Staring straight through vivid light
Tangential lines of torrid blue,
Mesmerizing, vivid light
To magnify horizon's hue.

A blaze of pinprick turquoise
Starkly circumscribes the mind
To focus cerebellum's link,
To clearly optimise the find.

Suspended in the nether zone
Floating deep within the air,
Rendered incognito now
As aqua showers rinse the hair.

Beautious recognition here
Of vastness laid before,
In the depth of thought potential
Lying at perception's door.



Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
2 October 2010

Moments of sanity, stark and white
Glistening clarity, clearly bright,
Dreadful slowness bogging down
Head confusion's clogged and brown.

Pulsing pain behind the eye
Ever there, ever dry,
Concentration...How do I?
When this very sky...does fry.

Fight the fight and slug it out
Hold proceedures stolid route,
Step by step with gritted teeth
Despite the liquified... beneath.

Confidence... important toy
Utilize illusions ploy,
Keep the basic image sound,
Keep control's facade well found.

Struggle with the swirling mist
Make the sliding brain persist,
Make each step a simple move
Trust it all just might...improve.

Keep it calm, stay serene
Keep contention squeeky clean,
Take the pills, breath the air,
Another day you might be there?

Hold her close and kiss her hair,
It's her warm strength which blocks despair,
She's the rock that holds me tight
Holds at bay this ******* fright.

Fight the fight and stall for time
Take the pills, appear sublime,
Concentrate as best you can
Wear the strokes ...as history man!


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
25 September 2010

Twer it not for pain endured
Would pleasure not exist?
Twer it not for devilment
Would Godliness persist?

Without the surge of lust in life
Would children not be born?
Without the sound of laughter
Would there not be days forlorne?

How is it that the setting sun
Can bring forth tears of joy?
How is it that a wayward glance
Can join a girl and boy?

What is it in our makeup
That breeds the curse of war?
What weakness in our character
That cirumvents the law?

How is it that from ugliness
A beauty will emerge?
How is it on the tidal flow
That waves do ebb and surge?

What makes this child of human kind
A paradox reversed?
What lays the future out before
As history rehearsed?

How interesting this quandry
That circumscribes a man,
How nebulous the blueprint,
How juxtaposed the plan.


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
25 September 2010

Borne abreast a  Valkerie
Astride the crested steed,
Ascending high to maelstrom
Where fear transcends the greed.

Where the very fire of being
Elevates the spirit's quest
And the steel of high endeavour
Puts all good men to test.

Where the visceral is torture
To the threshold of the strain
In engaging guts and tolerance
To intercept the pain.

So vanquish all the vanities,
Banish all the loud
For the wonder of endeavour
Is what makes we people... Proud!

Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
24 September 2010

A poem for my
Darling daughter,
Robin
..Who turns
Sweet forty two
Today!!

Cigarette smoke whispers, writhing
Silently it tendrils up
From the glowing end in spirals
Pirouettes to cancers' cup.
Nicotine stained fingers tremble
Wrinkled, thin, arthritic claw,
Lips of carmine part to reveal
Yellow dentures gilding jaw.
Bacon breath of sour demeanor
Vacant eyes reflecting strain,
Hacking coughing greeting morning
Light another, **** the pain.
Silently the reaper beckons
Cavernous his grinning maw,
Welcoming the souls entrapped
In stultifying black tar gore.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
14 September 2010

Here I sit amidst the ruin of a white winters' day
Convulsive rain and harsh wind outside, contribute tumult.
And in here, in this small shelter, there is a tension in the air.

We two sit apart, uncommunicative, remote and quite detached.
Not for any reason other than the fact that we are strangers,
We have never met, nor are we ever likely to.
She has an elegance and a stylish angularity whilst I am bald, bearded, unfashionable and somewhat overweight.
She is singularly indifferent to my presence, whilst I am uncomfortable with the circumstance that placed us in this small proximity.
We would, in truth, rather both be elsewhere.

I break the ice in throwing her a small smile and complain about the weather,
Her eyes flick across my face and immediately resume their distant focus on the rain,
She adjusts her seating to face,ever so slightly, askance.
Her choice of course, to assume an air of indifference or superiority...or adopt a measure of defence..or perhaps a combination of a bit all three.  
Regardless... I wipe my backside in exactly the same manner as does she, I  am definitely no less a person for my dumpy demeanour and friendly overture
And I really feel that I don't have to share my space with coldness and impertinance,
Better, I think, to be wet and content with my own company
..So, donning my cap and jacket, I stride out into the deluge to leave the remote and uncommunicative young woman alone and dry with her thoughts.

And then....
Howling rain and shards of wind
Pelt me as I walk
Along the foreshore wild and white
As hovered seagulls squark.
When all at once she's by my side
Walking pace for pace,
Her linen suit a sodden mess
Hair plastered to her face.

"Thought I ought to make it right"
She told me with a smile
I threw my coat upon her back
And walked another mile.
We called into a coffee shop
And sat down by the fire
And sipped a steaming latte
As she told her story dire,

"The cancer's all but killed me
My husband's left the home,
The baby's gone to mother
And I'm facing death alone."
We quietly spoke for ages
I held her hand in mine
Then suddenly she stood to leave
And thanked me for my time.

I sat there in a stupor
Recalling how it played
And felt the guilt impact on me
For judgements I had made.
Those callow, shallow judgements
Made in ignorance, my friend,
Will haunt me as she girds herself
To boldly meet her end.

Marshalg
On a bleak and blustery cold winters day.
Titirangi
5th September 2010

Dante’s dance of death arrives
Sparrows take to air
And massive nimbo-cumulous
Soar to lightnings vivid flare.
The final page is almost read
Incredulous am I
That Lady Luck has touched my soul
Allowing me to cry.

To watch a scarlet sunset sink
Into a sea of green
And feel the chill of evening stroke
My mortal fascade’s sheen.
Cavorting fillies canter
In blue nightfall’s velvet pall
Whilst the crystal tones of crispness
Peal from distant blackbird's call.

