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Best Poems Written by Colin Marschall

Below are the all-time best Colin Marschall poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Bleeding the Optimism

Rust on padlocked factory gates
from tears of broken men.
Time has stopped on the golden watch,
freeze framed memories of a better past.

Scattered faces breed sour looks
for brothers of nepotism
with handshakes that nearly broke arms.

Crouched in side streets
observing worldly peasants passing.
Slave ganged with vacuum eyes
tripping through life's labyrinth.

Putrid stares of jealous intent
drooling venom; casting adjectives of annihilation,
gouging notches from the family tree
with a calm, icy incision.

Family values dead
incestuous intent
breeding dole queue bastards.
Underground society of leeches
bleeding optimism.

Ghetto laws written in cordite rooms
Switch-blade; preferred method of payment,
for dreams inhaled from crack bongs.
Joining dots of needle tracks
reveals a picture of despair.

Deaths lottery, depression, calling out your numbers.
Jackpot being long awaited sleep.

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Midnight

Masonic rituals performed by dancing shadows 
Inspired by the pale moons light 
Demons tempting chaste virgins 
Needing comfort in the chilling night 
Incandescent spectres, like mist, crawl from the mere 
Garnished in willow-o-wisp shrouds 
Honour to the midnights guardians 
That cry their allegiance, to the sky, aloud 

Trapped within the tunnel vision 
Harbringer seeks familiar ground 
Granite bars lock in silence 
Interrupted by the baying hound 
Nwyvre seated on throne of stars 
Deeming this the vision hour 
Isis sits nursing dawns unborn light 
Midnight; time of greatest power

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Another Night

I dreamt your illusion
                    {In voyeuristic colours.}

Bedded down the rust
of wizen memories
                    {sun dried.}

Laid harvest moon
upon devils night;
drank vacuous images
it produced.

In the saw-teeth bracelet,
I read another epitaph
                    {and learned your name.}

A bible, sewn to your heart,
Kerouac’s roman candle
burned bright,
                    {not a tiger in sight.}
Yet you always purred,

so loud.

I watched as you
overflowed,
drenching the thirst
of arid admirers.
                    {Laughing at drunken egos.}

That frown you dropped,
landed upside down.
I watched as you picked
up a smile,
then wonder who the madman was.
                    {It was always you.}

Macadam was missing
(in)sanity that you threw
at empty spaces,
while trying to hide,
                    {in between raindrops.}

At least in tomorrow’s birth
we can douse explanations.

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Terpsichore Torment

Delightfully dancing delicate doppio,
twirling the twisted turns.
Staccato steps, softly sublime
Reaching rich rapture.

Pausing, pondering performance parameters
Considering critical, controversial clash
Taking time to tackle the tearful troupe
Before breaking buoyant babble

Wizen words, woefully wrapped,
delivered. Deadening delirious delight.
Seeking solace; silent sobs slip softly.

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

In Your Arms No Pain Will Last

This is a classic Acrostic .. but with a twist, each even line has internal rhyme, each
odd line has end rhyme ... plus odd lines are 8 syllables, even 6.

Inside your smile, I rest awhile.
No words; just eyes that speak,

Yearning fingers, touch that lingers
On silkiness of cheek.
Under saffron light; before night
Renders lovers to rest

A kiss we share dispels despair,
Remorse; a leaving guest.
May faith enfold these arms that hold
Safely, your tender trust.

No nightmares come for dreams undone
Once fear has turned to dust.

Perhaps too fast my hand is cast
And passion may just pause,
If this is so then you must know,
No-bodies perfect, all have flaws.

When hesitation calls; builds walls,
In this bond, created.
Listen to me and you will see
Lasting truth is stated

Laying here, you so close, so near
A vow, softly spoken.
Shadows will not fall, end it all,
This love shall never be broken.

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Devil In Disguise

Your sequin smile dazzles,
shining brightly as cubic zirconium.
Your words drip like a komodo dragons spit,
never allowing emotional wounds to heal.

Black manicured nails rip and shred
tender innocent hearts, while your kisses
spread the virus of loss.

Your body a temple, where many have worshipped.
Down on bended knee, sipping the communal vessel.
Turning devotion to slavery.

Your flick of hair the ultimate dismissal.

Around your neck stole of ego trapping
feelings in its death grip.
Spiders silk embrace wrapping masculine bravado,
to feed upon at your leisure.

Harbinger of social graces demise.
Bar room chat lines your auto cue,
to place the angel mask, again, upon evils smile.

Knowing all the right phrases, all the right moves.
Tonight’s conquest hanging to your apron strings,
hoping for the tender pat on fevered brow,
or sweet confines of fleshy hole.
Driving home to the rhythm of whores moans,
as your slime caresses turn the key
of one night stand intent to lifetime servitude.

