Dreams are your hopes
Nightmares are your fears
But both combined can be a tricky situation
You could have a great night sleep
But have one nightmare
That can ruin the entire night
That one nightmare that wakes you up
Cold sweat dripping off your forehead
Your breath is shallow
The nightmare that could make you wake up in tears
You just end up sitting up late
Calming your nerves
You question what the nightmare was about
But you don’t want to know what it means
It’s 4 AM
No one is awake
But YOU
Instead you go back to bed
And hope
Hope you don’t have that nightmare again

well, it's still better than what populists ascribed to with omni-; which basically led two major "monotheisms" (Christianity and Islam) into pantheism: e.g. - touch a rock, mm, that's god... touch a banana, mm, that's god; stick a thumb up your ***, mm... now that's truly god.

what i was aiming to suggest was the concept
of *deo sapiens,
as an antidote to the overrated **** sapiens
categorisation, which can hardly be the limit
of our collective definition of man set apart
from nature, given his persistent submission
to the four elements of nature, which limit
man's assurance as above helpless animals he
decided to pet or industrialise in farming -
and apart from the elements the existence of
parasites and diseases (negations of ease) -
i only wanted to introduce the concept deo sapiens
to say F U to the Greek demoralising theological
poets, and enjoin the whole concept with
what was already inscribed prior: made in his image,
although image doesn't really go beyond
the demigod Narcissus in what's to be understood:
perhaps we are of the same mould in
the shallow realm of equal representation,
repraesentatio expilo (representative plagiarism),
but with the overruling body of nuance
hanging over us like a sack of **** or the sword
of Damocles, we can hardly continue as these unshaken
prefects of the firm categorisation of **** sapiens,
which is still rather an infant of conceptualisation,
we have no claim to **** sapiens, i cannot think
why man claimed such a firm atheistic belief with
his continual irrationality, perhaps certain discoveries
in science allowed him crossing the Nile of ideas,
thus in the same way as i disregard the categorisation
of **** sapiens i invite the concept of deo sapiens,
a rational god: it's just a massive grave and subsequent
plagiarism with pyramid schemes of dupes!
that thing ain't gonna fly! away from greek poets who
purposively created immoral gods to satiate their
human fancy: indeed an unfair world, but a world
where man can fully express his freedom, and what
freedom he chooses according to his will...
only a deo sapiens would allow such freedoms
(with that one ****** exception that's worth a thousand
stigmas in the shadow of the crux that gave us
so much narcissistic culture via iconography and dyslexia);
or in other words, yes, indeed only a **** insapiens
would dare craft the idea of a deo sapiens
(although in act of good faith / doubt), rather than
a **** sapiens crafting the idea of deo insapiens
(although in act of bad faith / denial) -
and yes, the paradoxical twins, who are actually
Siamese... it's now up to your choice of painting with
will what freedom you wish to see revealed on
the canvas... don't mind me, my hands are in the air,
i surrender... i'm not about to imitate an Islamic prayer
format of kneeling and mumbling something under
my breath five times a day; i'll do it in one smooth
guillotine stroke: hands in the air.

I

Honor from that of a fowl heart
Crimson and gold-silver bells shrill
Fools delight in drunken birth
Moonlit jasmine and sapphire glow
billowing pillars of smoke from towns below
Merry and gay is the festival-parade
from farther land come, beautiful delicate maids
Hustling steps to the garden square
gray stone now wet from decline of care

Marionettes sway with colorful strings of joy
Shakespearean theater a play of fools
making their toasts to crystal jewels
Chapels painted star of David so bright
yet they stray banished from glorious light
Catacombs shake, a hungry soul stirs
come now the widows of savage earth

Reflect, yes ponder upon shallow grave
a house with no sun, yet fierce is the shade
Piercing, Scorching the turn of the blade
laughter now fades on fools darkest day

                                II

For the singer of song, sings unlike that of the bird
Howling sheds tears, unpleasant-Forever heard
Outlasting that of the harp which David played
Increasing with time like a judgmental plague
If the halo shines bright, on but a few who wed
the blues played by all men who fear life then dead
Silver string and black is the heart
Heaven and creation so far-Far apart
take note of the artist-metronome of pain
Keeping the rhythm with Fools darkest day.