The magnificence of feeling
Permeates my very soul
And the factored life impermanence
Magnifies the spirit’s hold.
A sensate wave of gladness
Washes over all I see
And the brilliant joy of being
Lifts the fear of death from me.

Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
21 August 2010

Rush around in circles like a headless chicken running
Diminishing to spirals in a blue encircled churn
Giddying to balance in unsteady equilibrium,
Whilst canting to the left on a gyroscopic turn.

Vaulting to the heavens in gymnastical maneuvering,
Launching into ether in fanatical escape,
****** features grimacing through muscular contortion
With abdominal contractions in a pantomime of ****.

Yowling to the darkness in a feline form of vocalness
Hissing through the teeth in a serpentine display,
Bellowing the bellicose of bovine innuendo
And bleeding feet in gumboots on a ****** raining day.

Rush around in circles like a headless chicken running
With ****** features grimaced on a ****** raining day,
Yowling to the darkness with abdominal contraction
In a bovine innuendo of a serpentine display.

Bellowing the bellicose of bleeding feet in gumboots,
Vaulting to the heavens in fanatical escape,
Giddying to spirals in contracting equilibrium
Just a ****** innuendo of a gyroscopic shake.


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
On a ****** raining day.
7 August 2010

Words of the masses are gathered in galleries,
Verbage is gathered in cloistering mass.
Masses are gathering to cloister their verbage
Where verbage is cloistered for masses to stash.

Nursing the words from a mind full of passion,
Coaxing the phrases to render them bold.
Weilding the pen with theatrical flourish
Hoping to God inspiration takes hold.

Legions of letters lie waiting in folders
Waiting for praise to hold up it's hand,
Begging acclaim from occasional perusal
To seeking the fame of a publishers' brand.

Passion and pain are an artists' portfolio
Ego and talent are held presupposed,
Preposterousness is taken for granted
But nil recognition gets right up the nose.

Gnashing of teeth and fingernail chewing
Coincide with a confidence fall
But the ultimate down in a work hard done
Is to have your peers ignoring it all.

A kernal grows from fleeting feelings
Inspiration holds the thought,
A thing of grandeur pens to greatness
Breathlessly... a script is wrought.

Dancing fingers grace the keyboard
Lilting music fills the air,
A wordsmith's touch of rich creation
Links the literate portrait's flair.

There tis done.. A thing of beauty
Silently I sit and stare,
Wordlessly, I thank the Heavens
Art is wrought and art is there.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
1 August 2010

******* air to burning lungs
Clawing hands to slippery rungs,
Pumping tendons stretched to snap
Fleeing footfalls echo back,
Panicked souls in fearful plight
Plunging forth to darkened flight.

Running hard these heavy feet
Sprint away from whence fears meet,
Fear of blackness, fear of pain
Flee from black fears’ leaden bane,
Run to where the white light plays
Curl to hide from fears’ dank craze.

Whites of eyes and matted hair
Clenched in sweating frights’ despair,
Know that fear is hunting now
Searing panics' sodden brow,
Scatter far in disarray
As shames' sly hand slides in to play.


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
31 July 2010

Catch the motes of dust in light
To feel the threads of time suspend,
In serenade of life’s allure
Where precious moments never end.

Silver tears run down the cheek
In swift departures curled embrace,
Poingnancy for moments few
Of entwined limbs and whiskered face.

Separations loneliness
In gnawing of the very soul,
The wish for time to dissipate
To make the separate halves a whole.

Anticipation’s rawness now
Throws arrowed light to early shroud,
The eagerness to touch and kiss
Brings clear blue sky to morning cloud.

Rationalize the wonderment
Of slender fingers through your hair,
In fantasy of sheer delight
Her silhouette reflected there.

Hold the tantalizing heat
Of tender fires of passion bound
In throngs of longing, deeply felt,
Within the belly’s tufted mound

Exhaustion in the tangled sheet
As bands of sunlight kiss your hair,
Gently now, in drifted sleep
And gales of pleasure fill the air.

Catch the motes of dust in light
To feel the threads of time suspend
In serenade of life’s allure
Where precious moments never end.


Marshalg
Victoria Park tunnel
Auckland
24 July 2010

Moments fly and phrases die
Like thistledown in breeze,
Creativeness evades
The minds capacity to seize.
Shadows of vast portraiture
Do beckon from within
Just to dissipate like gossamer
When almost penciled in.
Sequences of magnitude
Dissolve upon the lips
And laughter’s spontaneity dies
As vapoured humour slips.
To fancy pearls of rapture
Emanating from the brain
Would tax ones capacity
To ever fantasize for fame.
Frustrations of the frantic day
Those rushing points of call
Where interruptions, interrupt
In fleeting moments all,
Where focusing, just shatters
In the face of crass demand
Where inspiration’s stillborn babes
Are delivered cold to hand.
Tragic are the losses
To the mortified’s dry pen
And jubilantly, Satyrs claw
Creations’ prize …to them.

Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
28 June 2010

Poured upon the coldest plate
Sensations I have felt of late,
Oozing out in rhyme so thin
To slit betwixt the blood and skin,
Feelings I can best describe
As mothers’ milk in ostrich hide.
Feeling I can best project
As crystal **** wrote circumspect.

Turgid as the wrath in waves
I feel my very soul depraves
The values held within my breast,
The turbulence portrayed at best
As damnable as purple ink
With oiliness of olive stink.
This malady is best described
As mothers’ milk in ostrich hide.

Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
24 June 2010

Is it really any wonder
That we court the God of war ?
When a man offends in innocence
With imprudent comments poor,
When the slightest altercation
Leads to seeking of red blood,
And grudges borne with vehemence
Paste protagonists with mud.

Why is it that we tip toe
Through the fragileness of life ?
How is it that you rage
When he glances at your wife ?
What generates the jealousy
Of competitive bright flame
And activates the trigger
In the deadly baiting game ?

Why should we seek redemption
When the way is set in stone,
When antagonistic temperament
Is the customary way home,
When the flare of angry attitude
Leads the bearer to abyss
And inevitable conflict
Throws all reasoned thought amiss ?.

