Is medicine…
Hand written
For the soul.”
— © R.Marrs~2014

Is med…




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Weakened linguistics
gently laid 
upon the waiting
raging metal.

Pulverized by
Weighted decisions
Heavy with burden.

Pain is a hammer in
Wanting hands 
Poetically shaping 
Malleable happiness.

Molten thoughts boil,
through aquatic 
to perfection.

© R.Marrs~2014.


Eye contact

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You ask me to look at you
All I feel are your hands, electrified bright blue.
My skin conducting the attraction of your high voltage touch.
Our pain intertwined…
Innocence buried under crumbling Sand Castles,
waiting to be exposed.
You ask me to look at you
The vultures circling this rotting love
have already dined on my eyes.
The truth is…
I’ve never needed them, 
to see you.



Photo is property of *(www.fanpop.com)

I dance among the clouds.

I peer through the eyes of storms,

and see my reflection in their lightning hearts.

Cities sparkle with life beneath me.

They pock the earth like, concrete scabs.

Satellites above me argue with each-other in passing.

The crowded space they share, blocks my view of heaven.

I soar with birds on my descent.

I envy their wings, as their feathers remind me

my stay here…

Is temporary.

© R.Marrs~2014


Photo is Property of *(www.pond5.com)

The light of tomorrow digitized in electric brains.
Like children we wade egos through liquid crystals.
Laughing at our reflections in its smooth ripples.
We ride black holes, while they devour starlight above
cyber playgrounds littered with opinions.
Lucid realities oxidize in the exposed air, as
Ideas move at light speed.
I shed my virtual skin.
Falling out of sync.

©R. Marrs 2014

The Maze

photo is property of *(www.cedricbrehaut.com)

Under the guise of control I escape.
Crooked intersecting paths extending endlessly.
My destiny trapped within these walls of my demise.
Each dizzying twist and turn identical.
Blind whispers guide me.
This living trap, sealed tightly around my fate thread
Infecting the fabric of my life.
Warm corridors with flesh like texture throb with my touch.
I claw at its flaccid facade until it ruptures.
The deluge of blood smells of freedom.
I exit my prison.
Only to find…
My torn body on the floor.

  ©R.Marrs 2014


Photo is the property of* (www.picstopin.com)

More will come for what they covet most.

Somber souls searching dead shores, for youth and beauty long lost to the waves.

The chase of the unattainable leaves foot-prints tinged with pink sand from bloody feet, as the pain becomes acceptance.

The pursuit of completion is known to drive most to shatter to pieces.

Rebuilding themselves in odd shapes, made to please the on-lookers.

Doe-eyes batting with humming bird rapidity, awaiting approval.

Self worth melting in the radiance of judgement.

Drowning while fighting to free the labels weighted about their necks.

Systematically conforming , in real-time.

The waves of time crash against our shores robbing life, grain by grain.

Ever so gently.

We all return like droplets to the sea.

©R. Marrs 2014