I like
Barack Obama Is a fork tongued devil Who supports abortions And homosexual marriage The Lord said His hand of judgement will come Against the U.S. The first devastation will hit There will be another right on its heels A series of devastating events Look to the skies---- (nuke) Look to the seas---(tsunami) Look to the earth---(earthquake) People being killed with guns Marshall Law The United States will fall Because of its wickedness The U.S. will decrease And Israel will increase It will happen These things will happen before His return The sword will be the nuclear war Drought from no rains Pestilence new strain of disease 5 year war Then famine Fill up storehouses Landscape of America will change Waterways will become poisonous Sun will emit flashes of radiation His hand is on the weather (Hand of the Lord) Ocean will come as far as the Rockies Geological plates will shift Russians will attack infrastructure Of the nation A nation of lies Darkness will overcome A deep darkness will cover The people Because they love the lies The Lord said to her, "Do not despair my children Out of the darkness Comes the glorious light." There will be Cities of refuge For those who know Him Intimately There will be a city of refuge Stay close and He will instruct you
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Dr. Patricia Green Receives Word From The Lord (Yaweh Will Destroy America)
The lawyers, Bob, know too much. They are chums of the books of old John Marshall. They know it all, what a dead hand wrote, A stiff dead hand and its knuckles crumbling, The bones of the fingers a thin white ash. The lawyers know a dead man's thought too well. In the heels of the higgling lawyers, Bob, Too many slippery ifs and buts and howevers, Too much hereinbefore provided whereas, Too many doors to go in and out of. When the lawyers are through What is there left, Bob? Can a mouse nibble at it And find enough to fasten a tooth in? Why is there always a secret singing When a lawyer cashes in? Why does a hearse horse snicker Hauling a lawyer away? The work of a bricklayer goes to the blue. The knack of a mason outlasts a moon. The hands of a plasterer hold a room together. The land of a farmer wishes him back again. Singers of songs and dreamers of plays Build a house no wind blows over. The lawyers--tell me why a hearse horse snickers hauling a lawyer's bones.
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5.6k
The Lawyers Know Too Much
Like some goofy lisp.   Like left over from Surrey to Essex. Lycan, Omish, with some Roudy Rawdy Piper. Like a WWE event, no ropes in the ring and a whole bunch of cheerios.   It sounded like chweer wee ohs.   I got England to laugh out loud. We were all laying on the floor hoping fuhat bassthard would gooh on a diet. Like Van Gogh and his buddy whats his... knuck knuck.  Painting pictures of Marshall Islanders for a vote or veto.  Paul Goin and Vincent Van Gogh sharing a lisp.   Sthounds like..... Ah gawd!   Shut up you sobbing limp noodle. Try writing something we all can laugh at. Humor me Socrates with Albert Einstein.   E equals MC squared.   One part energy, a mass constantly squared.   Cheerio old chaps.
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
Fire Retardant
Even if the season of lust blankets loneliness in a tight wrap smothering those fragile emotions in the winter months of a lifetime of cyclical wants and needs waiting for the summer to send its life giving mantras deep into the ****** soil of waiting, the hibiscus waits ready to grasp the first finger of sun drenching warmth to burst out into beauty above ground and spread its dense green leaves with crimson flower and trumpet shape into the minds eye of acceptance. Soon the valley changes hue as altogether the trees spring to life shedding their softness into every nook and corner, crabbing into crannies and leaping wings of delight into welcome air. The hibiscus will soon take ownership of the entire valley bringing to the forefront our own wanderlust. Author Notes Changeover between summer and sunshine. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
Hibiscus
Clambering and clawing Grasping hooks, crannies a crown of thorns flowering purple red blood bright fluorescent she wore her designer nails to the summer ball strapless and holding up her rounded dignity spoken in a plunging neckline She flowered was deflowered that twilight under a silver orb whispering ocean fronts dropped off at her starlight home sealed that memory with a bougainvillea kiss of immense sensuality and down the drive thinking how beautiful she was in making memories. years later I still remember the look of that velvet sky and the nails that scoured a language on my back. Author Notes Optional © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
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Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
bougainvillea
Listen! Can you hear? Behold! Can you see? Feel! Can you experience The change from a female To a fruitful African mother? Oh yes, she took the concoction This morning to prove her innocence, Yes, she had to go through this Ordeal to satisfy her aggressive head, But this passionate love was According the will of Tweaduampon, Hmm, the moon has appeared Nine times over the thirsty land Of Africa since morning, Can you behold Asaase Yaa And Isis watching with their Eyes of favor and fertility? For Osiris, the Beautiful Being, can even Testify the May-rain matching Endlessly over the wings of Timbuktu, Ah look! The noon is fast approaching With excess wailing and fear, For the Military Hospital Is burning and bleeding with The fire of eternal expectations, Indeed, with success comes greed, And the gods of blacks is not to **** Push daughter, push! Push the pain of this Tuesday joy Out of your vulnerable soul, For the Marshall bells are still Ringing to receive this divine offer, Hear the sweet voice of the dawn Energizing the anointed male baby Out of the nine-mouth old darkness, Today, a new day is born, Today, a revolutionary is born, Today, the gods have given birth, Today, Kabutu is born, Today, the history of Africa has given birth, In fact, magical protection and life Were behind this gods and his Divine Essence was glorified with power. © PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI Email: [email protected]
