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Best Poems Written by Carrington Marshall

Below are the all-time best Carrington Marshall poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Judas Iscariot

Judas Iscariot


Through and through bent and bowed,
your withered heart cries aloud.
Alone oh, so alone!
In tempests darkened blackened soul
I stared, stared unto the night
where broken angels hid from sight.

Was it Satan who offered up
a golden chalice, a golden cup?
So the priests and Judas too
agreed on thirty pieces for the Jew.
As the silver was counted out;
see the Roman soldiers all about.

Now to betray with a kiss,
an ear cut off you’ll never miss.
Poor Peter denied me thrice,
as the cock crows run like mice.
So to the temple Iscariot goes,
seeking justice seeking blows.

Find a tree, ta hang ye by,
broken man soon ta die.
This field of blood know this day,
is where Judas chose ta lay.
Pilate asked a clever ruse,
“Art thou, the king of the Jews?”

Through and through, bent and bowed,
your withered heart cries aloud.
Alone oh, so alone !
In tempests darkened blackened soul
I stared, stared unto the night,
where broken angels hid from sight.

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Poorpoor Casanova

Poor, Poor Casanova



Once in a time,
 in a place known as Umbria.
Spied dist I, oh grand lake!
Trasimeno ,Trasimeno

Twas said,” oh So many roman soldiers 
were slain here in some long forgotten war.”
Unto the waters sleep their bones.

Now on pretty pretty hill
dwells not only serpents,
but wantonness eternal beauty.
She is; all that is woman.

Guarding the castle dwells too,
Mark Antony a cruel large red cat,
commanding four Roman soldiers’ parrots.

There’s graves scattered here about
of those uppity puppity knights,
who desired a little too much amore,
Oh how the great dark gates protect her.

On strange quiet nights listen to the wind
and hear silent, silent whispers
of fabulous Venus.

Amore, amore, amore mio.
Sssshhhh , sssshhhh!
Fools  its Pompio and the rusty crusty parrots.

But I do sigh, for didst I
her very scent didst taste.
Grievous cursed am I  now to follow Cleopatra everywhere.

Thou charming thing
magically turning me unto a Billy goat.
So mournfully falling about a place, Perugia.

For whilst I prance, dance, entrance ye,
Eve dwells on high.
With cruel Mark Antony aside mine heart.

Beware Casanova those mischievous servants,
in beautiful Gethsemane.
Who upon high ancient olive tree, watch ye.

Jealousy is mine only friend
could be mine pathetic end.
Spare me, mourn me,
poor, poor Casanova.

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Benn Gunn

Benn Gunn




Precious alone here I dwell, gently rusting in solitude.
All withered, all quivered, 
 to love you,  if ...   I had half a chance.

 Mine island twould be, could be but paradise.   
 Hey I say! Nay I say!  Its ‘em dead pirates,
 who in mine infernal dreams, search , seek me.

 So, Ben Gunn half a man, became a prophet.
 With rag tag beard,
 talks to himself does he? Does me?
 Fer tis good and mad I be.

 Many many years to sit and stare,
 stare far out to sea.
 Seeking the love of God.
 Fancy I to spy, a sail or snail.

Silver, I hated ‘im, but wish with all mine heart 
a pirate’s heart, all torn black and blue,
the buccaneer was here too.
Oh! T’would be mine friend, like you.

Now tis windy in ‘em hollows
a devil dwells there, wickedness itself.
I’m a feared till morn, fer in mine crusty, rusty dreams,
a one legged man is born.

 When ya mad, ya humble,  and wear a pirate’s hat.
 When ya sad, you’ll stumble,
 watched by the eyes of a large red cat.

 Precious alone here I dwell,  gently rusting in solitude.
 All withered, all quivered.
 to love you,  if ...   I had half a chance.

