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Author Archives: marcofreschi

About marcofreschi

I live in the Ocean and write poetry

Ode to Espresso

O Espresso

you God-drink,

your super-crema

makes me smile.

Your flavour awakens

Ancestral happiness and pride

and puts me into

A dull and warm state of mind.

Espresso, save me from what

the world is doing to me,

you perfect, dark, fatherly liquid,

You magnificent little tiny cup of coffee,

with the little spoon too!

I want all of you,

and I want drink you up my mouth,

and never let you out!

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Metropolis (the ceaseless sprawl, the feelings I feel)

Bricks and bridges

and highway-signs,

making me start

to lose my mind

Chainlink fences

and streetlight glow

Been making me feel

pretty low

Fire-escape balconies

and cigarette butts

Starting to drive me

a little nuts

Parkway exits

I’ll never drive down

making me wonder,

what’s out there?

Do you Ever have those days

When you just get out of work late,

and you reek like fish from

Chopping off their heads,

And you just are feeling the strain

So Hard,

that you get in your car

and drive to an abandoned asylum

down the road

and walk through the empty rubble-filled courtyards and hallways

and feel the crunch of broken glass under your feet

and look at all the empty, staring windows

and stare right back?

I do.

And I stare at the trees growing out of collapsed rooftops

and the forests of weeds,

At The bottles smashed

(for whatever reason, I may never know)

I stare at the smokestacks and the crumbling roads

at the old Televisions

and the rusted out Machines and rotted plywood.

It’s nights like these

when I take every piece of

graffiti to heart,

And it just crushes me to see

that sad street art,

The overpasses decorated with their scripture.

Just going to drive back home

and write another poem

that she’ll never even read,

Got to try to get some sleep

before I’m born again tomorrow,

but somehow I know

that I won’t get much of that tonight;

So Here I come, tomorrow!

Call of the Pack (Ahwoooouew! Follow Me Into the Night)

One Night in the Woods,

Wolves will run beneath your Skin

and Fur’ll coat your arms.

I’m Sorry Mom.

i’m hurt again

and of coarse I know why.

your words drove


into my stomach

and ripped out organs,

and boy,

did i bleed.

truth is a blade

which pierces all armour,

renders all weapons useless,

and leaves Marco

breathless and crying for air.

of coarse you’re right,

and that’s what always ruins me.

i’ll never change,

because i can’t.

pride to the point of folly

is admirable

But always,

the end is the same.

This is why I know

that the only way that I can live

is on my own.

grown-ups aren’t supposed to act like this.

So what the fuck is wrong with me?

Get Away

Everybody get away,

I’m going to explode

I don’t want to take anybody out with me,

So please


Just Fucking Go.


take a drive to the palisades

Hold your breath and jump;

the Hudson can be the Jordan,

if you believe in that kind of stuff.

Pull yourself out

onto the stony shore

like an old styrofoam cup,

and if you close your eyes

and cough up blood,

Weehawken can become



People are learning all the time; I’m learning so much and I’m doing fine! I visited a developing country, and I Learned SO. MUCH. I read poetry and I take science classes, I am going to change the world with what I learn! I’ve learned all my life from everything around me, for every second of every day, I’ve learned what to wear how to act and what to say. I learned what normal is! I learned what being Successful is! I learned what to call the colour Blue and I learned what to do when a pretty girl walks by. I learned to read and write, and I learned the different stereotypes. I’ve learned that Humans come from Dust, and I’ve learned who it is I can really trust. But what I haven’t learned is What is it about us, That just makes us keep making these same mistakes, Over and Over? Haven’t we learned anything? I’m unhappily thinking that no matter how much we discover and evolve, no matter how many Miracles we preform or diseases we cure, no matter how much Poetry we write or organic snap-peas we eat, That we have not

and we never will.

Oceanus (son of Uranus and Gaea)

I’m a fucking Hurricane

and you’re the coast of Florida.

I’m the Ocean exploding over Sea-walls

and blasting winds throwing showers of Salt down with waterfalls of rain.

