Serenely independent  of ineptitude in life
Unclamoured by resentment’s inconvenience and strife,
When borne upon a wave of incredible blue sea
To leave a beaming smile on this old, wrinkled face of me.

Gleefully convulsing at a funny story told
When the teller roared with laughter and crossed her legs to hold,
And the day began with sunshine and a twinkle in the eye
And progressed to such hilarity, to make a grown man cry.

And once you’ve got the giggles, they’re impossible to lose
Despite the glass of water or the remedy you choose.
The tickle of the moment will make you catch your breath
And you’ll erupt in gales of laughter and quite *** yourself bereft!

Oh the joy to have a  wet spot on a sunny afternoon
When the pheromones are coursing and the day is for the loons
When the aching in your belly joins the weakness in the knees
And reminds you of the magic found in laughter, if you please.

Marshalg
Tickled pink in the sunshine
23 November 2011

Therapeutic it may seem,
Illuminist assumptions claw
To recollections which allude
To that which was and is no more.
Gone is history’s clear blue mode
Associations lost to shade
In jaded hopes of eons past
To aspirant’s cold censored fade.
Germans clawed to **** shrine,
Eskimo’s to barren ice,
Russians wept in baritone.
Aspirations censored thrice.
Reaching back to jewelled thought
Dim as dust, as it may be,
Gossamers of shades of silk
All valuable as gold to me.

Now weeping in frustration’s craw
Extending out for tendrils thin,
Misting clouds in shrouded skies
But tantalizing taunts begin…
Fulfilment in a feather touch
Of fingers stretching into dark…
A trickle of a thread resumes
As fragrant ghosts of recall hark!*

M.
Auckland
17 October 2014

Thought about the values
That stipulate the way
You hold yourself in public
And play your cards each day.
Those building blocks of character
The templates in your psych,
The friction points of weakness
That wake you in the night.


Thought about the substance
That binds you to your way
The strengths and the failings
That motivate your day.
Enigmatic factors,
The quirks in your soul
Which endear you to some
But leave others cold.


Thought about loving
And loathing and pride,
And the great depths of sorrow
We carry inside.
The reluctance to face
The resentments of sin
In selective amnesia's
We nurture within.


Thought about birth
With it's promise and joy,
Thought about death
As finality's ploy
Laughed at the memory
Of your smiling face
And squirmed with discomfort
At an old lie's disgrace.


Thought about leaving
Decided to stay,
Thought about praying
Buy what would I say ?
I decided to sit
And contemplate life
With it's myriad pleasures,
Fantasies, strife.


I Thought about you
With a smile on your face,
And I'll ponder awhile
In this pleasant place.....
I'll sit and remember
The happiness pared
From that thin whisp of timeframe
Old Mother Fate shared.

M.
3 September 2014

Thought about the values
That stipulate the way
You hold yourself in public
And play your cards each day.
Those building blocks of character
The templates in your psych,
The friction points of weakness
That wake you in the night.


Thought about the substance
That binds you to your way
The strengths and the failings
That motivate your day.
Enigmatic factors,
The quirks in your soul
Which endear you to some
But leave others quite cold.


Thought about loving
And loathing and pride,
And the great depths of sorrow
We carry inside.
The reluctance to face
The resentments of sin
With selective amnesia
We nurture within.


Thought about birth
With it's promise and joy,
Thought about death
As finality's ploy
Laughed at the memory
Of your smiling face
And squirmed with discomfort
In an old lies disgrace.


Thought about leaving
But decide to stay,
Thought about praying
Buy what would I say ?
I decided to sit
And contemplate life
With it's myriad fantasies,
Pleasures and strife.


I Thought about you
With a smile on your face,
So I'll ponder awhile
In this pleasant place.
I'll sit and remember
The happiness spared
In that thin whisp of timeframe
That mother fate shared.


Marshalg
@theBach
19 July 2009

Ive got pangs of nostalgia
For tenderness, then
When simplicity painted
An honesty, when
Words would build pictures,
Responses relate,
Giving meaning to warmth
In diminish-ment of hate.
Empathy's gift
For those tears on his face,
And the baring of souls
In our poetry's grace.