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
A NEW DAY IS BORN
musical walls of throbbing meaning makeshift footsteps escaping tendons lashing tongues notes of splendour ****** in my trombone-chills whats the wizardry in those piano fingers belting blues rainbow ecstasies oozing ****** gyrations three minute ******* splitting night into slivers for tomorrows takings lets dance jam together touch each others souls with promise. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
Jammin'
I've now coined the diagnosis "Portable Hoarder" -  Carrying my life in bags and duffles, pockets and sleeves. Accumulating more baggage than would fit in a **** terminal. But now, I am home. Me, and my ***** laundry. And I don't fit anymore. Crammed amidst my past. Falling out the door; Spilling across my floor. Me, myself, and Marshall. **So, TONIGHT I'm cleaning out my closet.**
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 7:20 AM UTC
I Was Raised by Marshall Mathers & JK Rowling
I like the idea of Slim Shady Eminem's alter ego I like the idea because I can relate I understand I believe everyone Has an alter ego A worse version of themselves That tears at them from the inside Even though some people Don't acknowledge it Lately I've been listening to Eminem quite a bit My favorite song Is My Darling Because half way through the song Eminem fights with his demon Granted, I've never been in most of the situations That he dealt with I've never had an abusive mother I've never had a drug problem I've never had an alcohol problem But I have dealt with inner demons I hear a dark and angry voice in my head Eminem fascinates me He tells his story Through his words He expresses his pain His anger His love His hate When you really think about it How is rap much different than poetry? I think it's similar Rap tells a story Rap expresses emotions Rap speaks the artist's truth That they couldn't say any other way Rap is a form of slam poetry In my opinion The difference is Rap has a beat Maybe that's why Eminem inspires me so much Maybe it's because I understand the pain Of hearing the inner demon Always screaming in your ear Telling you these lies Trying to force you into things Trying to trick you into your old ways I'm probably not the only one But I don't really care Because it doesn't really matter I will continue to be inspired About how brutally honest his words are About how he's not afraid To say what he thinks How he's not afraid to tell his story No matter how hard it may be Slim Shady fascinates me Eminem inspires me And Marshall Mathers understands me
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Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 10:04 AM UTC
Eminem
I like the idea of Slim Shady Eminem's alter ego I like the idea because I can relate I understand I believe everyone Has an alter ego A worse version of themselves That tears at them from the inside Even though some people Don't acknowledge it Lately I've been listening to Eminem quite a bit My favorite song Is My Darling Because half way through the song Eminem fights with his demon Granted, I've never been in most of the situations That he dealt with I've never had an abusive mother I've never had a drug problem I've never had an alcohol problem But I have dealt with inner demons I hear a dark and angry voice in my head Eminem fascinates me He tells his story Through his words He expresses his pain His anger His love His hate When you really think about it How is rap much different than poetry? I think it's similar Rap tells a story Rap expresses emotions Rap speaks the artist's truth That they couldn't say any other way Rap is a form of slam poetry In my opinion The difference is Rap has a beat Maybe that's why Eminem inspires me so much Maybe it's because I understand the pain Of hearing the inner demon Always screaming in your ear Telling you these lies Trying to force you into things Trying to trick you into your old ways I'm probably not the only one But I don't really care Because it doesn't really matter I will continue to be inspired About how brutally honest his words are About how he's not afraid To say what he thinks How he's not afraid to tell his story No matter how hard it may be Slim Shady fascinates me Eminem inspires me And Marshall Mathers understands me
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61
impeccable artwork splayed red anger diffused dangerously imminent explosion take down your temper ice it in silence spread change draw conclusions inherent haste find tranquility in people places abstract soliloquy ethereal furnace split skin burnt moments wanderer waking in a strange place stars foretell insipid futures we are destined for another ice age? © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 days ago - See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11770244-zodiac-misfired.....-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.DX0ajG0s.dpuf
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
zodiac misfired.....