Reflect on how protracted
Is the winding road to love,
How long to place the building blocks
Of friendships’ hand in glove,
How gradual the process
Of steady cultivating trust
To the wondrous actuality
Of a brother bond that must.

Why does the God of war surmount
Mans best and dearest quest
To find a peace and harmony
Despite discords’ very best,
To live his days in certitude
Sidestepping risk of harm
To work toward tomorrows’ dawn,
And evening’s soothing charm.

Shatter prides absurdity
To dare to breach the norm,
To reach aloft for courage
And scale the unknown’s form.
To rail against mans’ enmity
To flail against his foe
To conquer human natures‘ worst
This beast of war must go!

Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
21 June 2010

Cordon off the tombstone Nellie
Hide your spleen from sight,
Render clean the history Nellie
Make it all seem right.

Remember well your anger Nellie
How you stabbed so hard,
And buried deep your nemesis
Beneath the dunghill yard.

Wash your hands of blood my Darling
Rinse your eyes of bile,
Knowing that forgetfulness
Will help you for a while.

Tally up the score my Nellie
For bleak as it may seem,
Much lesser men have won at court
With margins half as keen.

Saddened eyes are weeping Nellie
They called you to account,
Rough rope at dawn around your throat
At yonder wooded mount

Call the baying hounds in Nellie
Tether them up tight,
For misery’s afoot with gallows
Trudging into sight.

Watch the darkness fade so softly
Bask in rising sun,
Savour these, your last sensation,
Now your time is done.

It’s tantamount to crying Nellie
Prone there as you lie,
Grey locks awry in meadow green
As brilliant blue eyes die.

Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
12 June 2010

The meek and mild
Have much within
To touch eternal
Neutral’s  whim,
To walk in step
With time’s embrace
And court  emotion’s
Unlined face.
To enter contracts
Soft and slow
Where stronger mortals
Will not go.
To savour life
In bland relief
Avoiding
Competition’s greif.
To throw the race
Before begun
And glide beneath
A duller sun.
Accept  restraint’s
restricted prize
Contentment
Sealed in compromise.


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
Auckland
26 May 2010

So generous, thou, in reticence,
To caste my cares adrift,
Wondrous diffidence displayed
In judging, now, this slight wind shift.
That tender touched acidity
In holding back thy scything hand,
But a lancing of my sentiments
Despite concessions planned.

Bloodstain on the balcony
Grey torment in the mind
To miss the symptoms here, my friend,
Those blue eye's would be blind,
To wade in waters visceral
Whilst smiling to the face
Suggests a mind incapable
Of compassion's gentle pace.

Let waters flow beneath the bridge
Let time caress the soul,
Let detail's mass minutiae
Bury ruffled thoughts of old
But recall the blatant treachery,
Keep keen that secret blade
To exercise your perogative to
Put right the ****** wrongs made.

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
22 May 2010

Have you wondered how tomorrow looks
When you've lied about today ?
Have you squandered opportunities
When you've refused to play ?
Have you sought the possibilities ?
Have you broken through the ruse ?
Have you shed your limitations
And tried to fill some bigger shoes ?


Will you spread your wings to fly
Across the chasm in your life ?
Have you shared your closest fears
With the one you call your wife ?
Do you long to break the mold
And try to start the day afresh ?
Is there courage there to stride out,
Have you the will to make it mesh ?


Is there a shade of self deception,
Is a colour bar installed ?
Are there feelings of inadequacy
Has your darling not yet called ?
Does your flacid nature falter
When pinned against the wall ?
Have you moments of reluctance
To recall it all, at all ?


Does it all really matter
That your world is locked within,
That the things which hold you back
Are simply things you revel in ?
That the greatest limitations
Are the ones you self impose,
That the key which locks the door
Is locked outside the door you close ?


Marshalg
reflecting@theBach
Mangere Bridge
28 July 2009

Burnt umber in the morning
As the planets do align,
Ominously holding
To the Zodiac design,
Reminding us that somewhere
In the Bible, it was said,
That by the twelfth year of this century
Whole populations would be dead.

They say it is upon us
Those children of the moon,
They say the fingers of our destiny
Shall fall upon us soon.
Calamitous catastrophe
To befall the western world
That fiscal debt implosion
Will result with fraud unfurled,

When abnormal plate subduction
Along the continent's divide
Will magnify the earthquake swarm  
Across the planet's hide.
When enormous ring tsunamis
Emanate from deep at sea
To cascade onto shorelines
To wreak extreme calamity.

Across the globe, Astrologist's,  
Say something huge is due.
Their whispers quietly amplified
To percolate to you.
What little can be done or said
It's very hard to say
Because authorities worldwide
Refuse to recognize this day,
They won't readily acknowledge
Those symptoms verily to hand,
The frequent natural disasters
Occurring in each land.

Contagion is  contagious
The whispers may be wrong,
Perhaps the future holds for us
A vastly different song,
But when the moon is full and white
And I look into her face,
I discern a bleak anxiety
Destined for the human race
I see mother nature poised
To take the heavy, upper hand
With an implacable demeanor
And un empathetic stand.

Burnt umber in the morning
As the planets do align,
Ominously holding
To the Zodiac design,
Reminding us that somewhere
In the Bible, it was said,
That by the twelfth year of this century
Whole populations would be dead.


Marshalg
@theBach
In the cold moonlight
20 May 2010

Winds blow,
Reeds bend,
Coriolis force
Will lend
Momentum
To dispersed
White seed
Which, caste aloft,
Doth spread
And breed
Young reeds anew
On distant lake
For wind
To whip
And bend
And break.

Run ragged in moments
Of exhaustive length,
Frantic in metophores
Bewildering strength,
Blinded when critics
Weild axes of death
And asphyxiate quick
In the absence of breath.
Atonement for platitudes
Laid in the path
Of keepers of virtue
Who knew how to laugh
And agreement in principle,
Patterned or plain,
For doing the damage
And shouldering blame.