I hope you know how to swim,

Because if you don’t,

you’re going to be drowned and battered

into the hull of a ship

Or buried in an instant

beneath 900 tons of water.

I’m going to fill your lungs

and pull you out to me,

where in a seascape of such immensity

and glorious horrifying Augustial fear

blended with a sky of

Saintly blue-grey smears and Lividus hues,

a soul shaking battle of light and Darkness,

the last thing you will see

is me,

In every direction

as far as you can see

Pulling you into my depths,

Beneath  the waves.





remember our back-yard growing up?

all of those kingdoms and nations

and our Indian tribes?

The tree-house that we’d fill with waterballoons

by day

and sleeping-bags by night?

The secrets we’d tell

behind the garage

and the twigs and the mud

remember the hose in the summer-time

and the snow in the winter?

the forts and the acorns?

The cloudy days when we’d sit up the pine tree

or the clear warm nights

when we’d play man-hunt in

the neighborhood?

remember the sound of the leaves rushing through the trees

as the wind would blow?

the army men

and the bow that dad would let us shoot

the old pile of logs that we would find worms in?

remember trying to dig a swimming pool,

but it was just a hole?

when we would hide from Amir

behind those bushes?

remember when we had that old rope to swing on,

hanging from the big tree?

remember when we’d race down the sidewalk

on wagons and skateboards

with old plungers and fist-fulls

of pebbles?

remember going back there to hide

or to cry in the bushes

when we didn’t want to be found?

remember all the army-men

and the times when the world seemed to end

at the fence by Mr. Anseley’s house and the sidewalk

in the front yard?

Well I remember,

and I don’t know why

but it makes me cry

A Drive in the Hamptons

Taking a drive through the Hamptons is like a drive through zoo, and who would’ve knew that Animals could have such pretty cages? I know, it’s Dark, I shouldn’t laugh at them. The sign reads don’t mock the animals. But I don’t Want to mock them! What I Want to do is emancipate them, Just like PETA would have me do. This isn’t how these creatures should be behaving… They shouldn’t need this much medication. Why are they eating that? It’s Unnatural! Ugh that one just shat in her clean drinking water and then flushed it away down a pipe, What’s wrong with her? Wait upon closer inspection it appears They’re killing their own, as a part of some sort of Masochistic game, all they care about is themselves! Others are dying and suffering and fighting wars to support these imprisoned trolls…It’s as if they’re drinking the Blood of the Earth and all It’s inhabitants and calling it Romane Conti, as if they are Worship-worthy Kings of the Jungle dressed in Versace! This isn’t a zoo anymore, these aren’t animals…They’re Monsters. I don’t want to set monsters free. I guess they’re better off inn their cages. Get me out of here, because I’m done pretending. I don’t belong, And I don’t want to.

A Visitor In the Night

old Mephistopheles

may’ve tricked Faust,

but he won’t

get me


This is my exit,

This is where I get off.

It’s been a great drive,

though the going’s been tough.

Life in the Garden State

take your breathe away,

Driving you South

on that old Parkway

I seen some sights

That’ve made me think

and done some things

that make my heart sink.

Now my blinkers on

and I’m changing lanes

It’s time to go on

and head North for a change.

This goddam New Yorker

better get out my way,

Or else I’m going

South to stay.

It’s too late now,

the trap has already been sprung,

The curtains are closing on me

but I’m still so young…


I’m Listening

I spoke with God today,

Out in the Ocean off of Brigantine New Jersey specifically,

near the south jetty.

God said storm clouds

and sheets of rain,

Whipping West winds and swells high as trees.

God said seagulls hung in the slate-gray sky

like kites over the Ocean

And blasts of arctic spray on my back,

and the Taste

of salt in my mouth.

I said tears and hoots

wordless howls and hollers.

I laughed and coughed up lungfulls of that batismal water

and let those winds rip through my salt-stiff hair.

I gave my body to the water

To God

I let it throw me and bury me

envelope me

Destroy me, if that was what God desired.

Yet God said a wet Marco stumbling out onto the beach,

smiling like a lunatic.

