I try to like maths
Maths unliked me

I try to befriend maths
Maths unfriend me

Maths create an invisible problem
And expect you to find a solution

I wonder why humans create a problem and look for a solution

In time maths came in to show problems are part of life

This is something I learned from mathematics
There is always something to learn

a lovely a song deserved the heart
but then i lost my rest
then i had put my guard
cuz it sounds like my past
so i clicked unlike .

through the eyes of a child, everthing is lovely
the neighbor is kind, it rains fruit punch and candy is the balanced diet
running around all day laughing,playing
imagine being a superhero
with the mask and a cape
the clouds are actually cotton candy and mud-pies are chocolate cakes
all animals are nice and noone is unliked
so how about  we play around with dolphins
and kiss a tiger while stargazing
in the eyes of a child, the world seems amazing

embarrassed
uncomfortable
solitude
withdrawn
apart
empty
secluded­
excluded
reclusive
Isolated
deserted
different
strange
peculiar
­unliked
alone

I dont know why I try so hard
For someone who wont even look my way.
I even think a hundred times
For perfect words I try to say

I tried once more without a doubt,
With all the courage I gathered inside,
Guess my efforts are wasted,
For I don't even cross your mind.

Today I choose to be myself,
I realised that I don't need you now,
To be happy and contented,
I know for sure, I'll show me how.

The slow stream meanders through the densest undergrowth
finding its way through folly and brush and barriers
until at last it reaches a sea of understanding
where the waves crash and burn
tumble and roll in ecstatic freedom.

So do our lives, liberated from tense *******
of social chains placed upon us
by tradition. We were born free
others wanted us locked in rituals
and rants prescribed
that  satisfied their swollen egos
and their own insecurities in the chain
of progress.

Breaking out is not easy
but one must bulldoze through the miasma
to reach the thin light beckoning you
to leave your baggage behind
on an overcrowded platform
where the trains have just whistled past.

A long time ago, my mind was ablaze
in the jungle of dissent and I roamed the world
seeking the liked and unliked ideologies
to a better way to leave a mark of this fabric
of patterned prose and poetry.

Am I yet free? I don't know.
Tempt me with the taste of freedom.

Author Notes

Freedom has many shades.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

What should a poem be?
Should it be about love?
Should it be about hate?
Should it be about how your love found a lover and you learned to hate him or her?
Should it be a story based on facts?
Should it be fictional all made up?
Read a poem today bout the unheard offs.
Those that are unliked as a three leaf clover.
The ones with no luck
trapped in the web of hello poetry
Were they get no love, no likes, no repost... Is alright.
That's me, a noble man a no..body.
And I thank you
But never again right for me
I say it out of love not hate... Truly
Your words hit big like the empire state but,
What should a poem be?
Love, hate,
Factual, fictional,
Etc, etc,
All the above
Though it should never be about fame, or will I trend today.
Is how you you control your emotions
Whether you put yourself down
Or you gloat
This is spoken words
Best heard acapella
I use to wear a sky mask
And dark shades
My stage name anonymous
Till my first love kissed me for the first time one night like
Jane did to spider man

Funny
but not in a polite way
Witty
Daring
Razor-sharp
Basking in a round of warm-beer-belly laughs

Pillow soft
No-man's land
Lay down your weapons
on my shoulder.

Confident
Never bossy.
An everyday diplomat navigating courtesies
A heard point.

Attractive
******
On
   my
     own
       terms.
By
   my
     own
         rules.

Liked
or unliked
The choice is theirs
I have little time for it.

To be all this at once
or not at all
on my count

Take aim

Your griefs
Concerns
List of parts unliked
And states abhorred

All conditions

And I have chosen
To love you unconditionally

you pour your soul into a bottle, siphon away your last redeeming qualities
and think, perhaps if i write a poem, i can save myself
perhaps if you wrote a poem, you would condemn somebody else.

you squint into the vial, notice the curlicues of ash
and that's weird, because you haven't burned anything recently
nothing except yourself

i thought about donning that visage, of veiling myself in black
i thought about a lot of things
of bruises on perfectly smooth arms
of the silver sheen of a sharp edge
of trying out ceramics and seeing if they're all that great

i remembered what you're supposed to do
or what everyone says you're supposed to do.
lay out your belongings in an orderly fashion
leave a note
what would i say? no one would take the time to read it
no one ever has

maybe this is the note
the note they'll never find
the note even i don't understand

all i wanted to do was talk to you
just talk
just to hear your voice, just to exchange a few words
and i don't know how this happened
i'm lost
and they ******* **** at making maps

and i am jimmi simpson all over again, dying not one not two not even three times
the younger generation of being possessed, of putting your points
in unexpected places
of being utterly unliked and useless

what's wrong with me?
things i don't even feel but i always lead it the same way
i always **** it up
i always do, every time, without fail
i'm no good to anybody, and least of all myself
and the only reason i'm still alive is because i keep thinking
that maybe just ******* maybe someone cares
because i keep thinking but what if
well **** the what ifs

no, the only ******* reason i'm still here is because i'm too much of a ******* coward to **** myself.