Marshalg
@theCoalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
13 May 2010

Warm orange is my love
As the heart of a flame from within
The deep black embers of a glowing log at night.

Brilliant blue, as the midday sky
When it’s hot, yet fresh, are my eyes
When they glean a flash of moist, white smile
In your happiness.

The spangle of rainbow tang
As a pinprick of candle light
Erupts in tiny brilliance…
In a tear suspended from one fine eyelash.

Golden green and amber
Is my happiness in this love…

But my passion is crimson.

And yellow daisies in a green field
For simplicity?

Marshalg
Albury
9.45pm March 28 1969

The highs and lows of living life
Occur in sweeping loops
The ups and downs of everything
Are determined by the groups
Of numbers as they glide
Across a digital display,
In  rendering the parabolas
Of this game of life we play.


The winning runs of business
A sweet windfall of cash
Temptation to extend that deal
Beyond …is perhaps rash;
It may just tip the balance
Commence the start of the decline
And your parabolic plunge
Will see you quailing to divine.


How you claw your way to solvency
You sweat to make it right,
How you battle tax malignancy
To surmount official might.
The administrative penchants
Of administrative types
Who insist on crossing every “T”
And switching “OUT” the lights.



Having made it, you sit astride the top
And bask in shining light.
You cast off the cloak of caution,
Claim success as yours by right.
But by morning there’s a thunderstorm
A headache and a snag,
By lunch evicted on the street
With your belongings in a bag.



The ups and downs of life my friend
Are a parabolic coast
One day you’re sitting pretty
The next day you are toast.
The only consolation
Of this constant change of state
Is the reconstructive challenge
In re-determining your fate.



So gird yourself my beauty
Hitch your belt another notch
And launch yourself at living
Before you seek that midnight watch.
For tomorrow is a mystery
The possibilities are vast
And paradoxically speaking
The very best is usually last.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
20th July 2008

As I lay beside my darling
On an early Sunday morn,
I could feel her rounded softness
Sleeping under blankets warm.
My mind caroused the memories
And loitered on it's way
And found itself deliciously,
Immersed in golden play.

I remembered something special
In the way my little boy would look
As his eyes rose up in wonderment
When I read  his favorite book.
And the joy involved in feeding
A hungry little mouth
When the porridge spooned all over
From the eyebrows heading south.

A tantalizing moment
On the beach down by the sea,
In the warm December sunshine
With my happy family.
We were running in the black sand
Drawing circles with a stick
As the surging waves approached them
Laughing little boys were quick.

Laughing, happy moments
And some sad ones like the day
When dear old Meg, our Labrador,
Got sick and passed away.
Young Boaz in his sadness
Climbed the big tree to it's crown
And it took a lot of pleading
To persuade him to come down.

And young Solly played the taniwha
At the Cornwall Park school play
And a better taniwha has yet
To grace the stage today.
A natural in his element
This young comedian
So hilariously funny
As he drew the audience in.

The tender, loving moments
As we both strolled arm in arm
Through the verdant Ferntree Gully
With it's sunlit grace and charm.
And the towering eucalyptus,
Hanging wood smoke in the air
And the whiplash resonation
Of the lyrebird hidden there.

Of Buttercup's wild parties
When fancy dress was king,
When everyone would whoop it up
And laugh and dance and sing.
When mum's and dad's and little kids
All joined the happy throng
With  spud mashing as a ceremony
And a night of fun and song.

Of sitting in the garden
With your feet up and a book
And a cold beer at your elbow
And a barbecue to cook.
With the easy feel of family
As they go about their day
And the joyous sound of summer
When two noisy tui's play.

Memories of yesterday
Moments in the life
Of ecstasy and agony
And wonderment and plight.
And the ordinary ness of everything
And the magic everywhere,
Like the auburn in the sunlight
As it strikes my darling's hair.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
10 October 2009

Portrayed in an artiface
Of long and grey rhymes
Replayed in a video
Of really bad lines
Lost in a tangency
Of bitumen and brick
Tangled in quagmire
Of cigarettes and sick.

Lurching through life
In yesterdays clothes,
Acting the part
That nobody knows,
Chic desperation
Apparent to all
With the certainty
She’s for a terrible fall.

Miasma of moods
Through a *****, blue haze,
Insulting a friend
In an instant of craze,
Sprawled on the street
In a leopard skin skirt,
Makeup awry
Broken nails in the dirt.

Screaming abuse
To the well meaning hand,
Lost, alone
In a drug ridden land,
Fearful of shadows
And clinging to those
Who lustfully use
To so casually dispose.

Blond hair falling
Down over her face
Mascara running
In smears of disgrace,
It’s dangerous to stagger
Through traffic in rain
With lost high heel,
Tear streaked in pain.

Vagrants for company
Hunched in a cell,
Shivering cold
And ****** to hell
In a moment of clarity
And startlingly clear,
A small shimmering hope
Lies so distantly near.


Marshalg
@theCoalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
8th May 2010

It's unfortunate that Parisians
Are very hard to bear,
In terms of flash obsequiousity,
They drive me to despair!
And patience is an attribute
I don't profess to have
To mercifully administer
When accents veer to Slav.

Baltics look like jellyfish,
The Germans are obscene
And loud and overbearing
But the Swiss are very clean.
Italians are a swarthy lot
Who gourmandize on food
And sacrifice their suavity
By being impudently crude.
The Spanish are no better,
In fact they are probably worse,
For obsessing in the blood sports
I actually rate them in reverse.

Starchiness is British
They're convoluted to the core,
The Old Boy system's lost it's sheen
Aspirants flock to it no more.
The Yanks are looking slightly crass
Whilst fighting foreign wars,
Their pinky held up squeaky clean
To call "foul" to China's flaws.
China sits inscrutably
Holding all the cards
Waiting for the moment
To strike beneath the guards.

India and Pakistan
Are squabbling like kids
The uproar over Kashmir
Rates them lower than the Yids.
The Yids are walking tightropes
With Iran's nuclear ******,
Whilst currying Yank approval,
Eventual bombing is a must.
The Dutch behave so anally
They're always proven right
When faced with rigid negatives
They blanch with haunches tight.