God happened to be eating at the same pinelands barbecue pit as I,

for I saw God in the faces of old wrinkled laughing African-American men and women,

and in the children playing in the sandy parking lot

among the pine cones and dried needles.

I saw God again that night, in the light of the setting sun

reflecting off of the sign for Route 40

and in the fireworks in the summer night

Exploding over the Pine Barrens

and in a flipped over Jeep on the side of the road,

flaming and spitting out smoke.

It’s been some kind of day

Further Instructions

In this world

There are Farmers

and there are Hunters,

and I ask myself,

‘Which one are you?’


You are Helpless because you make it so,

and therefore

You disgust me.

The helpless


be helped;

Let them snivel in their self-inflicted

Wounds and woes.

Get up

and take

what is yours to possess,

or fade.

HaHa Ha!

If all this is a joke,

Why aren’t you laughing?

It’s so fucking funny,

Oh my god

I think I’m winning

this game…

If you want to be

a winner with me,

Than you’d better do the same.

in the fold

As I run silently along rooftops, Bare feet carrying me swiftly through the Washingtonian night, I cannot recognize the sound ‘Marco’, for then it is as meaningless to me as all other Man-sounds; On Nights like these I am reborn, and I have been saved! There is nothing to lose and everything to gain, for what is living when I am owned by possessions? by reputation? I am Dangerous; everyone is when they begin to realize what they are capable of, and what this world really is; a fold, filled with sweet sheep and rabbits who are slowly being slaughtered. (all I do is speed them along, it’s a mercy really.) Upon my fur falls that Olympic nectar rain O, the Rain! To mask my scent and make it a Perfect hunt! I am wild, I am free, and I am in the fold; Some dip shit shepherd Has let down his guard, and for this he will pay in flesh. The night is alive with sounds, fast sounds, Wind through Douglas Firs, the hiss of a bus. Sliding down shadowed ladders and through locked doors I am taken, and all around me I see Prey. They have never seen a predatory creature before, and they do not shy away at my approach. I give a Wolfish grin and shake their hands as they let me in, and in my shining eyes is glee and Murder. You’d better run, rabbit run cause here I come to knock down the door and set you


A Confession to Happy Land

I’m doing it again, and I’m letting it happen Even though I know That in the end, the only one who gets Hurt, the real Loser, Is me. I can’t seem to stop destroying myself in a most unique way; Am I running? No; Am I crying? No; In fact, I feel Galvanized, and quite alive, Titanically aware of my existence, and yet, in this world where so many are not, I seem to be falling behind. Through these truths I have found myself in a place where I can’t make myself care about money or social institutions and it is this lack of concern which is destroying me. Now I cannot decide at this crossroads which path to follow; Just because the road I am on leads to destruction, does that make it wrong? My being sits, Calm as snow and still as Night, A peace I’ve never known, As I walk into oblivion, and cut myself to pieces. The contradiction of my current state perplexes me but does not scare me; There is no fear. The fact that I can recognize this paradox gives me Strength and smooths me like an Ocean-stone; And thus with clear mind and perfect peace, I selfdestruct.

Time to Go

Let’s disappear

for more than a year,

and become less than a ghost

in the Ivory Coast.

End of Evolution

Systems evolve

and creature evolve

Situations evolve

As the planets revolve

Feelings evolve

and plants evolve

Relationships evolve

and then dissolve

Spirits evolve

and landscapes evolve

Conflicts evolve

and then resolve

But today,

the Earth stops it’s spinning

and the muzzles of the guns have

gone cold and quiet;

the clouds have frozen

and thought has halted

and inchworms

have stopped their inching.

This is the End of Evolution.

Old Blood

Old Blood

Movin Slow

inside my

Old Pipes,

Old Veins,

thick with

that Deep

Dark Blood

Flowin Slow

Pumped an Pushed

along by this

Old heart,

Old Hands Shakin

Tired of Gettin

Older every instant

Don’t get

Out much,

Stuck here in

this Old

House with

Old books

an Old ghosts

Murkin in

the corners

an along

Those Old

Wooden stairs,

Old halls,

an Old


Old Walls

Where the

Old black

Eyes of

Old, Dead

friends an Brothers

follow me,

watchin me

in everythin

I doin

with those

Old smiles

that ended

Long ago.