The candle burns for all of us,
Now, from time to time,
Contention does, occasionally though,
Cause the teeth to grind.
Sometimes a belly laugh erupts,
While others wonder why,
Some weep at words of falling rain
Against an evening sky?
Mostly, it's the warm
And familiar words from you
In uttering a smiled response
To help my tough day through.
A companionable chortle,
A joke, a helping hand
Or even just that tiny note....
To say you understand.

You hit the Nail on the Head, Joel.
M.

There's shades of grey throughout the day,
Throughout the night entire
And should we bleed in questing need
Comparisons conspire.

Shades of grey when they must pay
To ply as best they try,
Whilst few shall rise to grasp the prize
We falterer's won't cry...

For Shakespeare wrote...
To write bespoke commits sad souls to die.
M.

Wide, grey waters rolling in
Invisibly it flows
Like a spreading carpet over mud
Inexorably it grows.
Created by a lunar force
And global winds at play,
Twice each day the tides do surge
To crest and flow away.


Twice each day the tide rolls in
To cover shoals of sands
And beds of oysters, muddy brown
With squirting water glands.
And twice each day the seabirds flock
To alight on draining shores
To harvest succulents and *****
And other tasty mores.


Oyster pickers congregate
In flocks of white and black
Red beaks plunging deeply
In green pastures for a snack.
Amazingly, they all take flight
A thousand beating wings
Which heel about collectively
Inking out all skyward things.


A thousand, million wavelets play
Across the level span
Pursued by wind’s relentless glove
In a patterned, surging plan.
And each reflects a kiss of light,
Each wavelet in the run
Collectively illuminate
Like diamonds in the sun.


Above the waves the seagulls ply
In corridors of air
In squadron flights of symmetry
To weave and wheel with flair,
Their raucous calls at distance
The poetry of sound,
In tidal terms, a symphony
Of seaward things profound.


The haze at the horizon
Of salt spray in the air,
White ,crunchy shells on beaches,
Pohutukawa’s everywhere.
A feeling of things tidal
In a lazy, salty way,
And enjoying the quiet beauty
Of this lovely, coastal bay.


Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
4th March 2009

******* 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

A gossamer extravagance
More valuable than gold
But substance less as ether
Impossible to hold.

This is all the time we have
Every second past is lost
Irrretreivable to we
Who ,so nervously, count the cost.

Every mote of passing time
Fading from the now in mists
Losing shape’s integrity
Whilst coloured radiance desists.

What is soon to be, is now
And relegated fast to then,
Vanquished in a flick of fraud
Of stolen time to frantic men.

Like dust it pours through fingers
Seconds irretrievably depart,
Fleeing fast from consciousness,
Wrenched away from racing heart.

Lying in our skinny beds
We sweat away our seconds now,
Flicking eyeballs counting down
Till death eternal shows us how.

Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
4 March 2012

© 2012 Marshal Gebbie

Tightening the rope as the fools dance and dither
Squandering the moments as hourglass falls,
Walking the tightrope in a world lost to thither
Assassins maraud as the fat General calls.
Flat fingers hover above plastic buttons
Hover in hesitant moments of pause,
Waiting in limbo instructions from Hades
Exultantly plunging to holocaust cause.
Plunging erotically down to the plastic
Smearing the sweat and blood in a pool,
Lusting your moment of utter destruction
Casting all humankind’s best …to be fool.

Doubt not veracity’s balance in tremor
Out there the Devil is dancing his jig,
Everywhere globally men flee in terror
Uncertainty slides with the squeal of the pig.
Russia inflates as tyrannical tyrant
Isis is spreading its carpet of blood,
Worldwide the military gird for battle
Appeasement disbursed in a torrent of flood
Shades of veracity flood Sarajevo
Memories taunt of that drumbeat to war,
Demagogues strut now the march of the scarlet
God flees reality….and is no more.

M.
17 March 2015

This place we now find ourselves in, in history, where Human aggression is recognized as being a universal paramount in the fight for global survival..