I am empty as the page that sits befor the flustrated poet.
Pain trapped in heart without words to put to pen.
Shaking cold knowing full well my time has passed as swiftly
as train through a midnight so very clear.

The road behind me I can longer recall.
Faces and places shallow as a drying river bed.
Life has taught me to put up wall.

Stolen moments from a welcome barstool.
One of many jesters in this fools
kingdom I do rule.

The clock of my life grows closer
to closing time.

When walk out that door it's left to others to recall.
reflect in the thoose smokey dark corners.
How many of you ever did know me at all.

Thinking of times never had.
Missing friendships that never were.
To fail means at least you did try.
The road never ends so why must I?

I bombard people with my deep emotions
It turns them off
Well excuse me
I didn't know you were the boss

You're too shallow for me anyway
Don't appreciate me?
I guess love is not your forte

The Figure gained speed.
The Beaten Path continued to shallow him.
The Stranger did not know which would **** him first.
He relaxed, and accepted his fate.
Mud encompassed his head, the Figure was inches away.

Life gave way from his body.
His head went limp, he fainted.
The Figure stopped the mud, and sighed.
"Humans."
The Stranger awoke, as the sun shined on him from the east.
This Figure did not have the predominate human features;
No ears,
No mouth,
No nose,
No hair, and
No pupils.
But eyes stared blankly at him.

Death, was amused that he didn't faint.
Then the laughter came when, the Stranger figured out who he was.
The laughter filled his head, echoing through his body.
"Yes, Death is thee name and fame."

I let you see me.
Not just my hair and clothes but all of me.
You saw into me and underneath my facade.
My insecurities and scars.
You told me I was perfect.
You're a liar.

How could you take that intimacy and turn it into an instrument of torture?
Did you wake up mean and cruel or maybe I just ignored the signs?
That you were shallow.
And you only cared what your friends thought.
You're a liar.

You wove beautiful fantasies of you and I eloping.
You told me I was in line with your destiny,
You were open and persuasive,
I fell for every bit of it.
I forgot.
That you're a liar.

I thought you had more to offer,
A life of happiness together.
But you're all wrong for me,
Someone else's model trying to make me into something less than I am.
I should never have tried.
Cause you're a liar.

It is a curse, to feel so ******.
When love’s salvation is a fail planned;
When even at best, all is not enough,
there is no way to still be though.
When your strength attacks your weak-
ness and fear the hurt so refuse to speak,
wrap it in riddles and locks and questions,
bundle the worry in subtle depressions,
Carry it lightly, as though it a babe,
break not the fragile, make it be save.
And pray really hard it repairs itself,
so whole and displayed on a shelf.

A shattered pride, I do not mind,
I just now hope that I do find,
the courage to pick up the shattered pieces,
by emotional maladies, sentimental diseases.
How do I begin to try and heal,
after being struck at Achilles’ heel?
It’s what I can’t admit, feeling so pierced,
by one I had hoped to have me blissed.
A careful thing, to hide the hurt,
hide bleeding scars beneath a skirt.
all so quickly, down it falls.
my heart feels vacant, hollow halls.

but shallow, but true,
holding unreasoned rue.
emotional sighs, and the best of my lies.
to disguise and hide my bitterly cries.
a pathetic thing, to fear and self hate
the failure to entirely captivate.
The desire to be the center of the world,
too much for a pretty but stupid girl.
Perhaps it’s what makes me not at all enough.
possessiveness over the worsest of stuff.
but as I tell anyone, I don’t know if I care.
because trying is all that I could even dare.