But not the Argentineans
They love to dance and flirt,
To chase the senorita
Cavorting in the scarlet skirt.
The South Pacific's wallowing
They're adrift from World affairs
Oz's self preoccupation
Mirrors Kiwi's vacant stares.
Africa's way past comment
Lost to heat and dust,
Warfare, **** and pillage
And the rest decayed by rust.

Eskimos are OK
Clean living on the ice
The population static,
Zer-O pollution's nice!

Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
14 April 2009

It’s paramount the notion
That men are born to grow,
Extend their creativity,
Expand the very best they know.
Explore the realm unseen before
Beyond their very reach,
Inflate the mind’s potential
To absorb and grasp and preach.
To plunder flair unrealized
Extend skills unperceived,
To craft a very masterpiece
Of magnificence, unbelieved.
To raise the spire of excellence
To sculpt a work of art,
Compose a peice which scintillates
And moves the very heart.
To reach beyond the mortal
And let the spirit free
To pen a Michelangelo
And have God sit with me.


Marshalg
@the Coalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
30 April 2010

Why is it so, Oh why is it so
That the owners of capital
Inevitably grow
To be possessors of everything
Strategically placed,
Solidly, tangibly
Gunmetal faced?

Owners of newspapers
Head of TV,
Masters of radio
Commercial and free.
Dispensers of policy
Spreaders of gloss,
Keep movers informed
Keep fools at a loss.

Like a puppeteer General
Manipulate strings
Of artillery thunder
And stratosphere wings.
Subliminal ownership
Military wise
Guarantees power
And fortifies ties.

Holding the cards
In Congressional spheres
Ensures positive influence
To leadership ears.
Holding sway
In the ship of state
Commands control
Of those who rate.

Power to publish,
Power to spin,
Manipulative power
To politically win.
Power to generate
Mountains of wealth,
Marauding powers
Of infinite stealth.

Solidly, tangibly
Gunmetal faced,
Owners of capital
Strategically placed.
Controllers of influence
Puller of strings,
Powerful Anchors
...Societal Kings.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
23 March 2009

I’m squatting alone on the step here
Thinking of things oblique,
The pictures flash by
Like the clouds in the sky
I’d rather, in truth, be asleep.
The jumble of thoughts are confusing
The tangle of pictures unclear,
A good moody pout
May just sort it all out
But I fear it will end with a tear.

Bad memories are clouding my judgement
Extracting the saneness away
Cold tensions exude & the dark thoughts intrude
And sweet harmony deserts the day.
The nimbus comes rumbling inward
The lightning flashes are sharp
The tempest in my composure
Makes me long to retreat to my heart.

Once the maelstrom’s down apon you
There’s no going back for a breath,
You just hang on like hell
& keep ringing that bell,
And you fight like a tiger to death.
You must gather defences around you
And muster your forces at best,
For the enemy’s here, it’s intentions are clear
And you’re in for a formidable test.

The scarlet slash of malice,
The grinding guilt of sin.
The searing green of envy..
That’s where it does begin.
You bite your lip, you taste the blood,
You clench your fist so tight
You thrash and pound that wretched sound
From whence doth come your plight.
You slip aside so gracefully
Your moves have guile and poise,
You strike with stealth & venom
Completely void of noise.
Endurance is your friend this eve
You’ve got the upper hand.
Just keep your boot upon it’s throat
And win you will.. My man!

From just beyond dark thunder mass
A peep of sunshine beams,
It radiates the sated land,
Reflects from bubbling streams.
The emerald green of grasses
Refract the golden light
The clouds are clearing rapidly
As daylight turns to night.
The sparrows in the hedge are still,
Bright stars begin to shine.
You blink your eyes and shake your head
The water turns to wine.

Oh thought… You are a fickle thing
Mercurial and lithe.
You elevate preposterousness
And take the devil’s side.
You scale the heights and plunge the depths
Without so much as pause,
You hold me in your silk caress
And then apply sharp claws.
The surge of wild excitement
When a line of verse spins in
And the turgid sloth of nothingness
When boredom seeps within.

Why is it so.. This up, this down…
So frivolous for thee
When all, in fact, you do achieve
Is dark torment for me.

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
30th December 2007

Blue haze is in the air at dusk
Wet dew descends on grass,
Sunset’s red striations touch
Horizon’s clouds of glass
A heavy silence permeates
With the settling of the day,
And clouds of starlings flock to roost
With nightfall underway.
The homestead paddock’s horses
All graze quietly in the gloom
As evening light turns purple red
To a distant blackbird’s tune.
A golden leafage carpetry
Is spread across the road
And the farmer trudges through it
homeward bound, beneath his load.
The cottage lights are glowing gold
As daylight dwindles now.
The softly spiraled chimney smoke,
The lowing of the cow,
The leafless alder branches
Stretching to a sky of stars
As the chill of late Autumnal
Celebrates the birth of Mars.


Marshalg
In the Autumn leaves
Victoria Park Tunnel
24 April 2010

Howling Gale of Winter moment
Blossom pink from cherry tree,
Driving snow which blankets all
Hot Summer sunset glows for me.
Parched and hassled hens in shadow
Scratch the sand to find the cool,
Starkly solid ice in blueness
White and freezing skating pool.
Green and turquoise in the sunlight
Brilliant hills of verdant shawl,
Autumn tones cascade in colour
Silently the dry leaves fall.
Surging surf parades the beaches
Roiling up the shelly sands,
Lightning strike on green pine reaches
Baking sunshine warms and tans.
Windswept on the dry Sahara
Silently the tree ferns drip,
Alpine streamlets splash in torrent
Hot and parched dry grasses flick.
Honeyed scent in orange blossom
Fills the morning air with bees,
Pollen on the air carousing
Noses twitch and often sneeze.
Globally the seasons vary
Hemispheres of colour thrown,
Glorious in shade and texture
Flavoured by aroma’s own.
All enticing motes of pleasure
Each engaging jolts of joy,
Layerings of seasonal treasure
Mother earth’s artistic ploy.