Where in the face of Russian warmongering and charging Chinese military expansionism?
Where in the uncertainty of the volatility and utterly predictable intentions of second string nuclear nations, such as North Korea, Israel, India , Pakistan, South Africa and, soon, Iran, there can be no promise of security from the possibility of spontaneous outbreak of nuclear hostilities.?
Where the USA, because of the trajectories of its diabolical, episodic electoral swings, In that every four years the political spectrum and its spinning wheel of alliances and militaristic articulations change to render the nation as predictably unreliable militarily and, essentially, heading towards being a potential fortress unto itself?
Where nuclear NATO and Europe wallow in a quagmire of indecision and bickering between themselves rendering them, collectively, insignificant?
Where emergent South Korea, Taiwan, Japan and several South American nations are currently being backed into a position where they are being forced to militarize, to join the nuclear club for their own survival?
Where the Jihadists will ultimately procure and utilize a nuclear device in the most spectacular manner possible….to further their own ends?

There have been 106 major wars fought since 1945. Many of them brushfire wars between populations within a single or neighboring nation, the like of which are still being fought in countries such as Nigeria, the Congo, Sudan, Syria, Palestine, Afghanistan and Yemen. Wars where people are being brutalized, dispossessed, killed and *****, daily. Where thousands are made refugees having to abandon their homes, their lives and their families in the face of brute force and extreme violence. Wars which are completely ignored by much of the rest of the world. Ignored because they don’t touch the comfortable normality of everyday life, the harmony of an existence without the threat of violent death by marauding gunmen or suicide vest explosives.

We in peaceful corners of the world live in a fool’s paradise because the threat of sudden widespread thermonuclear war has never been so immanent, so poised to erupt, since that of the Cuban Missile crisis of 1962 where Kennedy and Khrushchev were within a hairs breadth of unleashing nuclear armageddon on the world. Sanity prevailed then, a compromise was reached where nuclear armaments were mutually removed from Poland and Cuba and the world entered the phase of MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction). An insanity which berthed the age of Détente.

And so it has been till now. A balancing act where nuclear nations tip toed around each other stretching the limits of confrontation without actually trespassing to the threshold.

Putin has passed the threshold with his extended invasion of Ukraine, He had the opportunity of freezing hostilities and retaining Donbas and the Crimean peninsula for Russia. He twice declined this opportunity and reinforced his attack on the Ukrainian people. Biden’s USA dug in as did the nations of NATO declaring their intention to militarily support the  forces of Ukraine for as long as it took to force Russia’s hand.
An impasse which hovers both sides on the very brink of nuclear confrontation.

China skips back and forth playing peacemaker to the UN and brother in arms to its Communistic ally, Russia. Yet all the while China trumpets its ultimate destiny of world ******* by force. Flexing her muscle in the Spratley and Paracell islands of the South China sea where she has expanded coral atolls into fortified military airfields threatening the free trade sealanes between Asia and the world. China now claims the South china sea as her own sovereign territory and patrols this seaway aggressively with armed warplanes and warships.

China confronts the Seventh Fleet of the USA navy over her demand of ownership of Taiwan, the forces are nose to jowel with fingers on the trigger. Taiwan is the world leader in production of microchips, They have the factories and the raw materials, Taiwan own the secrets of the processing. China are desperate to get this technology… and they need it now for further development of their computer and space research development. They have threatened Taiwan with military maneuvers and declarations of intention to invade. The only thing stopping them is the standoff with the USA military. Hair trigger stuff which is so volatile it could erupt at any time.

I gaze out the window here in the beautiful green foothills of Mt. Taranaki in New Zealand. The Tasman sea extends out for miles as a peaceful, shimmering deep blue visage. The air is warm and still in this early Autumn harmony. Birds fly by, farmers till their fields bringing in the season’s crop of maize. Harmony, peace and beauty reign supreme. A masterpiece of order and something of immense value to all who live here and share it……But for how long before it all becomes destruction, despair and subjugation. How long before the aggression and the greed for power reaches out to this far outpost of humanity to crush the life out of it with it’s sudden, vast, violent and toxic nuclear fist?

