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Best Karl Marszalowicz Poems

Below are the all-time best Karl Marszalowicz poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Looking into the Mirror

"Looking Into the Mirror"
Sudden realizations iced up his core 
To form the frozen image of a man 
He who stared in reflected embarrassment
While sobering silence takes over the room
As this was not the person he was to become
But for childish dreams that stuck with him
Fantastic machinations that warped a man's mind
So he'd remain a child who never grew up
And had to face his parents on occasions 
The adult to them is just on the exterior
Because he made a living selling his voice
Though in using it to say I'm sorry
His parents would have to wait 
Just like the forever he has waited 
To hear them say we love you for what you are
A child never grows too old 
For their parents open arms

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

Ice cream man

Summer comes and goes with this guy's timely presence
The kids chase after the van much as dogs after a cat
Elusive though he is, we swear to run him down
For a few simple dollars money does buy happiness

His age old chimes ring the friendly bells 
A welcomed euphony however short it is
The reminder of oral ecstasy start kids pleading to their parents
For five dollars they can bring their daddy back one too!

Tantalizing tongues going around town with his music astir
Making us drool in the same Pavlovian way
 A mid afternoon snack for the children so good
And a promise they'll eat spinach at five o'clock

Passed from the man in the white shirt and hat 
To the children who stand on tippy toes for ice cream cones 
As they struggle to reach over the table between the two 
They count their blessings when it doesn't spill

Two scoops of heaven and celestial sounds
Traveling countless areas of interest
Even his portable freezer cannot keep 
Our hearts from melting for him

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem


The God that never was, puts one shoe on at a time
And spends four hours in the make-up room 
Putting on mascara and eye liner for the darker look 

Occult man of seemingly rebellious nature 
Is deified by the masses that show up to performances
He, a man of strong portrayal even at a skinny 155 pounds 
Grows stronger with every compact disc sold and the overuse of base 
Blowing out of a sound system which rocks the car next to you
While you wait for the light to turn green
Abandoning social mores of quietness well into the night

The appeal grows everyday for a man really just making a living
Out of his fans age group they have no idea what he is
Whether the media builds him up or tears him down
As a good guy to hate and a bad boy at heart
Any press is good press, though infamy might be better for sales

Topping the charts and making parents sick of his songs
He is a beneficiary of childhood splurging and so inclined to be
The adults wish for a mere fifteen minutes of his fame
So their children would listen to them with the same respect
But who were they when listening to cassette tapes?
And the bands of the eighties put on make-up then
 A man of mixed persuasion people are drawn to his ambiguity 
The role model singing about jail time and Hennessey
A toughness to some is a weakness to others
It makes you wonder if the man knows who he is! 
Whoever that is and for all it's worth
There will be more than enough of him to go around
In his image that is larger than life

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

Ice King

Ice King
By Karl Marszalowicz

Null in the numbness
Defunct system collapsing
His blight in my hand

Abuses don't melt
Reliving a time of need
Cold words blistered me      
Crying icicles
Shattering a childhood
He liked me frost bit    

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

Marching Band

"Marching Band"
Dapper dilettantes take over one hundred yards 
Showing their feathers like a cockatoo on pointy shakos 
Displaying their talents on grass they are anything but green 

Ready to give resplendent resonance through beasts of golden brass
Popping percussive drumming getting drilled into them by a sergeant
Time and time again by so many rehearsals they know formations by heart
The time for sweat and tears is over, they are here to perform

Atten hut! 

Impressing the crowd with baton twirling 
Majorettes turn into marionettes as the sergeant pulls their strings
Compact formation now, the crowd will wait for hot dogs
Watching a half time special while they stand alert in place

About face!