Marshalg
@theCoalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
13 April 2010

Contrary to what is known
About Tunguska’s hellish blast,
Contrary to all the dread
Engendered in those deeds of past,
Despite the anger close at hand
When loathsome fiends encroach thy space,
Regardless of the fury felt
When malcontents spit in your face.

Go gather up your fortitude
Hold all that’s dear, close to your chest,
Contain the beast you’ve locked within
Adjust till you’ve maneuvered best.

Then….
Unleash the very gates of hell
To vanquish those who would intrude,
Break the carapace of blood.
Then stay thy hand, preserve the crude
For them to agonise, reflectively,
Decisions made too cheap
And actions, injudiciously,
Commited indiscreet.



Marshalg
@theCoalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
7 April 2010

So what about it all my friend ?
Has life smiled upon your face?
Do you feel the warming emanate
From within the planet’s  grace?
Has chance played a fruitful hand to you
In lady luck’s cruel whim ?
Has mercy touched your Devil’s side
When you’ve clashed horns with him?

Did something hold you back that night
When anger splashed its bile,
Across your pale and youthful brow
Across your jaws profile ?
What contained reaction so?
How did you stay composed,
When all around was turmoil
And reason lay deposed ?

What brought a small smile to your face,
A sparkle to your eye ?
How could you see the innocence
In this blackness called a lie ?
What is it in your make up
Which promulgates your best
When others will capitulate
To fail the crucial test ?

Why is it that you stand so tall
Among the mottled crowd ?
Do you realize your influence
In making we, around you, proud ?
Is the weight of our dependence
A  millstone round your neck ?
Or do you take it all within your stride
And grin and…What the heck ?

Do you recognize your leadership,
How you wear this mantle well ?
Dare you hold the flame aloft for us
To strive under your spell ?
Will you wear this robe of Kingship ?
Will you steer our ship of state ?
…For should you guide us to tomorrow
We can tomorrow’s burdens break.

Marshalg
@theCoalface  
Victoria Park Tunnel
10 April 2010

Tangentially the Easter thing
Is lost to most at large.
Hot cross buns and chocolate eggs
And sleep in’s lead the charge
To  a relaxed, lazy holiday
Spent down by the beach,
With a shady spot, a novel
And a cold pint within reach.

Diminished are the heavy tomes,
Forgotten are the lobes
Of red religiosity’s
Ancient Catholic robes.
Christ is relegated
To the dusty shelves of past
And the priesthood, in reality,
Knew the ruse would never last.

The spangle of the modern world
The instant-ness of now,
The charging pace of living
Paint  the GET God’s Holy cow.
The sacrements, the sacrifice
The Cross atop the peak
Are lost to relegation
And of this, we shall not speak.

Just bathe yourself in sunshine
Relax in balmy air,
Enjoy the feel of Easter
With the laughter everywhere.
With the little children munching
On their gaudy chocolate feast
And the distant sound of church bells
…Reminiscent, in the east.

Marshalg
@the Coalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
Good Friday, 2nd April 2010

Cross legged in the sauna heat
We speak about the things
Which impact on our daily lives
And pull the old heart strings.
Lifting threads of humanity
To hold them in the hand.
Feel the mellow toned viola
Evoke hot tears, unplanned.
And a little boy laughs
As he wags to and fro
Before the stainless steel
Six by four's reflective flow.
An old friend retrieved
From the shelves of distrust,
Reconciled thankfully
From time's portals of dust.
Oh,the sweetness of sharing
A sweaty faced smile
In the company of Ivy
Cross legged awhile.


Marshalg
@theBatch
Mangere Bridge
16 August 2009

Blue light hangs in calm atone
Evening peace sings in the air,
Daylight'******has fled the sky
A velvet softness holding there.

Shades of evening blend together
Hues of gold and green and blue,
Curtain call to night descending
Dark magenta's pristine hue.

Chilly as the cloak envelopes
Reaching down to smother light,
Stubbornly a glow resists
To hold horizon's remnant fight.

Suddenly the day is gone
The dancing colours are no more,
Death's companion fills the sky
And distant diamonds conjure awe.

Marshalg
@the Coalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
27 March 2010

Today we have few heroes
Few live the life of Kings,
Few go the extra mile to win
The wondrous praise it brings.
Most walk the path of averageness
Most strive to play it safe,
Where convention glides to keynote
And contention is a waif.

Nobody pulls the dragon's tail
Nobody stretches out,
To walk in shoes of restlesness,
And lash the Devil's gout.
Nobody grasps the horns of hell
To cast care to the wind,
Nobody sticks their neck out
Making ego's soar rescind.

Why do we lie in fallow turf
Where textures are so bland?
Why do we slouch in listlessness
Each idle hand, in hand?
Where is the pluck and passion
Which allows our pulse to flail?
Go find the guts and courage
....TO YANK THAT DEMON DRAGON'S TAIL!

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
21 March 2010

Dedicated with love to my youngest fledgling, Solomon, who is venturing forth in his first business.

  Torn by the words of carnal foolsLost in seas of filthy thought,Confused by those who slease away And mindlessly contribute nought.Bouncing back and forth the banterWinning points imagined soSubstanceless determined byThe vacuum shown in what they know.How they bruise that thin veneerThe pride, the love, the passion spentIn forging words and sequencesWhich elevate the soul's intent.To wallow in a pool of mireTo lose the grip of good restraintTo demonstrate for all to seeThat worthyness they claim.....just aint !! Marshalg@theBachMangere Bridge1 March 2010