Spark kissed tinder burst into flames As men gathered in tight knots Stitched up a street riot Wood warmed and glowed Militant revolution minds The embers hummed with ashes As city streets burned Tyres and tubes were rolled home brew guzzled Fuelled the fires further more streets burned Water cannons hissed As men aflame with anger Lit fireplaces up alleyways With burning brain torches Taking the political fireplaces To the palace of no return. As soon as the government Dissolved into a carpet bombing puddle The big bear licked its paws. Author Notes The Revolution continues after a lapse of two months. Most politics start around a fireplace fuelled by alcohol and hate. Once lit the fireplace chatter moves into the street and spread rapidly. The Bear anticipates a breakdown of law and order and amasses its troops along the border. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
Tinder
Head start on a frozen night we'll trickle slow down blighted                                   street ways and mix our crunching footsteps with our ever-rougher laughs. Grab a drink too tired for sleeping. Work weeks pile up, getting deep and I don't think apartment walls can contain us one more night. So save a drink for me, and meet me out on Longstaff Street I've got all night and an axe to grind You've got a case of cold friends                                  and a troubled mind so let's pace                     this neighborhood. Pull up my roots, we'll untangle yours from Knowles Street, right on Marshall                             walk and drink for hours 'til we sink                   that slant street moon Transplants grafted to this town we'll spread roots in these downer                                       regrets and spill our gravel laughter on the sidewalks with these beers. South, back home, a handful got it: rotten nights pave paths to coffins I don't know how many steps it'll take to cool our heels. So grab a drink for me and we'll go walking Longstaff Street We've got these drinks, we can disappear into a slant street night                       where no one'll hear how ****** up                        these days become. I still think back on Emerson Park that Summer night we fled from                    the cops through the dark when the Russell                      Street traffic hums...
0
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
Slant Street Transplants
Head start on a frozen night we'll trickle slow down blighted                                   street ways and mix our crunching footsteps with our ever-rougher laughs. Grab a drink too tired for sleeping. Work weeks pile up, getting deep and I don't think apartment walls can contain us one more night. So save a drink for me, and meet me out on Longstaff Street I've got all night and an axe to grind You've got a case of cold friends                                  and a troubled mind so let's pace                     this neighborhood. Pull up my roots, we'll untangle yours from Knowles Street, right on Marshall                             walk and drink for hours 'til we sink                   that slant street moon Transplants grafted to this town we'll spread roots in these downer                                       regrets and spill our gravel laughter on the sidewalks with these beers. South, back home, a handful got it: rotten nights pave paths to coffins I don't know how many steps it'll take to cool our heels. So grab a drink for me and we'll go walking Longstaff Street We've got these drinks, we can disappear into a slant street night                       where no one'll hear how ****** up                        these days become. I still think back on Emerson Park that Summer night we fled from                    the cops through the dark when the Russell                      Street traffic hums...