I want to feel your depth, but my feet walk shallow in your waters.
I want to walk your earth, but these stones beneath get much hotter.
I want to drift your winds, take me far I don't want to remember this place.
I want to take your pain, I see it I know you see through this soul-less face.

      My mind is now your territory and you won't let me in.
So I sit and contemplate the reasons you did me in.
I'm twisted as I'll ever be behind this soul-less face.
Why don't we just close the distance and we'll begin this race.

       I never knew, that you could get this close to me.
I can't deny, the life that you make me see.
I should've known, the sun would never shine for me.
You take the light, from my soul-less face.

     At first you said you'd never leave me till the very end.
Well open up your eyes and see that you were wrong again.
These autumn leaves fall like my need to see your soul-less face.
I know I'm lying to myself but this is all a waste.
              
soul-less face, soul-less face

as silence escapes
your quivering, timid lips,
my valves desist (they are rebellious).

but like the dark birds
that depart to seek refuge,
(there is none) they return to proper order.

and again, i am
at peace with myself-
with the world and with your empty reflection.

it is my red chest
(not my heart) that pains me so.
and the hired help refuses to answer my calls.

postmortem, shallow;
used to define what is left
of the shell that sits, lonely, on my dresser.

i find no answer
for the questions you don’t ask.
yet your eyes cast down, as if i disappoint.

(let’s pray that this passes.)

shady creature, you steal my soul
bottle the light and seal the hole
cloud my motive
blur my voice
static in a rush of noise
laying in the dark
shallow breath, my chest sinks through
my love is grey, yours so brand new

With all the pain, subdued
under the sixty's of whisky,
For years, being suffered
waiting for you, weeping.
Yet you were there, like
The Aurora, The glamorous
lights of the north, Yet
You refused to be The Sun.
My heart was lit by the
Northern lights, shallow,
yet bright, As it was to me
You. My eyes would never
tire of watching you, till
you rose as The Sun, Now
my eyes, my hands, my heart,
my happiness, my pain,
belongs to only you, But
as the pain also is yours,
It hurts to know someone else
felt it, might be your friend,
or mine, My everything is,
only your's, whats left of me,
What I am, I am your's,
Someday, please be only mine.

Charms  present itself as attributes
in cloak and dagger, blood still dripping
with the last **** envious hate, insidious
beasts, burdened by the bronze culture
impervious to the shallow golden calf
shrouded in the sinister guise
of compassion.

Why do the radicals look
up to the sky  praise god for approval
on own inequities
bolstered by the book of prophets
who did not see these acts
as sanctity or sacred.

The contradictions balance
between heaven and hell
even as the world turns to watch
the anguish of beliefs in agony.

Go now seek the desert of doom.
to announce meaningless mantras
for the wisdom of attention.
Burn in the terrible dawn of discovery.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

In a shallow night, the emptiness suffocate me.
My heart crumble from you,
and only you knows how to solve the puzzle.
I dream the day that, your kiss makes me remind of the 70s and 80s
Were love on earth was pure in union, and people did not care about
nothing...but just love.
Make me feel alive again,
Make me feel in love again,
Only the key of my happiness is in your hands, to reveal the true me.

I could think of a million and one ways to compliment you,

And every single one of them would be true.

I’ll start with your beautiful eyes,

For they are comparable to sunrise.

You have absolutely beautiful hair,

So beautiful, in fact, that the other girls don’t think it’s fair.

And your smile is so beautiful, I forget to take a breath,

Really, if it weren’t for you, I’d probably be lost in death.

I know that you say that you do not deserve me

As a friend, but really I am the one who is not worthy.

You say that you are shallow, but I disagree,

For you continue to be an incredible friend to me.

You say you are mean, well I am, too.

Some of the things I have done were exponentially cruel.

No matter what you do to me or what you say,

I will continue to love you everyday.

And I know you say that the world doesn’t care,

I guess I agree, that sounds fair.

But our Lord, Jesus Christ, does,

And that is more encouraging than anything else ever was.