Old Blood an

Shakin Hands,

the whole worl

jus what I

can see

from Behind

Old moth-eaten’d

drapes and

old screens,

Quiverin Knuckles achin’

as they

wrap round

m knife

And A

final cry

that comes

out Old

quiet an dry

Nothin’s the

Same an I’m

the last

one left

O that

Old generation

‘xtink like


Old History

writin down

in some

Old Book,

Not offin read,

just lyin

forgotted on

the shelf,

collekin dust

Sittin in

a pool O

Old Blood



in an

old Chair in

an Old House

Thinkin how

Long’ll it

be ‘fore

some-un finds

One Old

Dead Man

who already


years Ago


Greetings, My inQuisitive Imagineers,

My So-journers and Spirit-ed Volunteers,

Consciousness, (and Less), Pioneers.

I am being sincere and,

though it may be unclear,

(and seemingly quite queer)

That I herald a message most severe,

no mere veneer,

but the Austere Premier of Idears!

So listen Closely with those rabbit ears

and Try to Listen close enough to Hear.

It is no joke that with-in you lies

A thousand million Rainbow ties,

Your immaculate,Invincible virgin Mind,

strung to Every particle, from here to the

End of Time!

And listen closely I implore,

for I feel you’ll like what I have in store;

The trick to it, you see,

(and I’m sure you’ll agree)

Is to pluck These Strings and

make them Sing

A song you want to Hear!

And no longer hold old  Reliances

upon the familiar laws of physical sciences,

but rather Unleash

this unreplicated Pastiche

and let the molecules

Therein begin

to strum and spin (even draw

a bow across them, like some atomic violin)

And follow the strings

Farther within

and The deeper you go in,

Encased in a Helix of lines,

Learn to read the rhymes and designs

and become redefined in kind

Until you’ve reached the Imaginarium,

A limitless Inter-Galactic planetarium

Such a Theatre as cannot be Found

Unless you make it right here

Rise out of the ground!

And You, my sweetling,

Are a Cosmic Conducter

of the percussion of a Supernovic Rupture!

And you are the Instructor who sings

and pulls upon the Threads of reality

Beyond the Euphoria of Sexuality,

Waving Hands to Orchestrate

as the Strings

of the Universe Reverberate

To the Music of the Nebula’s you Manipulate!

Symphonic, Harmonic,

Ultrasonic, Euphonic,


Let the instrumental stardust of Ecstasy

Set you Free

You Soothsayers

and Truth-sayers.

Imagineers, Grab a Wand

And make all that you see

What you want it to Be.

The Hunter (and His Trembling Prey)

If I were you,

I’d Slowly back away

and go Back the way

I came.

Wolves can sense Fear,

And You

Are Drenched in it

I Hear it Pulsing in your


And I can Taste it in

your Mouth

And, Let me tell you,

There is Very little

stopping Me

From Tearing out your

Weak, pale Throat

and Gorging on your

Lying Lungs.

To Me, People like


Are Prey.

I Remember The Day

I remember the day

that Washington burned,

And the bloody bits of JFK

still floating in

that Cuban bay

Hey, Hey, LBJ,

How many Kids

Did you Kill today?

Well, what can I say?

I wasn’t there to count ‘em.

Napalm and Vietnam,

and a broken Saigon

and Viet-cahn,

Now President Saddam

and a Hydrogen bomb;


What is it good for?

Look down and be reminded by your stumps

that you Can’t

Stand Up for your rights,

You left your legs in Afghanistan,

Just like your Dad left His in Iran!

Wheres the Taliban? There they are!

In the twisted scalding nails

And bits of metal  in my Entrails!

In the desecrated monuments

And in the Veiled Females!

The Enemy is in my Head,

And if I shoot him Now,

He will be Dead.