The way humanity is going right now?…..NOT LONG!

I listened to a podcast recently where this question was put to a number of philosophers, scientists, authors and national leaders…..”When will War End?”
The consensus of opinion was that war has always been a part of mankind’s makeup. Only humans and Chimpanzees wage war and only humans do it with a visceral passion.
When humans wage peace…they get bored! Peace is boring!  …genuinely this was a common theme.
The group saw warfare as an inherent part of man’s competitive nature, they saw it as a compilation of greed, ego, lust for power and assets.

When will war end? Certainly not in my lifetime, probably never!
Live with it, they said!

M@Foxglove,Taranaki NZ

May your Christmas be jolly & frivolous & free,
May your puddin’ be sweeter than grapes on a tree.
May your lips pout n’ pucker, n’ beam when they smile
To advance your good nature by a looong country mile.
May you laugh & be merry & be generous to they
Who exhibit odd traits in the course of their day,
Who display the odd tendency, viscious and wild,
To abuse the odd neighbor and flay the odd child.
Be generous to they with a kink in their neck
And a fooking loud bark & a flame in their fleck.

Spread the hail and be hearty, caste it forth & be free
And in your own good time, have a whiskey on me.
For you, here’s some cuddles & hugs for the day…..
And some great Christmas love to keep the ******* @ bey.

                                       Merry Xmas          
                                                  ­         Marshalg
                                                        ­   Taranaki NZ

Metronome's monotonous throb
Of Vladimir's compulsive gob
Committed to an act of sin
Retraction now, the end of him
Retraction though unleashes dogs
Who, once unleashed, must feed the hogs?

Where, on the other hand, attack,
Shall fling the cloak of warfare, back....
With all it's certitude, unknown,
In halls of nuclear risk, un-shown,
Through avenues of could and can
In fear from panicked distant land.

Should courage falter in the West?
Should old men quail when put to test?
Be assured the next to fall
Shall be Taiwan to Beijing's call.
Be assured, in black and white,
The dominoes may fall.... tonight!

M.
In stark disbelief @ Putin's Russia taking the planet to the very edge of Armageddon, again?
16 February 2022

Reflective moments passed in mist
An instant lost to time.... and kissed,
With wish-full thoughts and wilfull haze
Which, when examined, threw a maze
Of utter, stark, futility
Which questions the stability
In all I treasure most right now.....
My ****** soul's sequential source,
Serenity's sweet bride, tranquility.
M.

.


There have been many who would criticize my motives
An abundance who would take my case to task,
But of all the souls encountered in my lifetime
Your betrayal friend would likely, be the last.

For throughout my time of living on this planet
Throughout the chaos wrought in every simple way,
Mankind has strived to put his best foot forward
And wrest the most achievement, from each day.

Through battles fought in bitterness and hatred
In trechery and lies to kith and kin,
Though blood runs rich and red through rocky gutters
Inevitably, deep down, imbues the sin.

For continents and cultures wear their frailty
It's known that Presidents and Princes often quail,
When in the face of insurmountable black challenge
They, like us, at some dark moment.... weakly fail.

From Dallas to Twin Towers on to Lockerbie
We watched the fabric of the silver curtain fray,
Crumbling man's portrayal then, to scattered ashes
From that moment on.... until this very day.

Though brave words of inspiration lift the spirit
And silken tones of oratory stroke the goal,
It seems destruction of all faith is fundamental
If betrayal slays the trust to flay the soul.

So gird thyself, steadfast, with strength and courage
Summon forth that steel within thy mind,
Garner up the cherry bonds of positivity
And lead as if, thy very eyes command the blind.

That man aspires to greatness, I acknowledge,
In conquoring great mountains to achieve...
But the factor that determines the attainment
Is his unimpeachable capacity.... to believe.

Marshalg
Foxglove, Taranaki.
3 january 2015
(After reading Ken Follett's monumental novel, "Edge of Eternity" in a straight, great, three day sitting.)

