Marshall E Gass Poems

Those aged between 10-16, trade in your toy soldiers
for real guns at Barrack No 33 along
mocambo rd. Come alone. Parents not invited.
...

Around the pool of chandelier light the movers and shakers gathered
in tight knots, unwilling to untangle from the policy books
intent on pushing fences further out into the Caspian Sea
across the Black Sea and encircling the whole Artic Circle
...

The silence was sinister, as if, sound had lost its vocal chords,
the days arrived and sunsets painted the sky in crimson
and gold leaf ensembles of artists dreams.
...

My time in the shadows has darkened me to pale yellow
words that sing in the jazz moment of knowing
how the rhythm undresses the silky smooth curves
of the rhymes that bloom and blitz in the moment
...

Banked up against a terraced mountainside
photogenic pristine rows
of blasting green
rows of manicured waterways
...

Big bang dust that created fifteen billion years ago
still courses
through our ash wednesdays.
nothing escapes the recycling of resources
...

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
...

Flick a long lash
even accidentally
and a world of lust arises
Flick a false lash
...

In the subterranean channels
of the giant coliseum lurks a breed
of predators that only need a finger
to cast a vote for power.
...

No aeroplanes should leave the capital,
incoming traffic should be diverted into hangars
loaded with soldiers of no recognisable denomination.
...