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Treacle the Dragon

Lanterns held high
deep inside the mountain,
peering through darkness
together we beheld,
oh! Such a slimy pit.
Brother’s I declare,
beware the great dragon, Treacle.
What a jest, Smile heartily,
his treasures our brood seek
like all the rest
Gems, rubies, diamonds and sapphires,
count this abundance until satiated,
could we? would we?
Say enough.
Tears of joy fill mine eyes
for his royal master Slumbers.
The guardian of so great a hoard,
desired by such cumbersome burglars
as you and yours.
But accomplices make haste,
Treacle slumbers.
We who seek to bleach
the dragons bones.
cast the die
Swords, axes drawn.
Standing on the precipice,
wealth our desire.
Then strike, thrust, hack,
kill the beast.
Our blunting steel
sings against his scalley armour.
Oh Horror! awaken now denizen of the deep.
Brothers are we not; from the same womb?
For now our fears behold his majesty.
Would one be pious?
When all hope is lost.
You must robbers face the final cost.
But was it a crime
to dream of Treacles treasure.
Tremble in the muck fellow’s
this is to be the day,
all men fear.
Running, stumbling, crawling
through darkness, only his eyes shone.
Would this; could this be but a dream?
Bow down now to the one
Treacle the Dragon.

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Gabriel

Gabriel



Enter!   Step across the threshold
unto a haunted house.
There’s tricky, tricky vermin here, 
ssshhh !    Tread carefully like a mouse.

Heathens  satyrs ,
bragging lazy waiters,
filthy filthy rats, large red cats.
A bully or two drunk through and through.

But mark me now all these pirates
twould bow down and fall,
begging in front of one
who rules ‘em all.

Gabriel !
A prince in reality
Oh  mighty, mighty  jester,
searching for a flea.

How the ghosts all about
do sit up and stare
if little Gabriel changes unto a bear,
and in a merry muddle  
pisses straight unto a puddle .

Then to ride upon his mare of steel
to some fair isle that isn’t real.
All the maids do love him
cause he dances like a stoat

He’s three feet tall,
six years no more,  master of all
So in this haunted house,
sssshhh!       Tread carefully like a mouse.

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Ghost of Le Moulin

Ghost of Le Moulin



Between Fabrezan to Tournasay 
where the cruel Cers wind blows,
Lie’s maison le Moulin
amongst the wine groves.

Every year on certain night 
you can hear a child calling,
twould cause a fright,
She’s the Ghost of le Moulin.

The villagers all know it
and a man with a gun,
spent the night there
but didn’t he run.

It’s hairy and scary
a mystery to boot,
now I’m a ghost hunter
who’s after some loot.

You can drink pastis
in le Grand cafe
but, disturb a ghost
and you wilt pay.
                                                                                                                                       
Breaking almonds
in a Breton cap,
for sweet nougatine
wilt bait the trap.









With lantern held high 
a crucifix too,
I’ll pray fer the saints
and Jesus the Jew.

Regarde  the Ghost of le Moulin,
pretty girl with evil eyes,
pock marked face
hear her cries....!

“Here’s some rope ta hang ye bye
 silly old man soon ta die,
 I’ll eat ya sweets, wear ya Breton cap,
 I’m the Ghost of Le Moulin”.

Between Fabrezan  to Tournasay
where the cruel Cers wind blows,
Lies maison le Moulin
amongst the wine groves.












Fabrezan,  south of France, October 09

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Attending the Ball of the Dead Accompanied By the Ghost of Rouen

Attending the Ball of the Dead,
Accompanied by the Ghost of Rouen



Who would of guessed your enticing flashing smile;
Ghost of Rouen.
We cut oh! such a dash, swish, splish splash.
Splendid in your gown
fashioned by them riddled by guilt.

Aren’t I the flavour amongst them?
That tells no more tales.
A medium who shares your secrets?
Now hear ye all such fine music,
together hand in hand
 we enter the Ball.