Ridden the road the hard way, son,
Left my soul in pending.
Forfeit all the good things gone
Remembered well, their ending.
Recalled that special moment, son,
When I met your mother.
Trouble, son, was at that time
I sadly yearned another.
Now complications ebb and flow
And for reasons, now forgotten,
I chose to back the wrong girl, son,
Who turned out, simply rotten.
Besides my heart she stole my cash
And left me by the wayside,
Badly beaten and forlorn
Despondent on the down slide.

Your Mama came and picked me up
Drunken and in strife,
Slapped my face and dressed me down
And fed me facts of life.
Realization, like a thunderbolt,
Plain hit me in the gut
That, she, the only thing of value
Made me keep my big mouth shut.
I walked on eggs for days, son,
Played my cards so well
Then quite suddenly it struck me
That she caused my heart to swell.
The days, thereafter, shined so bright
The nights began to spin
And love arose in splendour, son,
To pave your passage in.
You came about like thunder, son,
You paved the way with gold
When all at once, my baby boy
She gave to me, to hold.
Never was the sun so bright
The night, the stars, the moon
When Gabriel stepped forth to blow
His most resplendent tune.
When life took on a magnitude
When she and thee and I
Did elevate beyond the cloud
To soar into the sky.

But weakness be my failing, son,
This weakness be my sin
When, then, a lithe and wanton ****
Did undulate, with talent, in.
I broke her heart, I let you down
I threw our life away
Descended into purgatory, son,
...And thus, I shall now pay.
I've ridden the road the hard way, son,
Left my soul in pending.
Forfeit all the good things gone
Recalled, well, their ending.

M.
29 June 2020

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

Gorgons in the grasses by my window
Phantoms in the corridors of mind,
Elves and Angels flit amongst the fairies
But Godhead is the hardest thing to find.

Experiments with rationale confound me
Argument, well meaning, leaves me cold,
I've thrashed it out with he who has seen the Holy See
But futility has left me feeling old.

Millions feel the joy of their religion
Base their lives on regimental right,
Alone I meet the day and feel no need to pray,
And stride with independence to the night.

I read your words of beauty for your Maker
I felt the passion living on the page,
I cried for your belief and in so doing, felt relief
For the singer not the song, for me, engaged.

So there, my beauty, lies our living quandary
For you and I the chemistry's the same.
For you with God in hand inhabit my agnostic land
And simultaneously, we exult in falling rain.

Marshalg
To Christine and Anselm, with happiness in having found new friends.
The Pukehana Paradise
Auckland
12 March 2013

Cry not for what you do not have
Bleed less for what is given,
For the cruelty in your fellow man
Will paint how greed is driven.
The silent fields of Sobibor
And Dachau's dull grey light,
Pay testament to past largess
In what is wrong and right.
Conception's teeming contest
Has dispensed your primal luck,
Your greater expectations
Have run, gratuitously, amok.
For what you are is what you get
This mirror's image barks,
And delusional ostentatiousness
Reinforces those remarks.
Seek not the golden rainbow
Nor pursue the greener field,
For disaffected affectations
Promise you a simple yield.
Learn to love the skin you live in
Irrespective of the warts,
Live within your  limitations
Despite disparaging retorts.
Count the blessings of the moment
Take each small step at a time,
Come to terms with who you are
And you will find it all...sublime!.



Marshalg
@theBach
14 November 2009

Mother dear, do you recall
The day you broke down in the hall?
Do you remember why you cried ?
Why father hurt you deep inside ?
The old man gone for weeks on end
Did cause your lonely heart to rend
With sadness, made a desperate plea,
Come home Steve, please come home to me!

I watched you there in that half light
Your face collapsed, your shoulders slight,
The tears were running down your cheek,
I should have helped, I felt so bleak.
A little boy can only grasp
The simple things, the easy task.
When tears and sobbing overtake
A small boys courage tends to break.
So I stood there sadly watching you
Way back in 1952.

I recall trailing after you,
My little sister trailing too.
In failing light you staggered home
Your high heels dragging on the stone.
You’d been to McKyatt's corner bar
To meet the girls and share a jar.
We had a raspberry ade or two
And the time quite got away from you.
The cupboard's empty and the pan
So that nights meal was bread and jam.