i woke up beneath the clouds
been a long time since i looked at them
i observe how they move
how each cloud has its unparalleled look
how each cloud has its individual history
grey and white clouds

the white clouds symbolize her presence
white clouds are like her;
gentle, without any defects
she was that kind of story
that kind of book in which
you would die to be in

the grey clouds symbolize my longing
grey clouds are like me;
tempestuous, abrupt, unliked
i was that kind of story
that kind of book in which
none would be fond of to be in

we were in that kind of story
that kind of book in which
everyone would die to be in
i felt love at the first sight
the time passed so did clouds
the ones i've been looking at

i still go back to the times when we were together
but i need to stop thinking about it now
i'm afraid that our love will get
more profound when we are departed
that's the hardest part of being alone
feeling your ghost in my empty room

i glance at the sky once again
the clouds i've been observing
have gone away from my vision now
and she said;
"i believe that there is love in holding and in letting go"
"and it's time to let go"
but i will never stop gazing at the sky

The lies of nature
The nature of the beings
The unruly flow
The flow of the beings
The easily given words
The words of the beings
The meanings behind intentions
The intentions of the beings
The beings with beings
The real value and contradictions
The day of realization
The realizations of the beings
The like and unliked fits
The fittings of the beings
The only important of all
The trust of beings
The only trust that ever needed
The beings’ own trust in his being

I’ve yearned for your Wi-Fi touch,
But the signal’s out of range.

Time doesn’t crawl; it sprints by—
Another season, another lie.
Are you still online?

I need your likes,
I need your swipe.
Algorithm, bring your love to me.

Lonely pixels flow,
Through the cloud, through the cloud,
To the infinite void of the cloud, yeah.

Lonely profiles sigh,
“Notice me, notice me,”
I’m DMing you, notice me.

Oh, my love, my darling,
I’ve craved, craved your virtual touch,
But the data cap’s so high.

Time isn’t slow—it’s gone.
And memories can do so much,
Were you ever mine?

I need your views,
I need your shares.
God bless the bots who care.

The whispers in the grass were not meant for your ears, they will find another home
You're whispers in the dark know me and they call me by name
The words woven in the night are worth much
Only to those who have heard them before
Their ears long for promises that come as dutifully as one calls up a storm
Those who are lain in the earth
Their bones remember, these charms have clung to their bones
They have not died with the clovers in the spring
They were meant for yet another season
Patience is a flower, and we will see her bloom, learn her petals, love her stem, watch the sun kiss her, the rain bathe her and the wind caress her as gentle as she can
Her neighbors know her, for the earth treats all in kind
Just as the sun kisses all in turn
The sun even knows the snow, while the words they share are short undoubted they are sweet enough to catch a sparkle in her light
Unliked the sonnets she sings to the equator
Oh the pride she has for these melodies
There is no lack of favor for the summer she brings
I am not as old as you once found me
Not the same as you once new me
Close to as foolish as one could believe
My moons have practical their dances beyond the rise
Their ways are for another nights mysteries

My best friend is perfect.
She cuts avocados and Mother Nature applauds
Meals are her healing message
She is a stork
who confits and door drops
Rebirth
To the grief stricken
Even when you think you will never eat again
You will.
She is there.
Ladle her famous soup and homemade crust into mouth
Watch as your weep is resurrected into brothy strength
And loafy self compassion
Her hair is a layer cake of curls
A ringlet goddess
the moment she lifts cheek off of pillow
She will not bend like her follicle
An ancient rooted tree
The fortunate are invited to intertwine in soil
A Resilient nutrient shared
Watch us grow
Her hugs are
Insulin
Acceptance
Ink pen
Lemon
An introduction is all it will take—
You are special
Remembered,
every detail studied and scribed to memory
Even the undeserving
Her biggest fear is being unliked
She will breathe her last breath without that ever happening
She notices when I pick my fingers and the second my stomach sinks to my feet
With one brown eyed gaze
I am back in the room
I like to believe I comfort her with all the ways I am not her perfect
All the ways I storm through life
She and I sit on thunder and guzzle rain
She is my warm towel and umbrella and favorite childhood memory
Her family is mine
My family is hers
and when the light never feels like it is going to enter
I remind myself of that
How we are a coming of age film
That never ends
Cinematography of black and white Polaroids
Of us
Parachuting off of the risky cliffs of our twenties,
Holding hands the whole time
And giggling
While everyone else around us is holding their breath
On the nights I turn into Ernest Hemingway
I remind myself that I have my Hadley,
My miss
Who I should never miss
Because she is always within me

finite flourishes with a few clicks
or infinite insight for 9.99;
words drafted hastily
into the information race,
sprinting to expiration
unliked,
barely seen
like hibernating polar bears
nearing extinction;

or pearls carefully crafted
as the moon rages
and dizzy blows
an inspired riff
of sublime similes into your muse.

you should swim someday
in the imaginarium
of quantum leaps
writhing to manic beats of impulsivity.

let the mythic waves
consume you
like runaway lovers
drowning in a sea of lust.

a snapping shrimp will tell you
why the ocean is 9 degrees warmer
this winter
if you listen without the filter of denial;

and give you the insight
to a lyric
that gets you paid.

~ P