Stiletto heels walking on broken dreams,
Kicking down feeble attempts of revenge.

I know who, and what, you are;
Yet still,
my hunger burns for you.

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Composite Collision

Car
crash,
melded
bodies meet.
Symbiotically joined,
Steel, bone, blood, oil, a maelstrom broth,
curdled by singing shrapnel of temporary hell.
Metal screams breaking the rhythm
of organic song.
Crow's lament
carries
lost
souls

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

View From a Bed-Sit

Reciting soliloquies to lonely cobbled aisles,
a fractured mind drifts within innocence.
Remembering long forgotten memories
with a chortle, echoed against the crawling mist.

Black BMW cruises the street,
hoping to pick up a war,
and as the train grinds to a halt
another truant steps from the merry-go-round.
Taking the helter-skelter to self-destruction,
all because of liquid dreams.

With her braided hair, a class room butterfly
scratches undying love into brick red wall.
Sharing cigarettes and secrets with jealous confidantes,
while the dancing headlights of the last bus,
kiss innocence good-bye.

Fighting the dark, street light paralysis its victim,
unsure of the minefield ahead,
until sanctuary is breached again.

Sweating stones grease the passage-way
that broken hearts take for temporary release.
Too many bruises pinned upon the arms,
that fold around, to be ever mistaken for a mothers hug.

Tom cats and bitches scuttle home,
escaping false dawns light.
Hobo crawls into cardboard castle,
meths and nightmares his un-sleeping partners.

returning normality.

Postman delivers the final reminders,
as hacking shutters rise to greet the tainted day.

Braided butterfly waves good-bye
to her prince, no longer an innocent;
Yet still, somehow, pure in her uniform.

Haze seeps from the greased stones
as pseudo mother unlocks her door,
knowing the false moans are finished
and for a time she can lay down to sleep.

Torn curtain falls to hide reality,
while the sweeper cleans last nights crystal dreams.
Watched by chalk hearts proclaiming "2gether, 4ever"

Cleansed by the morning rain, street credibility returns.

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Tainted Reflection

Oh mother!
How many times have you sat here just as I do?
Looking at the reflection of someone you don’t know
Reading all the lines crossing your once perfect complexion
Comparing today’s reality with yesterday’s picture
How many times have you gazed at me with jealous eyes?
Seeing all that you have lost
Dragging me to become what you could not
When all I wanted was the touch of your love
Now I gaze upon my reflection
Trying to see through this window of your soul
What makes you take my childhood dreams?
And toss them away like some broken toy
You stripped away my innocence with make-up and dresses
Gave me hard lessons, that beauty is power
Stifled my happiness in the pursuit of fame
And left me with nothing but a face I despise
I look into this mirror of my fortune
I see a child, an angel, with broken wings
Chained to the will of an expectant guardian
One who will stop at nothing to gain what is not hers.
My dreams are not your dreams
My ambitions are not yours to live
My future not yours to borrow

Oh mother, 
Please let me be!

Details | Colin Marschall Poem

Masked Evolution

Stepping backwards into our future,
blowing into the bag of our achievements.
Fabric stretching reality; ready to burst

Indianapolis track of progression.
Conscience, hard wired from the system
and morality, a discarded well worn tyre.

Digging mines to bury nature,
while we sing a laments lie.
Wailing that our television dreams
no longer satisfy.
Rosacea landscapes “proudly” proclaim
testaments to our “care.”
While we machinate on peaceful accords.
(A bloody blade already drawn.)

Subfusc faces, in rainbow towns,
knock fairytales to the ground,
all wrapped in debts boa embrace
we wear our plastic crowns.
Hero’s come, hero’s go,
like ice cream around children.
Old warriors barricade park bench castles,
sipping 100% proof amnesia.

A generation weaned on high fibre ignorance,
apathetically observing Pandora’s box.
Glibly strutting towards suicidal genocide
beneath peroxide standards of progress.

Do you see the white flag of innocence?
Blowing in the ether of bull-sh1t. 
Do you see the hand of hope?
Dead flesh from the severed arm.
Do you see the words of faith?
That fall so easily from blasphemers lips,
and what of love; a four letter word spelled f-u-c-k.

An enlightened people? We shield our eyes,
bounce from walls of our tunnel vision.
Forever throwing problems at the framework,
expecting it to hold.

The faster we run, the slower we move,
sowing dreams on barren ground.
Death; we’re breast-fed on its demands.
Can’t you hear the world screaming,
or is fairground music to loud?

Evolving devolution,
green-mile macadam,
we rush to oblivion.