Some days we spent beneath the bed
Whilst you and father fought and bled,
We put the fingers in our ears
And saw the wire wove through tears.
I’ve tried to recall happy days
But my head only plays replays
Of all the bad and sorry stuff
That made our childhood,
…  Oh so tough!

The last time that I saw you Mum
You looked so shrunken, thin and glum,
You lay there in that little bed
With a pillow propped beneath your head.
I can’t remember now, your words
But saw my fathers' shattered nerves.
He cried for all the broken dreams
His tears reflect your silent screams.
We left you there with hollow eyes
And kissed you without last good byes.

For years I’ve thought about you Mum
Wondered why it went wrong,
And I’ve come to the conclusion that
The war destroyed your song.
That war destroyed your happiness
It robbed you of your youth.
It stole your key to peace of mind
And muddied love and truth.
It took away prosperity
And ****** up all your life.
It deprived you of togetherness
And caused your marriage strife.
You couldn’t live with tension Mum
You needed party time,
I understand all this because
Your feelings, Mum,
…Are mine.

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
11th April 2008

To my dear son, Boaz in distant Idaho,

Saturday nite, the whole of New Zealand waited in apprehension for the All Blacks rugy team to play the resurgent Wallabys @ Fortress Eden Park.

The previous week at Suncorp Stadium in Sydney, in driving rain, the All Blacks muddled through a painfull draw with the Wallabys, 12 points each with no tries.
The Wallabys had fancied their chances and had wanted an emphatic win on home soil.
Both teams took that score as a loss and the gauntlet was thrown for the second match…..

A brilliant evening, clear and fine , 50,000 people crushed in to Eden Park and you could feel the apprehension, the rest of the country sat in front of their TV willing the team on.
The Haka was given a brutal rendition, you could feel the determination, the passion emanating….the Ozzies glared their defiance back…it was all on!

10 minutes into a titanic struggle with the score three all Captain Ritchie McCaw had a brain fade and was yellow carded off for ten minutes by the French referee.
The crowd roared…then murmured their worry  like you’ve never heard before.

The Ozzies mustered a huge scrum which the All Blacks countered with one man down…. The counter ****** pushed the Australian scrum back 15 ft.
Every man in New Zealand was on his feet roaring, you could feel the spirit of nationalism soaring….the moment was a watershed.
The All Blacks counterattacked showing a brilliance in attack and defence we have not seen for years… and from that moment on the game was won.

Final score 51:20 The Bledisloe Cup was ours.

As the match finished the TV camera panned across the solidly black clad crowd…. I have never, ever in my life, seen so many, simultaneous, sets of white teeth grinning!

The trip home to Australia would have been… a very subdued affair.

Thought I should share this marvellous moment with you Boaz.

Luv Dad.

Doth the night in tones of blue
Hide the gentle light in you?
Hide the softness in your eyes,
The wondrous love you can't disguise?

Doth the night in tones of blue
Send my song of love to you?*

M.
For Janet
23 Aug 2014

But to pass from beige to puce to rose
bequeathes a choice, I do suppose,
A choice of whence thy shall or shan't
corral thy name or curse thy can't.
Hold it high or cast it out
Regardless, LET-THY-LOUD-VOICE-SHOUT !
....For he who wears his mantle thin
Forever then, be clad in sin.
M.

Banal though you seem to be
I charge you to envisage free
A scarlet thought, a venal throb
To garnish with a stifled sob,
A crystal tear to reinforce  
The reticence I suspect, of course,
The reticence which binds you to
A crass and **** dogma's view.

Why, you say, why take this tack?
Well??? Someone needs to bring you back.....
Back to face your beauty's soul
To extricate this black Popes' goal
Of binding you to penitence
Obliterating freedom's sense!

Marshalg
8 July 2013

She asked me when?...Back then
And then she lied…and cried.
We tried so hard,… so hard it died,
A death so sweet, so sweet… to succor.

Sweet, her feet…and neat, complete
So sweetly neat…those feet.
I ****** her toe…to show and throw
My lusting fire’s desire, entire…to succor.

