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Best Poems Written by Marco Chies

Below are the all-time best Marco Chies poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Novalis

nor our whispered word
or smiles screams tears matter
you me we nothing
but avalanche of blood yes
time crushing everything yeah
and the heavy hot sun he too
because everything is empty of the past
absent from the future
just this quick present
uncertain
unclean
devastating

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Psycho

trapped in the category of basic feelings, attesting to the functional regularity of the average human and demonstrating the crystal-clear predictability of their secular behavior, hatred, love, envy and jealousy consolidated practically all the advance and retreat of a race that eternally gravitates around its own navel, growing at the limit of the satisfaction of instincts and collapsing to the exact extent and at the time when it judges itself full and satiated, ignoring or comfortably avoiding understanding that both transcendence and evolution require the uprising of satiety, since this in everything resembles resignation and cowardice.

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Crackhead

it's a beautiful day
and i'm passing through this cursed place:
they are celebrating free lunch at crack land today!
on the dirty and horrible street,
zombies walk around wearing rags.
gathered in small groups,
they burn crack rocks nonstop.
small arguments on street corners,
two bums exchange punches
and nobody cares about the guy knocked out,
moaning and bleeding along the gutter.
a charity institution decided to help,
made food for this horde of desperate.
watching the chaotic line for lunch,
I saw a girl who was once beautiful
and beside her a gigolo smiles toothlessly.
when she notices my insistent gaze
she tries to fix her hair 
and she arranges her disheveled clothes.
finally, she throws a can of beer at my car.
I soon realized that this was not an attack:
she just defended the dignity she still had
as if she said: I'm not exactly that!
and your eyes have no right to judge me!
I accelerated and got out of there.

Details | Marco Chies Poem

Qaress Genisless

when the diver
with his deluded desire on fire
juxtaposed the diving suit
and found false gold ingots at the bottom of the sea,
he had the vision of Eden obliterated by fire,
because if immersed or submerged as a result of errors,
you find nothing inside or outside of yourself
that is not a simulacrum of what is real,
for in the stationary orbit of irregular thoughts,
the phatic chains collapse
and what was wild about you natural
today is a modern polymer so processed,
to the point that the rattle of these failures
subdues an entire strain of humanism
that we happen to have one day
and our current mix of insanity and obsession
it is just what does not free us from more abysses,
not even if unhappiness depended only on it
or if the risk of succumbing as a gender
no longer exist in us unnecessary.

Details | Marco Chies Poem

Bingo

I'm an old woman sweeping the sidewalk
organizing in the street my autumnal mental chaos
I have bitten nails like someone who watched a lot of television
my eyes scared to see the violence of the calendars
saw yesterday that my keychain collection is dusty
and sleep in the back shed with my broken bike
now that my unemployed son has divorced
I left him the master bedroom
that I once shared with his dead grumpy father
I hope he doesn't bring it home
the shameless ones he finds at the bar
an old woman like me only got one thing to celebrate
It's when a sunny Sunday afternoon arrives
and I go running to bingo to bet and date

Details | Marco Chies Poem

The Strangest Me I Have

the strangest me I have
attended this morning in mind
pointing out things I didn't know
about myself
for example the power of resignation
that I demonstrated by not rebelling
when the garbage swallowed my convictions
and also the ability to heal myself
of the painful wounds that were inflicted
by the continual battles of contradictory thoughts
the weirdest me take charge sometimes
if higher emotional intelligence is needed
to resolve these existential questions
for which I traditionally have no answers
for being a complete idiot
when the matter concerns
to something other than
the usual simple and regular self.

Details | Marco Chies Poem

Clavius

Who has never seen the hole inside the hole
On that moon parked there in the courtyard,
In the crater within the crater,
The cold silver light that Clavius generates?

We the lost mass
Obese owners of apartments with no view,
Blind travelers beneath the stars,
impatient patients,
ignorant of galaxies and infinity.

(Clavius is one of the largest crater formations on the Moon. It is so large that it harbors other craters in its interior.)

Details | Marco Chies Poem

Milton's Curse

(On this last night insomnia did not allow me to sleep. The recurring image of the stone giants contained in Milton's poetry assaulted my mind. The way I found to 'take revenge' was to honor him with this poem).


again a broken night...
dawn of poisonous delusions
eyes that refuse rest
trying to keep fixed on something terse
body that denies brain command
maybe it's some kind of modern curse
something that prevents sleep from coming
as if there was a threshold
of old rocky sentries
equal to those created by Milton Hankins
in 'Old Sentry Standing Guard'
menacingly posted
between the concrete of wakefulness
and the dream and its shards
not sleeping would be wanting to tie life
and not let it grow old?
this is the meaning of the craft of writing
this is the power a poet can have
enable the creation of the imagery and the unreal
with such a strong force
able to turn the verb into truth
able to build a new reality
or find the fountain of eternal youth

Details | Marco Chies Poem

Lottery

hard to understand how we got here
the kitchen clock full of gooey moments
warning us to build now what we have not yet lived
but it's sad because all it took was one key
a damn password or any abracadabra
thing to decipher those riddles
that prevent us from growing
something to get us out of these picturesque circumstances
lost between culinary recipes 
miracle remedies and endless advertisements
if in the morning we could see in the mirror 
less disappointment
if we got out of bed with some discipline
and if a car finally passed on the street
all colorful playing that happy song
and invited you:
Marco, come here 
you won
take it look how cool 
your first million!!!

Details | Marco Chies Poem

Apples

and what place is this,
she asked intrigued,
young non-binary ignorant of everything
that did not refer to gender.
-in this orchard I harvest our future tumor,
I told him, who was still amazed,
the bulging eyes of a student
doing his school research.
here I pick the transgenic apples,
I said, showing her the basket full of fruit.
-I drink boxed juices, he said;
there are vitamins in them,
it's written in the app...
and then he said his sister is autistic
and she loves to sit in the kitchen,
turning on and listening to the microwave sound.
a small plane dropped the defensive
and we saw the most colorful rainbow in the world
like a soda label on the plantation.
we will have a good harvest this year, I said.
guarantee of a good contract with the hospital,
I said smiling sarcastically.
seriously, she asked and i left the question sound
echo among the small apple trees in the orchard.
now the moon was smearing silver
a grayish sunset remnant.
then, an almost translucent father arrived 
with the electric car, shaved face
of those who work with e-commerce.
from the window he said: we had dinner at nine,
let's go girl!
and I imagined this family under the LED lights,
charging cell phones beside the bed,
modern people with medical plans
that cover almost everything.
I said goodbye while turning on the flashlight.
at night I look for maggots in the apples,
but I never found any of them.