Witnessing scintillating choreography with a one, two turn
The symbols get their chance to be rim shot participators
And the Grand Marshall leads the baton twirlers aside
For the color guard and their blinding high definition radiance 
No one is out of phase and the scene is picture perfect
Then they dive into the scatter drill 
Show their true talents with life, love and liberty to move where they want
Individual inspiration takes over each one to the ensemble 
This is the real reason they are here, for happiness 

They make way for the gymnasts while maintaining play
Who express their own interest in the spectacle of somatic arts
Triangles and fantastic figures on three people straddled high
Build in the crowd a new love for geometry

They have to give way though in good measure 
To guns of glory and so many shots sent high in the air
Puffs of smoke are burst sky high, evaporating a salutary good bye 
Thanks for watching

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

Green House of the Sick Man

"Green House of the Sick Man" 
Imagining the lush, trickled and tickled
By spray of light thoughts, my healing possibly
To be that clover in full bloom again 
My body looked more like onion weed

I wished for the irrigation from the botanist
These thoughts, they want to crop up as
He taps on both my knees, offering some advice
"You won't sprout from your bed for a couple days.
Don't forget ventilation, open those windows. "

My cold frame was evidence I had not been taking my pesticides
A fodder for other animals' discussions downstairs 
Not ready yet, but don't put me out to pasture for them
It is my job to sell at the marketplace, rising to full radiance 

Though feelings of worry might crop up, wondering 
About my yield, I might yield, but never concede 
I coughed up less nutrients than yesterday 
Still an arable land I wish to be a legume
And be with my friends again, all peas in a pod. 

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

Group Effort

Midgeted paws gently experiment 
with the silken whiskers of their maternal dynamo
Dabbling with the conscious but succumbing 
softly to the confetti of uninhibited dreams

Rejoicing in a triangle of togetherness  
Basking in the periwinkles of space and time
Under a backdrop of light and optimism
   Enjoying the nuances of peace and temperance 
Their unified thoughts epitomize one harmony
Each sending a message, don't ever leave me.

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

Good Vibrations

Morning dew lets
drip essential
waters, the active
ripples drop,
landing, working
with the melting
ponds, to release
surface tension 
The callings of
chirping birds,
pleasantries to ears
everywhere, fervent
life, the eager
promise of things to
The good morning sun
evaporates people's
resentment, feelings
over three months of
abandonment, making
it up with a return 

Rich with golden
A father figure  

Hatch lings making
their identity
known, breaking from
shells to survive,
congregating around
mother for advice, 
Feeling the
strengths of
togetherness, still
insecure, even under
the gentlest of
April breezes, that
whisper comforting
The Lush trees,
restore their former
selves, showing
boldness and beauty
and shade and
shelter, trying to
outdo each other  
Nature and Nurture
Kissed by the broken
Fragility fades

 Strong showers
precipitate as the
tears of the sun,
bringing out regrets
for having left us
at all, so fondly
       Our offspring
play in the muddy
puddles, birds
flutter about to
bathe, flowers grow
bolder, while bees
work the sap 
Libidos driven by a
fervor, wanting to
be part of it all,
form partnerships
and blessed unions
worldwide, we will

Our prosperity
Interlinking all of
Timeless equation  

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

If not for her

The breath in me weakened 
even before we became one.
Every palpitation was priceless
Her presence was deliberate 
Her purpose was me.

My heart slowed with the possibility
Of her entrance into the same room
She was near when I collapsed.
I was going to be cupid's conman 
that day just to steal a kiss of life. 

She broke the ice to ask if I 
 was okay, as she felt my wrist,
It happens I would always pulse for her.
Then as she neared to open my chin 
I felt the warm breathe of life within. 

We counted the seconds that passed
While pressing insistently on my chest
Two rings meant to be linked together
It was magisterial what she did for me
But now I would need her lips forever.

Details | Karl Marszalowicz Poem

What he turned out to be

"What He Turned Out to Be"
He who was a head banger  
Idolized man a with too much make up on 
And danced around a room cram packed with decibels  
Playing one of many lavish air guitars there was an infinite supply of them 
Maybe he was that person, as he saw himself in a poster
Some suspect any other influence would've been better
Instead choosing to fall under the power of notes 
Succumbing to the concerts and the chaos 
There are clusters of bodies bouncing by the thousands
Music made him dive headlong into waters of similar people
Harmonious spells they are, encouraging joyous times of irresponsibility 
Rocking to his rhythmic beat and the life style of rock star entertainment
A man center stage feels his own groove
He himself swaying to the thumping and bumping 
The entertainer know his songs all too well
And the head banger asks for more late into the night
How can the man on stage deny?
Calls for certain songs are indulged 
The event must end sometime 
A reminder most fans matter not so much, their loyal doth fade
But forget this one not, as the man who is a groupie