Though *** she slipped to Rex, perplexed,
Back then, when?...back then
My perplexed friend… when young love’s wend
Would bend to end…and succor.

M.

  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

Sparse these threads of vapour fine, of misty trails of know
Of effervescent gaseousness, wherein the mind should flow.
Sparse the shades of knowing, which  whereupon we dwell
And sparser still, when suddenly, the mind set sheds it’s shell.

That vacant hall of ordinary that hangs without a trace
Of yesterday’s familiar touch of golden knowing’s grace,
When everything just vanishes to leave this empty tomb
And life suspends to nothingness’s, cold and pallid moon.

How suddenly, how cruelly it flings away the key
To all that recognises these factors that are me,
How brutally it scarifies the topsoil from the loam
To leave the fragile flailing, futilely, so far from home.

As film’s fear descends, it seems, while realisation dwells
Of all that’s been so ruefully and painfully dispelled
What hangs now may well be my lot, my fortunes saddened song
Or perhaps should I give cheer, for stuff retained.... prolonged?

M.
Foxglove, Taranaki, NZ
7 February 2018
Threaded the needle path of the dreaded septuagenarian stroke.

Strange how the dank hand of disaster clarifies the thinking,
How all irrelevancies are scoured from the frontal lobe,
How, strangely, should you look into the morning sky, the blueness is of a brilliant, startling intensity.
How biting into a piece of fresh fruit reveals the new mouth watering,  exquisiteness of clean sweet,flavour.

Strange how the dank hand of disaster allow us to consolidate our values.
Where suddenly, the drabness of yesterday becomes the brightly,beautiful now.
Where miserable mindedness adopts an abrupt re-evaluation, in that the sour faced neighbour is embraced with passion as being a fellow survivor.
Where the rich and the poor are thrown together to work willingly, cheek by jowel, for a common cause…Tomorrow!.

Strange how the dank hand of disaster brings out THE VERY BEST IN US …isn’t it ?**

Marshalg
A commonality observed In having survived many disasters over the years.
1 November 2012

It’s all pretence, I see, my Dear
This facade that you live so well,
Your look, your walk,  the very talk
Convinces most, but I can tell,
That just beneath your garlanding
There lives a soul so insecure,
So nervous in a measured way,
That  every second... you perform
To structure a collapsing day.

Softly and with gentle touch
I kiss your anxious, fevered brow,
Stroke the tightness in your neck
Reassure that you know now,
Your secret is secure with me.
I step aside and beam to you
My silent, warm applause, my Dear
For your command performance
Holds at bay this constant fear.

Marshalg
In quiet admiration.
11 May 2011

Time has bled in buckets for you, fool
It’s structured as a self- defeating, self- depleting, tool…
But you know down deep inside, within your cone,
You're born awailing loud…then croak alone.
So plunder each very day as ego burns
Don’t labour reasons why, the poor returns?
Best laugh aloud at what your face perceives
To weep if disappointment, then deceives.
Dance like one possessed when touched with joy
Or die a million deaths, should love destroy.
Sink or swim, stagger to the end
To never once believe…you comprehend.

M.
City Edge Alliance
HAMILTON
8 March 2017

They pass like phantoms in the shade
Their faces lost in mist
Voices dimmed to strings of time
That memory resists,
Features hover through the mind
Though details in-succinct
And threads of past performances
Occur but Indistinct.
I could have passed him in the street
But never caught his name
**** ghost of time's  a misery
Consumes me so... in shame.

Old friends walk in brotherhood
Through ancient tracts of time,
Though pained familiarity
Failing to define,
I almost caught our catch cry
In that old familiar song,
Some haunting shades of yesteryear
But....guess I got it wrong.
And then there were the stories
Which didn't quite add up
Like whiskey soured to water
Slipped in your favorite cup.

But come the next Reunion
I'll saddle up to go
Spend the dollars travelling
Attempt to make a show.
I'll hail the fellas loudly
And pound them on the back
Though all the while quite frantic
Thinking, "is it Joe or Jack?"
It's a product of the vintage,
A cursed sign of times
When you know he's struggling just as hard
Cos he can't remember mine!