Seal me Beneath the Earth

Away from all these People

In a muffled, older, lightless World

Take me under Deeper

to Catacombs untouched by Time

Away from Harm and Life and Rhyme

into a World of quiet Soil

beneath the Roots and Ancient oil

My path takes Me through these places

To Silent Close and Unseen spaces

Where the Oldest spirits Hide their Faces

Following that Hard stone Road

to the Centre of

the World I go

But Do Not try to Follow me

Down this pass no-one can See

and Leave no marker

Nor Grave upon the Surface

I cannot let those Above

know my Delving purpose

for Alone I tread to Darker,

Deeper Secret places

A journey with no Light to guide me

and A Hope no-one will Ever

Find me

So far underground,

There is

No Sound,

No Night or Day

and Here

I lay

at the very core of it all

My existance


and my body fails

Here in this Under-world

of Shadow sages

and Earthen walls

and Stalactite cages

Hidden from the Eye

of everything up High,

it’s here that I lie

Beneath it all,

and then comes that long

Breath’d Sigh

and that final Diamond-Hard


In the Dark

with no way to discern,

To the Dirt

I will Return


What am I waiting for

if the only thing I have left

is this empty


Fucking head?

What am I waiting for

when the very Land

on which I stand

is Dead

And my thoughts and ideas

have all been Bled?

What am I waiting for

when the Ghosts are closing in

and my bleating Heart has fled?

My Mind has Become

an Animal you see,

One I Fear

and It

Fears Me

Give me a Hold

in this sharp and


wall of Rocks,

something that I can grip

and not

Cut Bleed or Slip

for the Fall

is far

into that

Petrifying Mist

and there is No

Coming back

from that black



Storm-Breaker sits

amidst changing lands

Cold gray hands

of Sea-wind and sands

Pass through his hair

and Tear over his fair

Dense, stoic face

In changing Landscape

he remains in place

Mountains fall around him

and dungeons of icy water

seal Shut,

never to be reopened

lost in

Swimming emotions and

the gray of the Ocean’s

perpetual motion

The Storm-Breaker sits

Atop foam-crested throne

He goes alone

in His Ocean home

To meet with Fate




rolls, crests, spills

and his head fills

with the notion

that within this Ocean

there is no Law

and there is no God

But the waves and the wind

and he thinks with a grin,


is my


Masters of the Universe

Let’s make History,

You and I.

Right here, right now,


In this air, these stars,

This Night is ours!

Release these Wolves

and sound the alarms

This Night

is ours.

Take off that Mask to reveal

that beneath it all

Right now is Real.

Fire the guns and

Sunder the Seas!

Be everything you can be

Explode into a Supernova

of Ecstasy,

Colours and Sounds.

Breathe in Eternity

This Night is ours!

No turning back

A headstrong Attack

Challenging Everything you know

After all,

What have I got to show?

Turn to Face


that’s all it takes.

One last Chance,

the dramatic climax,

The deep breathe before the plunge

This is it boys,

One last Lunge.

The institutions of law

Will fall at our feet!

And grovel in submissive defeat

Let’s make history,

you and I

This Night

So we may never die.

This is one for the Books!

They’ll write it down,

And all that it took

was to Burn this Town!

A night to remember

One last time,

So gather your courage

and all you have left,

And pack every fist full

of your last dying breathe

Because Tonight

We own the World

and tonight we will change it

and Life

is the edge of a knife

which the Universe rests on;

and Life

Is what ties us down,

a tether.

But we’ve found

A new way to live


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Summer Nights

Down the path, and through the dunes of sea-grass and growth, past the foxes and crickets and gulls, down to the black beach, down to the Sea. The Moon lights the way, and ghosts are your guide On the quiet path to the Sea. Sand is cool, but the night is warm and alone you see the world in motion, Moon reflecting every motion, Every sound disappearing, caught by ghosts in the summer night, warm breeze lifts you as waves break in the summer night and the sea-grass sways with the wind beneath the stars and the salt-air Crying to the Sea in the summer night Where tears are lost, and ghosts

Are everywhere.


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