In the beginning people called you a brick. But you weren’t perturbed

You stripped off weight, revealed svelte contours. Emerged fit.

You added bling. Bells and whistles unimaginable

Not shallow though. Shrewd and calculated

You made yourself valuable. Desirable

Everyone wanted a piece of you. I wanted you.

I got you.

In turn you gifted me everything I wished for. Everything I’d need

You brought me knowledge, broadened my horizons. Exposed me to the world

Sometimes enlightening, sometimes shocking

There was nothing you wouldn’t reveal

You organised my life, gave me direction. Connected me

Provided for my base needs. Oh the sweet ***** ***

But you were aloof

For all that you offered, you were indifferent to the price

For the good there was bad. For freedom, I gave you control

The world cost me community. Truths cost innocence

Exposing, I was vulnerable. Revelations rent me disturbed

As my go-between none could see me but through you

You took my connections and reset them. Manipulated my self-esteem

Self-esteem I relied upon

With you as my medium, misunderstandings became commonplace

Relationships once solid showed cracks

With disconnect you scrutinised these divides, and made them gulfs

Analyses became autopsies, on associations seemingly dead

So be it. I’ve seen enough. I’m too far down this path

I wouldn’t know how to change it. How would I even attempt to?

But I knew once

Maybe the problem is you. Your heavy on me once more, like that brick

I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, but there are some things you can’t

I must wrest back from you my connections with community

The bond with those important to me

You can have the world. It’s fame, flattery, insults and disgrace

I just want you to make a call

I gotta phone a friend

There is a bottle under my bed
Clear with three mutilated holes and no cap
Along with three ***** of crumpled foil
A pile of downy laundry at my feet—
The race of black lace at the bottom
Of a boat I’d rather not step into so my mother won’t relay to me her dreams
Of my possible alternative sexuality she’s subconsciously sensing and actually begin to question why I’m so awkward around my—
I keep hidden under exactly two blankets
So my imagination won’t tickle my toes and in turn, my senses.
This isn't my comforter
But it does comfort more than the preceding, this
Brown quilt spotted with creamy, leafy stars
Is only familiar to the depths of the hall closet
—That dings a precise pitch that I’ll measure tomorrow when opened—
So these walls will emit less lime and more depth to the time as to shallow out the savage speed of the
Hands no longer ticking above my head.

At the crack of dawn, in an open jeep
We sit, as chirpy as the birds
Our eyes wide open, ears perked
Waiting for a call to be heard

We begin our journey, full of hope
The thrill of adventure in the air,
Binoculars at the ready
To meet a tiger's deadly glare

We canter through the dense forest
Through the shallow river and the whispering trees
Past the gentle deer and the mighty elephant
And a sense of danger in the breeze

We wander along the gravel path  
Beneath langoors swinging from the branches,  
And from the grass, the jackal watches,
Patiently resting on its haunches

We drive through twists and turns and ups and downs
The elusive beast refused to be found...
This time our efforts were for nought,
But we'll see him next time around!

There ain’t nothing too bad
Too sad about it
I couldn’t figure you clearing my head
And I used to think I sounded slow
But now I think I sound shallow
Ya hear?
You here?
I keep hitting the brakes but the car isn’t slowing and the light is red, and I keep hitting the ******* brakes and I keep. hitting. the. *******. brakes. and I think “****! ****, sell it when I’m dead.”
And the police come
And you’ve been drinking
And the bag never looked better on me

It's been a while since I've seen the sun
The stars
The sky
That edge to edge expanse that goes on forever
It seems we've been under a heavy cloud
of doubt, fear and anger.
With the doom and gloom hanging so low overhead
And the tragic condition of we here below
It's hard to imagine that there's a ray of hope to be found.
Such loss and rage reflecting the dark and shallow canvas above us,
and where do you turn to add color to this gray existence?