What would it be to be a soldierTo seek the God of war,To make your mind a death machineTo long for peace no more.To make your sinew hard as ironYour muscle ripcord tough,To bend your thinking mercy freeYour soul enshrined in rough.Conformity in dress attireMeticulous black shine,The gun oil on your sidearmThat rigid stance in line.The taughtness when you march en massThe crunch of boots on stone,The flash of steel with bayonet thrustThat splash of blood on bone. Your hatred for the enemyA lust for ****** war,Abhorrence for a personal styleJust compliance with the corps.The stare that sees a thousand yardsThe spines are ramrod straight,The disciplined magnificenceThe Corps d’Esprit is great! Afghanistan & GazaMogadishu and TehranThe terror strips are globalAnd they’re hell for beast and man.To imagine you’ll enjoy yourselfIs madness to extreme.If you’ve seen a man's face liquefyIn a flailing shrapnel stream.If you’ve felt the fear of God nearbyWhen tribals mount a charge,With the shriek of “Allah Ahkbar”And the stench of death at large. “See The World”, the poster said“Free Training for a Trade”,Develop stiffness in your spineWith the army you’ll be made.Comradeship, companionshipIs the essence of the force,A fast, pack march of twenty clicksAnd chanting till you’re hoarse.The Sergeant kicks your backsideThe corporal licks your boots,Lieutenant has you dodging leadWhist digging trenching routes.The Major trims his moustacheThe General drives right past,Dismissing all the riffraffWho are well beneath his class. This-is-the-Army All khaki and brassy shine,You get to brandish riflesAnd wear berets when in line.So pull that chin in soldierKeep the thumbs straight when you march,Or we’ll have you peeling spuds or worse,...We’ll ream your young white ****. You wanted to be manlyYou longed to make your mark,You signed up  to be countedNow you're Army, hard and stark.So give it all you’ve got young manBend your back and be a knave,the alternative is purgatoryEngulfed, consumed, enslaved.Now you're in for the durationMake the most of what you’ve gotOr they’ll Court Marshal you tomorrowAnd with pageantry.. YOU'LL BE SHOT!MarshalgMangere Bridge27th April 2008

A stranger in a coffee shopOne never knows the types who stopTo sip the ancient brewTo sit and launch a little chatincurrs a risk that leaves one atthe mercy of a stranger. Conversations open up,a world of views, life does eruptin complex tangents, mixed and freea stimulant.. thoughts symphony I met her there quite old, yet brighta living actress, uncontrite,accepting fate with earthy trim,enjoying life’s relentless whim. She told her tales of joy and woeI loved it. When I left to goI wondered if she realised thenthat in this man she’d found a friend.Marshalg / Auckland / 1969

Furtive in this Winter air
We watch a pale life hover there
Suspended by some hope defined
By gossamers so unrefined,
A silky substance floating by
Like spider web in azure sky.

We watch a pale life hover there
In freezing air, in sad despair,
The **** frost down on frozen ground
Reflecting hopelessness profound,
Saw lost eyes in a careless world
...But turned away as day unfurled.

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
20 February 2010

******* Bandit time is lost
A gone forever shroud,
Elusive as an errant fog
That’s slipped into a cloud.
Elusive as a crystal shard
Mixed secretly with sand,
You know the shard’s apparent
When It lacerates your hand.


Time lacerates your senses
Like sand between the toes,
It’s there and then it vanishes
Like vapored mist it flows.
Insidiously sneaky
In the way it sidles up
And gallops past like mercury,
Frustration's heady cup.


Were there ways to vanquish time
To pause it in limbo,
I would celebrate with agelessness
And a glass of fine merlot.
I would savour every nuance
And roll it on my tongue
For the taste of piquant victory
Is a toast to battle won.


Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
19th January 2009

Deep sleep or slumber,
Function ability’s number
Have confidence with humility,
Use pride’s tool,servility.
Know when to jump and when to run,
When to sprint to beat the gun.
When to harbour, when to fight.
The time to judge indulgence right.
Courage or audacity,
Lock it in or set it free.
Options all which set the tone
Hit the balance, drive it home.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
11 May 2009

There's sweetness in the crisp of morning
There's promise at the start of day,
Bird song in the trees about me
Heralds life and all's OK !
Howling down the hill on cycle
Feel the blast of wind on face
Give a yell of joy for living
Age on bike and bike at pace!
Sunshine falls upon the meadow
Flowers bobbing in the breeze,
Pukekos with tails a-bouncing
Sheep graze on with studied ease.
Spraying gravel in my corners
Pedals pump as fast as can,
Huffing, puffing, loving morning
"Hello" to a jogging man.
Wheel the bike around the corner
Grind these pedals up the hills
Winding down to see the shore birds
Flock to land with squarking bills.
Young girls laughing, dark eyes dancing
Striding down the foreshore track,
Fresh loveliness in lycra shorts,
They laugh and wave, I wave right back.
Happiness in brilliant morning
Cycling to a sweaty stop,
Relaxing under shady awning
Love my favourite coffee shop.

Marshalg
@the estuary
Mangere Bridge
13 February 2010

There's a well of disappointment
In observing human nature,
For regardless of the colour,
The religion or the creed;
There's a metabolic failure
Apparent in the makeup,
And it's all about ego
And materialistic greed.

I see it in the corporate's
And the hallowed halls of banking,
It drips like grease from politics
And stains God's children too.
It permeates the populace
With a cloak of ashen pallor
And extends from Kings and Demigods
Through humanity to you.

And even little children
Are caught up in the maelstrom
Through television's fanfare
Of fashion and excess,
I feel tragedy unfolding
In our hedonist behaviour
I see brother clawing brother
And the future in distress.

Take a look around you
At the evidence of trouble
Observe the calamity
Of Wall Street's greed.
Feel the discomfort
Of intrusion by Government,
Feel the pain in the pocket
Of taxation's bleed.

The war drums are pounding
All over the planet
Greed and anxiety
Run hand in hand,
Corporate warmongers
Driving the politics
Flailing for more
As their empires expand.

What of the people?
We ordinary people,
Who invisibly strive
Insignificantly?
Pushed and shoved
Bought and bartered,
....In this tempest of greed
What chance have we?

Marshalg
On another sick, sick day.
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
12 February 2010

It’s very nice in Heaven
     Very gentle underfoot,
     God’s temple is so icy calm
     And that’s conservatively put.

     There’s three flags at the gateway
     They’re there to set the pace,
     Hebrew blue and Moslem green
     Under Christ’s bewhiskered face.