M&Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ

Trouble looms on yon horizon
Scan the body language near,
Signs of agitation pending
Thinning lips to eyes of fear.
Perspiration at the temple
Ire suppressed in florid face,
Amplitude of conversation
Hold the stance and maintain grace.
Pace yourself in torrid moments
Stand as though you know you’ll win,
Gird yourself for fiery challenge
Brace the strength you hold within.
Confrontation rears it’s mane
Conflict will now have it’s way,
Gird yourself for battle friend...
Initiate and win the day!
(Or take a breath and walk away.)


Marshalg
@theCoalface
Mangere Bridge
22 October 2009

When just a lad, I felt my way
Through disappointments fruitless day,
When girls in pretty, frocks, on swings,
Would tempt and do outlandish things….
Flash a leg, then run a mile?
Con me with the sweetest smile?
Then lead me up the garden path
To leave me hanging…with a laugh.

The problem when you’re short and fat
You are really not worth looking at
And If you can’t afford to buy
Her pretty things, that catch the eye
Or ice cream at the candy bar
Or sweeties at the church bazaar?
Then relegation’s hard and fast
Hit the queue, boy, standing last!

Sports day when the flags all fly
Athletes bend and flex till spry,
Leggy limbs in flimsy gear
Students grinning, ear to ear.
Racing competition tough
Discus, javelin, shot putt rough,
Fabulous in shining sun
Corps D’esprit in all, as one.
Chubby me then won the mile
Happily, some ladies smile!

Then joyously, the old school dance
Where every young man stands a chance,
Dance floor marks your battle ground
Where courage prompts the move, profound,
To front up to that pretty thing
To join you for the Highland Fling.
Abandonment to utter joy
With laughter, love and girl, employ
A whirl of movement, synchronize,
In sweaty brow and thigh to thighs.

That moment on the balcony
When all the disappointments flee,
Shyly holding hands, you share
A kiss…that blasts the very air,
The sky, the stars, the night, the moon…
With reeling mind you spin and swoon
For home, as magic thoughts careen
Of soft sweet lips and loves' first dream.

M.
Brighton High School
1958

As a maddened beast it charges
Emanating with expanse
Brute techtonic plate reaction
From the epicentre’s stance.
Huge concentric rings diverge
Expanding at horrific rate
Black, titanic, towering waters
Ploughing to a deadly fate.

Kneeling in her bed of roses
Pollinating bees abound,
Morning sunbeams kiss her shoulders
Peaceful garden bliss surrounds.

Surging to the coastal shelf
The black gigantis rears on high
Claws toward the placid beach
Seabirds scatter to the sky.
Tide receds to bare the reef
Stranded mackerel whitely leap,
Enormously the massive wave
Attacks the land and they who sleep.

Death comes fast to they who loiter
Violence in the tangled purge,
Massive pressures, crushing debris
Broken buildings in the surge.
Ships and cars are tossed asunder
Inexorably it slams
Far inland to slay those fleeing
Locked in highway traffic jams.

Strange roar at the garden wall
Terrified, she finds her feet,
Roses, bees, sweet girl engulfed
As black entombedment swamps the street.

Far inland the chaos flows
Wreaking death's destructive bands,
Halted now by highland hills
Where souls in horror, wring their hands.
Slow retraction leaving ruin
Desolation far and wide,
The smell of new death in the air,
Heartbreak in the countryside.


Marshalg
For Nippon
18 March 2011

BITING** hard to taste the blood
Searing FRANTIC tensions flood,
Know that should you STOP to turn
The HORROR just behind will burn
ALL that you have done to date,
Tear, DESTROY, eviscerate.
Flee or FIGHT with tooth or gun
WEAVE amidst collapses run,
Weave amidst CHAOTIC mess
GIRD thyself to wear duress,
Turn to STRIKE there's no recourse
FLAY THE EVIL, NO REMORSE!.


Marshalg
In Confrontation.
AUCKLAND
9 April 2011