It's been a while since I've seen the sun, but today, it warmed me.  It illuminated the sky, broke through the clouds, and for a moment, embraced us down here in the midst of all our doom and gloom.  And tonight, if the clouds stay away, I will look up at the stars, so many millions and millions of miles away, and be encouraged in the fact that no matter what happens to me down here, it is all incredibly small compared to the grand design of the Universe.

A shadow rises in the morning,
A sudden darkness through the trees.
The sun is shining through the doorway,
The spirits whisper on the breeze.

I found myself a lonely island,
A place, I felt,  I'd find some peace,
I missed the cliff as I was driving,
Missed the warm rush of the sea.

Another night on my horizon,
I stole a candle for some light,
I'd never thought much of surviving,
But I feel sure it'll be alright.

The lizard greets me in the morning,
The scaly messengers of kings.
And life is anything but boring,
when all that's left is empty streets.

The bells are calling them to mourning,
The ones who march in silent sleep.
A field of poppies beckons for me;
A shallow grave but three feet deep.

Clung to this sentiment like a leech in the night.
Thought I had a tegument, a mystical flight.
Turns out I was limpin', a mismatch of rhymes.
Staring in a cracked mirror, ecstatic precious time.
Blindsided by this impact, a lyrical bomb.
Shattered my perception, exposed where I'm all wrong.
Life's a dehydrated trip, specifics all astray.
Regrets on repeat, self respect in the trash.
Needed a lyrical slap, to see the abyss I couldn't admit.
Gotta take a breather, rewrite this whole skit.
Shallow anxieties clouding my vision, blurring the end.
Clearing out the mud, let these lines transcend.
Let's meet what debris is shallow,
Hard to see the shadows in Murky Waters

Arise from autumn meadow
The days last thought
Of you who chose a path
Not measured or guided but sign less
And yet, you walk with purpose
Resting in unfamiliar territories
Aware of the incongruities of your route
And still, you had the vision
Earlier years were fraught with ambiguities
And muddy trails made for slippery ramblings
And then, you wrote a poem
Your heart found its medium; and soul, its pen
You write with depth in a shallow sea
How magnificent life is, when our path is clear
And the autumn meadow allows for one more thought

I am human.
You cannot control me.
This cannot control me.
I am more than just a label.
Labels do not run my life.
When you think of me,
Why must you be so shallow?
Am I not human?
The only thing that comes to mind…
Gay.
I am gay,
But that is not all I am.
When you describe a straight person,
What do you use?
Beautiful?
Smart?
Funny?
You never describe them with straight,
Then why do you describe me with gay?
Am I not beautiful?
Am I not smart?
Am I not funny?
Can I not be those things too?
Or am I just gay?
Is that all I am to you?
Gay?
A label?
A three lettered word?
Because I’m not.
I am a girl.
And,
I am human,
Just like you.

Lets not lie then;
you’re out there somewhere having a
fine & dandy time, a fish in shallow waters,
meanwhile I’m a shoe-in
for the biggest *******
this side of town and god and country.
And where the **** are you?
What the **** is your excuse?

I’m homeless without you and
I’m a degenerate when I’m with you,
and I’m ****** enough in this
sleepless state to see it’s not fair.
I can’t ******* swim out here…
You can fuss about me not being
next to you some nights, but
I don’t give a **** about
the *** we’re not having,
the touch you’re demanding,
so just shut down the charade.


And you don’t want to know
what’s * *wrong ** with me.


"I don’t give a ****.", yeah,
tattoo it on my lips and kiss them
till they bleed. Don’t care.
Maaaaaybe I’m too tired to think clearly,
but ******* right now I see so much
and it’s so petty and privileged and ******
and when you think you see the lines,
you can’t even see the light of day.
I’d know because it’s here right now.
I’d know because I lost the words to say,
but the lyric would be so ******* gritty.

Lalalala, lalalala, lalalala;

The weight is so **** heavy.

Lalalala, lalalala, lalala;

The escape is too passe.

Lalalalalalalala, and where
the **** are you?