     Hindu’s have got a leg in
     And Zen for Zen’s sake’s there,
     But the Proddies and the Catliks
     Are in dispute as to what is fair.

     Amazing how they bicker,
     The Proddies and the Micks
     You’d think in time they’d sort it out
     Take the Irish…Silly ******!

     Getting back to Heaven…
     The golden pathways there
     With avenues of crystal gems
     To welcome you upstairs.

     And high above a shining light
     Burning in the sky,
     Which symbolizes passion,
     I suppose, or pigs that fly?

    This symbolic high Heaven stuff
     Is very hard to read,
     It could be ornamental
     Or perhaps, exactly what you need.

     One thing’s very certain though,
     When you glide into this place,
     It pays to have a solemn look
     Of seriousness on your face.

     They don’t like silly buggers
     Who joke and act the fool,
     Commitment is the keyword
     And the Bible is the tool.

     Confusing when you get there
     You’re read the riot act
     And threatened with damnation
     If with the Devil you’ve made a pact.

     The heavy condemnation
     The steely searching eye
     And then the tome of absolution
     Because He loves you, so must I ?

     So think upon it brother
     If you think you cut the cloth,
     Then walk right up and wing it
     With the Angels, like a moth.

     But should you have your doubts
     I suggest a quickish about face
     And leg it with the villains
     To that other warmish place.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
28 April 2009

Malignancy burrowing
Deep down within me
Grinding the good
To a deep reddish dust,
Flailing about
I try hard to contain it
The pain is intense
But stop it I must.

Malignancy tunneling
Down through my conscience
Baring the thoughts
That I wish least to see,
Revealing the ugliness
Locked in their content
Revealing maliciousness
Portrayed in me.

Desperately trying
To hold the malignancy
Desperately trying
To stop the release,
But out through the keyhole
It flows to the atmosphere
Out to the public
Out to the police.

Malignancy laughs
As a form of appeasement
Malignancy reaches
To hold out it's hand,
Malignancy calms
My hammering heartbeat
The secret's out there
And I'm dead in the sand.


Marshalg
On a rare sick day
@theBach
9 January 2010

Pyramids of fantasy
Heaped upon humanity,
Contingency for failure
And catastrophic loss.
Clear across the spectrum
There's delusion in the making,
Ego's elevated
...and we couldn't give a toss!

Bizarre expectations
In accumulated fortune,
Disdain for the suffering
Rendered bye the bye.
Collateral losses
Are part of the equation,
To hell with the consequence
Reach for the sky.

Promise delivered
With the best of intention,
Received by all
With delirious joy.
Cascading showers
Of pristine tomorrows,
Rendered oblique
As political ploy.

Crass eyes are shining
With glee in deception,
Pockets are bulging
With ill gotten gain.
Across the spectrum
The thieves are aligning,
In robbing the world
And deflecting the blame.

And we all sit around
In our happy confusion,
Blissfully blind
To the larcenous state.
Of a world subjected
To GET  By the mighty;
And an emptiness brimmed
With suspicion and hate.

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
6th February 2010

When you live on the wrong side of sixty
You flirt with cold death every day,
You **** sweet air in like nectar
And you hold your breath and you pray
For tomorrow may bring a black tumour
Or a spasm, or seizure or more
Then whatever you do, whatever you say
You’l end up flat out on the floor.

For our time on this planet is temporary
Our time of enjoyment is short
Just pull out the stops and let loose man
Live it up, kiss your girl, have a snort.
Tomorrow is lost in the dreamtime,
Today is the essence of being,
So kick up your heels and spin all your wheels
and send all those worries a-fleeing.

When you live on the wrong side of sixty
Your skin has a penchant to sag
And no matter how hard you control it
Your gut is as wide as a bag.
Your whit was once so exciting
Your repartee so sharp
Now you mumble and wheeze
And occasionally sneeze
And frequently squeeze out a ****.

Oh life was once so enticing
The sparkle and crackle was there
When you danced on the floor
The crowd yelled for more
And you dazzled with lights in your hair.
Now the dance floor is silent and empty
The music has faded away
Just to have it once more
My poor heart does implore ?
.. But the crimson has faded to grey.

Now you’l think I’m buried in sorrow,
Enmeshed in self pity galore
But the fact of the matter
Is served on a platter
… I really don’t care anymore.
For you see I’ve learnt a great secret
Discovered a pearly white truth..
That life is as free
As a bird in a tree
And remorse is really uncouth.

So no more do I wallow in sadness,
No more do I tear out my heart
Instead I rejoice in my gladness
And retrace all the steps from the start.
For living’s a sequence of pictures
To give or take as you choose
If your selections awry
Then you’re lost in the sky
..you pick the wrong one.. You lose!

The sun comes up in the morning
The light erupts in the sky
And the beautiful song of the blackbird
Brings a tear of joy to my eye.
The golden greens of the shadows
The crystal glint of dew
Encapsulates the rapture
I feel on seeing you.
For a friend makes life worth living
A smile a golden door
To the promise of tomorrow
Oh! The future’s good ..once more

When you live on the wrong side of sixty
Life’s lessons treat you right
You separate the wheat from chaff
And celebrate the fight.
You make the most of good stuff
And embrace all the fun
You interact with positives ..
DO THIS,
AND FRIEND ….YOU’VE WON!

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
21st January 2007

Aloft upon some distant shore
The seabird sets her wings to soar
The salt sea tang of crested breeze
Or howling gale of winters freeze,
Through oceans, mountainous or not
Or sea Sargasso flat and hot,
In dancing wavelets sparkling clear
Where hunted mackerel school in fear,
Where natives in their dugout boats
Caste out their nets and balsa floats,

That tiny bird will soar adrift
Negotiating each wind shift.
One wonders how a thing so small
Can fly against the wind at all;
But sweep she does and plunge and veer
In gracious symmetry to steer
Across the oceans vastness too,
To land right there, right next to you.
In squawking lightness, dancing swings
Sea bird alights ….and folds her wings.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
8th. December 2007