Behold gasping with wonderment
one hundred majestic musicians,
summing up from their desire,
enchantment, careless abandonment.
Arrows were they? whistled past your ears,
 from upright English bows,
 from upright English men.

But now we are set to dance the dance,
as if all time stands still.
What I care this to be the Ball of the dead.
How they chatter and gossip everyone a ghost,
for once bound to the stake
they called you witch.

Pray I ever to seek such contentness
with one such as you, Ghost of Rouen.
Love beckons in this world
nay but the next.
Once a maid in armour now a princess In silken robes.

Spy kings , queens, emperor’s, lords and French barons,
dressed from head to toe in finery.
Mighty armies came and long gone be,
we will dance no more this night,
Ghost of Rouen.

Thank thee, thank aye thank the lord.

What precious times are had?
You with your enticing flashing smile.
Wish me, another invite
 by the Ghost of Rouen to the Ball of the dead.

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Herods Debt

Herod’s Debt


Ive marked ye, clown!
out of tha pack.
Took the solitary road
be bold I whispered.....
“Would not a score of weasels,
beg a rotten tooth, from ya gape?”
So, Herod ye stand watching  always the sharpening of a sword.
That cut, severed the Baptist`s head.
But afore all that luscious gore ta business!
Herod ye owe me, don’t dare deny
mine taste fer vengence .                                                          
Oh! em holy inocents,
remember ....   aye  take yer time,
when  ya  hurly  burly  soldiers  slew, all  em  first  born sons of  tha  Jew.
Oh!  ear em  mothers  wail
I paid  fer  that in banishment.
So through the darkness doust I crawl
now Herod hear, the knocking at  tha door.
Did I not give unto ye Herodias ya  brothers  wife?
Wasn’t she tha bitter queen, and  played  tha  part of tha  joker’s  tart. 
Whose daughter Salome,  danced danced entranced ye.
So arrives on silver platter, mine prize mine desire.
Tha prophet`s head
none more richly honoured such as you
who imprisoned, tortured murdered  tha  Jew.
But now  oh`   Herod, ta  tha  counting  room.
In heavenly chains wilt drag.
Remember remember  thine debt  ta me !
fer,  ta parley, dabble, bibble , babble with a devil.
unto tha  abyss  I  cast  ye.  Begone!......

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The Woman Sira

The woman Sira



So, woulds’t Pan entice me
in a land of beauty, known as Umbria.
With silken surround 
radiating a web of utmost magic.
Oh! wondrous creature.

Men to trip and fall liken children,
who in such fairy tale 
upon hearing music, were captivated.
As in Hamelin to be entranced,
to follow blindly to be bewitched.

Oh! how I desired to hold thy hand,
Oh! how I desired to taste thy lips,
just as the wolf, wilt I await?
To watch silently to gather up all mine cunning.

 For you Sira are indeed, a rare gemstone.
 Accustomed to cast away all curious suitors.
 Now Pan didst cast you up,
 and to offer the cup of such delicious amour.

 All wilt pay a price,
 draw back the facade.
 Gaze now at mine armour and vanish
 forever.....  as one.

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Foreign Devils

Foreign Devils


There’s an Indian
in a Indians world.
As crooked as a walnut tree,
but more devout than you’ll ever be.

I’d love to be a ships captain
sailing o’er the sea,
dwell in eternity,
aside a mermaid.

Here come the unforgiving Englishmen
all dressed up in red coats,
liken little tin soldiers,
come over in boats.

Here the sun burns everything to dust
It’s no place for the righteous or just.
So with clamour, sound your battle horn,
certainly not an invite to tea.

Watch out for Allah, Muhamid too,
lest cut ye all ta pieces,
Stick ye back with glue.
Infidels   

Mine tears are for Moses,
all thine prophets too.
Mine tears are for Abraham,
wasn’t he a Jew?

Heathens sharpen up your  spears.
Wanton harpies tarted up with paint, 
go tell the foreign devils
to pray for their saints.