The Literary Review
Thrust and Parry
(Part 1 – Thrust)
I felt your isolation
Witnessed your embarrassment
As every man crumbled
Bowed down at your feet
Promising you devotion
Praised your beauty
You knew they only saw you
As a trophy, a piece of meat
Your face, a template for sadness
Your eyes, a map of sorrow
You traded your tomorrows
For an irresponsible joyride
Of high and lows
That protective camouflage
You once wore so well
Now shows the cracks in the armor
Exposing your private hell
The plane across the Atlantic
Was spinning towards a crash
I grabbed your hand in anguish
The man next to you made a pass
You smiled and led him on
Knowing you could no longer care
When we landed safely
You simply disappeared
- Drew Marshall
Private Thoughts for Public Consumption
The adroit arbitrators of non-science
Feed an exhausted nation with false confessions
Preachers of havoc serve up an endless supply
Of temporary lies to obliterate the obvious
Blinded by power and affluence
Officials of dubious distinction fill the airwaves
Overwhelm us with truth free distractions
Delivered with impotent stares
Injustice is served by humorless bureaucrats
These hatemongers didn’t notice the karmic backlash
By those naked and vulnerable
And their rejection of indoctrination
The powers that be were not protected
By their bomb shelter discrimination
When the explosion in the fantasy factory occurred
The underbelly chic felt the fears they inflicted
The false gods retreated
As the retro rage of the masses erupted
Chewing is a psychological process
That lets the brain know you are full
Despite the mandate
I am back from the abyss
I’ll never be one hundred percent again
But at least I’m back in the fight
- Drew Marshall
Forgetting to Dream
We made our heroes and bled our heroes
Forced them to be role models
Demanded they bear the mark of enlightenment
Dragged them down to our level
When they disappointed
Then we destroyed them
Briefly they burn brightly over the blighted
Forgotten fugitives from existence
We, who pay any price
For the sale of escapism
Science and the fine arts
Cannot protect or save us from ourselves
We treat yesterday’s heroes as obsolete
Out of touch with today’s realities
They’ve been cruising in limos far too long
Yet we still sing their songs
Unique individuals. are artifacts of the past
We built a world where nothing can last
We exist between desire, dependency and disappointment
Always on the verge of some future happiness
In today’s hit and run reality of shortsightedness
In this life we call existence
It’s easy to squander your resistance
The downwardly mobile
Can’t remember the future
Some say that’s only a rumor
Forget reason, sanity and hope
In the 21st century, you’re on your own
- Drew Marshall
Thrust and Parry
(Part 2 – Parry)
Just a thin veneer, shamelessly presenting
A soul that slowly slipped into oblivion
Savagely sweet, beautifully bitter
Lost in arrogant failures
Beleaguered beliefs and logic
Long ago abandoned
Rich with contradictions, inundated with afflictions
Meet me once again at my opinion
Our special place, the abstract lounge
The unencumbered, unfettered passion
When we were in awe of its beauty and terror
Reveling in the dreams of angels
Where sky walking through the pain is the norm
Shadow jumping, knowing history is a vicious trap
This is my version, so I have the write of way
Love rationed is love denied
Whether breathing backwards or forgetting to breath
Assassination of the mindset was in order
You are the heir to my misfortune
In this declaration of non-conformity
Along the drained reservoirs of hope
The pain is exhausting
Now I crave the quiet
Find solace in stillness
Silence spoken here
- Drew Marshall
Claim to Fame
When the messiah went electric in ‘65
It was clear, only the hip would survive
The message, take no prisoners alive
The era of longhairs and guitars, had arrived
The times were the property of youth
Peace and love versus ugly truths
Nothing dared to be impossible
Just as sure as Marlon Brando
Was the post-World War II revolution
Wrapped up in one person
The prophets voice sang to us
The masters make the rules
Now is not the time
To hide your contempt for the fools
When it was the bible of the counterculture
When there was such a thing
I had my letter published
In Rolling Stone magazine
The sacred writings of the guidebook
Had run a cover story on Carlos Santana
In 1975, the artist released a new LP; Amigos
Hailed as a return to form
He was back at the top of the charts
After years of experimenting with jazz- funk fusion styles
My claim to fame?
Or was it all the laughter, love and friendship I gave?
- Drew Marshall
As the Id Breaks from Pandoras Box
The sun announced it would not shine any longer
The star around which the earth orbits
Stated it was through casting pearls at swine
The life-giving warmth of the sun
Concedes it is no match
For the irascible darkness of earthlings
The cocoa glistens
Under the dark-skinned moonshine
Primal juices lay in wait
They must be pounded dry to obtain
The irresistible nectar
Of the fierce harvest
Once satisfied, they are quickly discarded
Never to be remembered or discussed
During the light of day
Forced into the category
If the need arises
Under occasional truths
- Drew Marshall