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44
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
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 2:32 PM UTC
latenight
The Creator looked at the elephant and said: I made you big so you could be gentle To the mouse he said: I made you small so you could walk tall But over millions of years you two could exchange places and one become the other. I know I shoved the lot of you in an Ark Because Noah was being a pesk asking for rain when his washing machine ran dry So I had to fill the oceans to stop that old man from complaining all the time. Besides I needed the bark from the trees of the Ark to make me a small tug boat to carry some DNA samples of my own, in case, the lion ate the cow, the tiger chewed on the cat and the fox tricked the rest with his cunning ways You see, my friends, there was no grass, or snakes or bird cages, or trees for the monkeys to swing on. I thought of many things before I gave the building plans to Noah and his sons. Only one was a builder the rest were bums, who never held a hammer or learned how to tie two bits of trees together, leave alone building an ark to hold the worlds whole creation.Thankfully there were no real estate agents pushing the price up or bankers charging interest. The mafia thought of charging an entrance fee for each pair, but before they could do that the rains came pelting down and the tickets got washed away in the storm. So you see the Ark was a joint venture between The Americans and Chinese and Indians because they were willing to multiply quicker than the rest once Mt Sinai rose up to meet the oak leviathan from underneath. And so my dear elephants and mouse and fox and snake and bird and lion and tiger. Noah and his wonderful Ark was a script written well ahead so that Russell Crowe could get a part playing Noah in a computer generated extravaganza where only the actors and actresses who could afford to pay a price to be in it - were involved. The rest of mankind be ****** Author Notes Quirky. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Quirky
The Creator looked at the elephant and said: I made you big so you could be gentle To the mouse he said: I made you small so you could walk tall But over millions of years you two could exchange places and one become the other. I know I shoved the lot of you in an Ark Because Noah was being a pesk asking for rain when his washing machine ran dry So I had to fill the oceans to stop that old man from complaining all the time. Besides I needed the bark from the trees of the Ark to make me a small tug boat to carry some DNA samples of my own, in case, the lion ate the cow, the tiger chewed on the cat and the fox tricked the rest with his cunning ways You see, my friends, there was no grass, or snakes or bird cages, or trees for the monkeys to swing on. I thought of many things before I gave the building plans to Noah and his sons. Only one was a builder the rest were bums, who never held a hammer or learned how to tie two bits of trees together, leave alone building an ark to hold the worlds whole creation.Thankfully there were no real estate agents pushing the price up or bankers charging interest. The mafia thought of charging an entrance fee for each pair, but before they could do that the rains came pelting down and the tickets got washed away in the storm. So you see the Ark was a joint venture between The Americans and Chinese and Indians because they were willing to multiply quicker than the rest once Mt Sinai rose up to meet the oak leviathan from underneath. And so my dear elephants and mouse and fox and snake and bird and lion and tiger. Noah and his wonderful Ark was a script written well ahead so that Russell Crowe could get a part playing Noah in a computer generated extravaganza where only the actors and actresses who could afford to pay a price to be in it - were involved. The rest of mankind be ****** Author Notes Quirky. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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41
I will stand in the shadow of the sun which burns a scar on the back of people who like to shift in the shadows of the night and blame everybody for giving them a homeland for their excuses. I will stand where the teargas melts my eyes and the batons write their scars on my coloured skin because I asked for bread. I will stand in the light and hum my soulful music that echoes off the walls of pop charts and make everybody dance because they do not understand my words. I will stand in the pools of streetlights and sell my body, my baby, my beauty- because nobody cared to ask me a human question on want. I will stand before God and question why he taught me the language of worship amd wisdom to know the difference between skin and colour and asking and read the book he has to offer that says the truth in so many pages. I will stand alone. I will stand alone. Author Notes ? © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
0
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
Ghetto
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
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
DreamCatcher...
