Marcus Poems | Examples

Premium Member Blue

I never really noticed your blue;
hidden under transparent shields
screaming to be noticed... or something.

Just came across as angry or sad,
wanting to forget some bad...
but not blue, never that.

Not the kind to bind a knot;
throw their lot in with chance's whim
to test if fate says sink or swim

and lose...

Premium Member Allegory - or - Fanfare for Corpocracy's Rise

In silence, we watch shadows pass
they shape our thoughts and feed the farce

Moulding lives to fit the lies
that see us strive, conform and die

And scared of what we do not know
we do not move or seek to go

But idle in their well known forms
find safety in such practised norms

There is no need to speculate
the shadows teach us fear and hate

Breed small world views and selfish thoughts
dispense with troubling shoulds and oughts

It matters not what's right or wrong
so long as we all nod along

While voices preach invented truths
to justify each new abuse

As newborn Gods, those few rich men
close liberty's gate and lock the pen

Embrace what once seemed quite absurd
they are the path, we are the herd

In barless cages, through blinkered eyes
accepting corporate sponsored rise

The missing light upon that wall
...an absence which now stains us all

(Image credit: Sara Fang)

Julian the Apostate and Marcus Aurelius

"Their cross will decay
Rome will be as a phoenix
Helios will reign supreme"

"The sun always sets 
Accept the eagle’s old age
Find dominion in your mind"


Premium Member Ghost in the Machine

am I just this fleeting moment
a ripple in time's flow
shackled to one body
must follow when it goes

or is there more to 'being'
an eternal flame that burns
and though my mortal flesh must die
the soul within returns

most now say we have 'one shot'
so live a life that's full
and while, in part, I see their point
I hate to think that's all

with countless years in history's wake
and many yet to come
my impact on the universe
so very close to none?

I need to feel there's so much more
some meaning or some goal
a reason why, a wider plan
that paints a bigger 'whole'

so I'll take the path that makes most sense
there's more to life than seems
and maybe I'm just passing through
... a ghost in this machine

Premium Member Mila 18 By Leon Marcus Uris

read with absorptive guilt, aged sixteen; it haunts me and will never leave.

Premium Member Karma

know thyself; is your life on the right track
aligned with, refined by, the principles of dharma
refrain, abstain, be kind and be calmer
meditate, seek meaning: find moral momentum
all actions count on this trip to nirvana


Premium Member Being Feared

Yes, I am what you fear.
But it’s only because of 
what you choose to believe,
and what you then choose to see,
that you manifest the threat 
... which is apparently me.

Does that sound familiar
my prejudiced friend?
I’m something strong, strange and powerful
with no common ground shared;
but my mind’s unimportant, 
just how I look - why you’re scared?

And with arrogant indifference
you don’t learn, change or grow
- ruthlessly efficient, no mercy to show.
Ignorantly happy, the worst human trait;
you can’t be bothered to know me - 
you just want to hate.

Premium Member Fathers Pride

I’m the prince with calloused palms
up at dawn with stifled yawns; pulling on boots
feeding pigs and herding cows - stuck in mud, it’s raining now
and as I plough, I dream of life... not on a farm

of white walled castles crowned in gold (like the tales told of old) 
where beautiful princesses dance and laugh 
(with roaring fires in their hearths) blowing kisses at princes 
brave and bold - none of them shivering, miserably cold

but dreams are dreams, and so I plough
heir to acres; fit and well (and down in the village, there is this girl)
I have no castle, but I’ll ask for her hand 
in time, a son, and new prince of this land

Premium Member Pathogen

fractured; the angry march
to I’s nexus

red, not gold, tracks.. wired to
perfect black

catastrophic chiroptera
see this cornucopia -

what plenty?

Premium Member The Queens Man

sat in a prison of my making
dark holes in piled skulls
an unwelcome reminder

I am nothing like that boy
so full of righteous ambition
certain of what was just; right

blinded by that conviction
consumed by my fervour
I became the whirlwind

danger swims in certainty’s waters
sirens sing and sailors sink 
rapt in passions promise

armour now covers what’s left
immedicable wounds etched within -
right can become wrong

I learned to build walls
to separate and preserve 
some salvaged solemn sense of self

a sworn queen’s man
duty done, I sit apart 
making peace with ghosts

Premium Member Shaman

I did not choose, I was chosen
the gate and keeper;
killer and cure

life not mine for living
walking paths you cannot see 
talking tongues you do not know

I am the light burning inside
the darkness at the shore
that shadow in the corner

eyes, windows to be shared
extramundane -
soul searcher, truth sayer, circle squared

I am ancient numinosity
no idle curiosity
- I see the end

Premium Member Dungeness

copper burns across an endless sky
competing caws claim salt, surf and sand 
sailing high above slowly sagging carcasses 
long forgotten at the edge of the world 

buckled rails swim over a shimmering shingle sea
the largest of its kind, hinting at some other time; 
engines once chugged to billingsgate from this beach
herring bound for the cinque ports

and they say women dragged each boat -
pulled them down to that shore’s faithless embrace;
the muttered prayers of mothers and daughters
casting their men out on fortune’s dark waters

now nets, set for a tide that came and went, lay
mouldering among those collapsing clinkers
as if the fisherfolk just left one night, fled
granting the gulls sole control of that desolate dominion

their toil and trade, the legacy of our fathers’ fathers
still lays there on that beach; haunts that huge cove
rich history, like in so many places, fading away 
rotting, rusting, ruined

Premium Member Travels With Grandad

head cradled on folded arms
as a young boy I’d sit rapt 
in the tales told by an old man
as he drew pictures at our dinner table

no bragging, not at all 
just remembrances 
of arid deserts and tuscan sunsets
heaving seas and emptying bellies 

he saw the world
give or take
in six years
for king and country

back then I did not notice the pauses
how he never mentioned friends
eyes magnified through thick bifocals
searching some distant battlefield

he came home and got work in a mill
watched his wife die not long after
brought up three boys alone
but never grumbled, not at all

Premium Member The Cutting Room

the sounds of the night desert me
my mind seized by ill-fates once more
as ripples dispatched by the ferry
lick down this plutonian shore

dark deeds in my lifetime like flotsam
sailing passed in the after-light gloom
arrested in moments so shattered
and birthed from my cutting room womb

memories I locked in dark corners
the ones that break silence at night
festering fears held for too many years
malignance I can’t overwrite

but the ferryman points one gnarled finger
at me, then the scenes floating by
his empty black eyes hold mine for a while
then he turns with a near soundless sigh 

he claimed no coin for their passage
each fare paid in full long before
remnants returning to whom they came from
and I draw in night’s sweet air once more

Premium Member A Night In Paris

spires stretch heavenward in a twilight sky
crimson hues and nighttime blues do battle
as people lope lazily over a dusky bridge
like cattle with cameras;
snapping the domed limestone giant

below, boatmen skim across a shimmering mirror
reflecting fragmented moments
cast down from the world above
floating like flotsam; lifeblood
coursing through the city’s stone heart

amid those masses, we watched
the shadows grow steadily longer
and balls of soft lamplight glow gently brighter
until, suspended in the darkening air
they floated like no post was there

then, just like that -
the city shrugged off day’s last light
wrapping herself in the mysteries of night
where amorous wishes and twisting seine scenes
led to candlelit kisses and solitaire dreams

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