Everyone else is drunk and I’m
a hallucinogenic and a landmine.

Maybe I'm too deep
Maybe you're too shallow
Maybe I'm too advanced
And all my wisdom you can't swallow

Maybe I'm too crazy
Maybe you're just dense
And you never questioned the what if's or what-nots

Maybe I seem insane
Because I know too much
Maybe you never asked the questions to get the answers you never got

When I died
No one cried
A few sensitive souls surely tried
But never showed their shallow fallow feelings from
the visceral side

The Rent-A-Rev Chuck did his job
Even though he had no idea who I was
He delivered the obit with adequate wit
Which was worth half a bucket of warm spit
The printed program carried only one of my semi suspect
social grass roots cause

I was not a bad man
Never a sad man
Super lucky by comparison said
A smart *** brain in a medium sized head

Generous though
With a slightly bent bellowing sick humorous flow
Just like butter meeting a warm knife
Unconditional Love presented itself and was enjoyed
three or four times in my life
Yet no one was left to give a good *******
Not that it mattered for just another man

All known relations had gone before
Now the end of a short line in time
Had breathed the last reasonably fast
And took the long slow brightly lit walk toward
North Shore

When I died
No one cried

Every now and then, my world spins around
Giving rise to a myriad of turnarounds
At the junction of two roads
I can't help but hesitate
Where am I to go?
In this world of nothingness
Vacuum, emptiness
I feel a part of me is so shallow
I am so hollow
Struggling to find a future ahead of me
Confused by the indecisiveness haunting me
Back there, I used to be so brave
Now here, I am but a coward
My inner self is shivering with dejection
For there's no answer to this fight
Endless as it seems, nobody knows
While I want to reach the stars
Dreaming of the wonders of a utopian life
I'm ****** into a zone of utter disgrace
Greed is not a virtue
To counter it, I have to be strong
No matter how long it takes
I know I can and I will...


-10/06/09

I don't claim to be the most beautiful for simply vanities sake
From my first breath of life I learned
That in this world my beauty is my worth
If I am not desirable, then I am nothing
I am beautiful because I have to be
Since that first breath of life
I was told that I was beauty, through and through
If I am not beautiful, then what am I?
What purpose would I serve?
If I am not the most beautiful, then have I lost my worth?
The diamonds on my skin
The blinding, dazzling layer of my shallow beauty
Hide the precious gemstones that cover my heart and run through my veins
For I am beauty, through and through

the Northern girl who
is not afraid to wade into the shallow
end of the pond with turtles
fishes ***** and ****

who is she this red haired
laureate who writes unafraid
of spiderwebs adorning her head.

Who is she , tell me true,
is she the lichens of my memory
the moss of my fallen side?

Who may she write of,
when the wolves bay at night
and her silvery visions
overcome me.

Seeing things out of focus
Distorted views
Shadows on shadows
On walls that don't exist
Outside
The confines of the mind.
Tunnel vision
Through open fields
Blind to the wonders
That surround ones self
Happiness is
You're only lost
If others pave your road for you
Sounds of life
The echoes of death
Collections of thoughts
Meanings morphing
Changing
Losing and growing
Through individuals
Molding and defining
Based on the past
Events those of which
Are not shared
Where does the shallow end
How far do we go
Before something
Becomes more than skin deep
Walking backwards
Eyes closed
Turning around
Only to see
If the destination
Has been reached
Not knowing
What
The destination is
Scenic routes
No entry point
Mental landscapes
Lost in a shroud
Of doubt
Scent of rain with clear
skies
Life
Incomplete works of art
Eyes closed
Mind open for business
Musings
A collection of lost puzzle pieces
Dillusional
Abstract
Shapeless
Incoherent prose
The glass is either half empty
Or half full
Depending on the contents
Striving for more
Is the nature of everything.
Stagnant pools of empty thoughts
Time wasted
Following refractions of light
The abscence of light
Seeing only what others want
The future
Holds
What I chose to hand it