In the darkness that dispels all hope we fumble with meaningless insight. What we said does not relate to what we want and yet we embrace boundaries to punish ourselves with unnecessary hells. Languishing in the thought that silence will answer these loud questions. We love because we are created to love unconditionally.We hate because we don't understand what vast oceans of meaning lie in love. Silence may answer the ascetics monastic and contemplatives but rarely an equation for relationships. When its grey it rains tears of knowing where we belong and to whom we belong in the worlds whole people. Love binds us all in this understanding fabric of contemplation. Yet in the darkness we find solitude and hope in the isolation of reason. The silence between the drumbeats announces the rhythm of the song. We walk in silence yet celebrate without it. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 19 days ago - See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11566249-Grey-Skies-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.8dgLQUr8.dpuf
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Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Grey Skies
The sound was switched off to my imagination but you sauntered in that cascade silk of light with sure steps,touching this, tousling your hair, touching that resplendent. Seductive in the setting. You knew I was watching the sun dance through the shadows causing your smile and mischief to glow brighter. It was when you leaned over the balcony my pulse raced with fear and my heart stopped racing anymore. Its only when you switched the sound back on did I realise your heart was also beating between 'the agony and the ecstasy' of the distance between us. I take a step forward. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 3 days ago
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Selfie
the church bells peeled a rhythmic ringing tinnitus sending us listeners racing back into a guilty crime like daze. the mass begins in twenty painful moments better rush in the rustle of sunday wear bible bolstered underarm front pew glances at the priest who had a back view glare at late comers. Mama said the sins of your fathers will visit if you miss a mass canned hellfire will get you and st peter will tick mark your presence after communion. I listened when I stopped God became god and the church bells peeled the same way only the new pizzas came with canned chilli peppers! © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
Church and Chilli Peppers
Neon Stella Artois lights and sly hellos It commenced as we were flew spinning Ticket stubs and ink -stains Oh, as our love flirted we both were seeking Brooklyn Subway stops and ***** clothes We perched by the equator but only when beginning Backwards flasks and ******* Then winter solstice was challenged by spring’s springing Strands of soft pearls and wishing wells We shivered the anxious touch of a faux July summer’s evening Empty bar stools and firelight It was still bitterly February but with the mockery of songbirds floating Two Thirty Seven A.M. and sea shells How can the world deceive us in this fashion: fools, we accept ever-knowing Buttered bread and hindsight Dawn will crash with frostbite and these daisies will pay the price of their beauty’s sinning Wine before noon and payphone bills Wind will eviscerate this moment for once you have touched the sun the ice is more than suffocating Dry heaving and ribbons We were only waiting then at the heart of a train station for the stretches of shadows to lengthen First drags of cigarettes and blue diet pills The glitter within the dew drops stolen from our tired eyes when our first summer was stolen Cheap motels and kitchens We could barely exchange syllables, our melodies quarreling, our blood had thinned Calendar pages and black lace ******* The euthanasia of the spring would have hung us too if we had breathed it in The Last calls and lollipops One can repose more gently in the absence of color than in the theft of sin Bitten manicured hands and autumn leaves We used to sleep in a room with wonders, windows, and blankets within Midnight whispers and rooftops It was the only place that could soften the swords in all this ruin ****** wrappers and painting supplies Today is cruel, it cannot be summer if the world doesn’t spin Happy hour cocktails and goodbyes
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
Marshall Evans
Neon Stella Artois lights and sly hellos It commenced as we were flew spinning Ticket stubs and ink -stains Oh, as our love flirted we both were seeking Brooklyn Subway stops and ***** clothes We perched by the equator but only when beginning Backwards flasks and ******* Then winter solstice was challenged by spring’s springing Strands of soft pearls and wishing wells We shivered the anxious touch of a faux July summer’s evening Empty bar stools and firelight It was still bitterly February but with the mockery of songbirds floating Two Thirty Seven A.M. and sea shells How can the world deceive us in this fashion: fools, we accept ever-knowing Buttered bread and hindsight Dawn will crash with frostbite and these daisies will pay the price of their beauty’s sinning Wine before noon and payphone bills Wind will eviscerate this moment for once you have touched the sun the ice is more than suffocating Dry heaving and ribbons We were only waiting then at the heart of a train station for the stretches of shadows to lengthen First drags of cigarettes and blue diet pills The glitter within the dew drops stolen from our tired eyes when our first summer was stolen Cheap motels and kitchens We could barely exchange syllables, our melodies quarreling, our blood had thinned Calendar pages and black lace ******* The euthanasia of the spring would have hung us too if we had breathed it in The Last calls and lollipops One can repose more gently in the absence of color than in the theft of sin Bitten manicured hands and autumn leaves We used to sleep in a room with wonders, windows, and blankets within Midnight whispers and rooftops It was the only place that could soften the swords in all this ruin ****** wrappers and painting supplies Today is cruel, it cannot be summer if the world doesn’t spin Happy hour cocktails and goodbyes
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