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Marshal Gebbie Nov 2020
Thank God, Boyo!!!

…and as you know, I’m not a religious man. Sanity prevails in the land of the brave and the free where President elect Joe Biden and Vice President elect Kamela Harris will create HOPE!

Hope for unity, hope for healing, hope for promise…Hope for a change in attitude to combat the pandemic with science and resolve…as a nation.

Hope that the great division in American society will heal, that America, once again becomes a nation that reunites with it’s allies, that supports worldwide environmental concerns and works positively towards planetary salvation from the  deadly threat of global warming. Hope that once again, America will regenerate its momentum and values to become the powerhouse of production that it once was and the flagship inspirational leader of the free world.

Regardless of Trump’s destructive death throes, his continued agitation and disruption during the transition of power over the next three months…which, I’m sure you will agree, is inevitable…. I feel an incredible sense of relief that, at last, we are on the correct track to righting the wrongs, the excesses, the outright perversions of the last four years of chaos.

This is the best news I’ve had in years….and I celebrate, with all those cheering people out there in the street today…a better, brighter United States of America and a safer, happier world.

Cheers mate
Dad.
Taranaki, NZ.
Marshal Gebbie Jun 2012
Greetings Sissa,

Sunday morning early we walked along the wild black sand beach at the bottom of our road at Taranaki. For once the sea was quiescent, tranquil even. A gentle surge but the air was freezing. A heavy white frost cloaked our pasture at home and the grazing cows were snorting eruptions of hot breath from their nostrils. Over our shoulder old Egmont loomed, whiter than white with a heavy mantle of fresh snow, the foothills just behind home had a good coating too.

Quite often janet & I will bolt out of the sack, just before dawn, have a quick cuppa & drive up to Pukeiti for a walk through the gardens & the bush. We get the beautiful dawn chorus of the birdlife and it is SPECTACULAR!

We planted out some flowering “Companionata” cherry trees..great for the visiting tui’s in spring. They get highly territorial…my tree!..and have ding **** battles, chasing each other at high speed through the bush. Amazing aerobatics. We’ve got dozens of these trees scattered around the place now…in ten years the spring blossom show will be amazing.

Had a bit of bad luck with the vehicle lately, blew the core out of the radiator & cooked the motor, fixed that, drove 24ks down the road and the motor computer died. These things are like hen’s teeth to replace. I found there is a national waiting list of 11 owners sitting on dead landcruisers waiting for 2nd hand computers for the 93 auto model!!! And the 2nd hand computers here are selling for $3000!!
I even wrote to Greg in the States to see if he could pick one up for me…. Then I happened upon this little Asian bloke, just around the corner, who said”Oh I can fix that for you”!....cost me $196….I nearly kissed him!
Anyway mobile again and the old crate is running ,once again, like ****** clock!....but expensive when she stuffs up.

We are both working like automatons….you and your old man would know ALL about that!
We work 12 hours /day, 6 days/week then we jump in the car and launch off to Taranaki, 5 hours distant, to work our arses off, down there all Saturday, then, the next day, Sunday, pack up and barrel off 5 hours up the road back to Auckland… just in time to ****** a few hours sleep before the coming weeks work!....*******!

Sometimes I wonder what the hell it is all about.

Quite enjoying the new job, I’m the “Plant Coordinator” for the Waterview Project.
I keep track of all the plant scattered over miles and miles of construction site, tabulate plant movements, keep the hire companies honest and keep our operators operating! Involves constant driving from site to site, constant computer entries in my trusty laptop and a hellava lot of vigilance because every ******* is trying to beat the ****** system. Much more interesting than the Storman’s job, much more vibrant, much more confrontational!

Just the thing for an adolescent 67 year old.

That’s it from me…. Hope you are happy and keeping it all together. Hope the kids are doing well… mine are all pretty busy and happy with their lot…. Got a lovely call from Boaz at some unearthly hour on Sunday morning… Looks like he will be back in godzone during August.
Obama’s government is giving foreign workers a hard time in the States….too many Yanks out of work in their own country…so he is awaiting his Visa renewal and is doubtful that it will eventuate. Incredibly, his boss just told him that he would like to keep Boaz there, (In the States) for another five years of the projects life!!
Pretty ****** good for a country boy from National Park!

Gotta go, luvya Siss, love to Royboy & a big smootch for the girls.

M
Marshal Gebbie Apr 2018
Happy Birthday to you Toni, may you be supping many cold pina colladas in old Mehico with my boy Gumtree Gebbie.
Only know it’s your birthday because it also happens to be our 33rd wedding anniversary. 33 years with the old Sheila….Gawd!
She phoned me a few minutes ago to remind me…I’m sitting at my early morning desk writing out purchase orders, she is sitting up in bed at Taranaki, with a hot cup of tea issuing orders.
Something about the order of things there??

Off home this afternoon with a car full of ***** washing, fresh strawberrys and bunches of asparagus picked this morning. I’ve got instructions to mow the ****** lawns, **** eat the verges and trim the ****** hedges, pick up her DVD and newest novel from the New Plymouth library as I pass through…and get here by 6pm or you’ll be late for tea….again!!!
Paradise this marriage business, ******* paradise!

On Sunday we plan to celebrate the New Year by having dinner at the Sugar Plum café in Opunake…which will be an event!....then we are off to the “Peoples Cinema” in Opunake which is run by a farmers wife who, incidentally, wears loud print, tent like dresses, is about 4 axe handles wide and speaks with a distinctly unpleasant nasal twang. The “Peoples Cinema” is famous for its seating arrangement…. 120 ancient couches spread before the silver screen from which patrons are encouraged to drink their own ***** and crunch away on packets of noisy potato chips….Should be fun…”no bookings necessary” she nasally informed. ….Movie on offer “****** on the Orient Express”
Mum and I should be home, tucked up in bed and snoring… well before midnite!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Luv Dad

PS: HAPPY NEW YEAR to both you fellas and your lovely ladies, may your festivities match ours and may good things happen to us all in the new year ahead…..We deserve it !
Cheers dears  Dad
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2018
Happy Birthday to you Toni, may you be supping many cold pina colladas in old Mehico with my boy Gumtree Gebbie.

Only know it’s your birthday because it also happens to be our 33rd wedding anniversary. 33 years with the old Sheila….Gawd!

She phoned me a few minutes ago to remind me…I’m sitting at my early morning desk writing out purchase orders, she is sitting up in bed at Taranaki, with a hot cup of tea issuing orders.

Something about the order of things there??

Off home this afternoon with a car full of ***** washing, fresh strawberrys and bunches of asparagus picked this morning. I’ve got instructions to mow the ****** lawns, **** eat the verges and trim the ****** hedges, pick up her DVD and newest novel from the New Plymouth library as I pass through…and get here by 6pm or you’ll be late for tea….again!!!

Paradise this marriage business, effing paradise!

On Sunday we plan to celebrate the New Year by having dinner at the Sugar Juice café in Opunake…which will be an event!....then we are off to the “Everyman's Cinema” in Opunake which is run by a farmers wife who, incidentally, wears loud print, tent like dresses, is about 4 axe handles wide and speaks with a distinctly unpleasant nasal twang. The “Everyman's Cinema” is famous for its seating arrangement…. 120 ancient couches spread before the silver screen from which patrons are encouraged to drink their own ***** and crunch away on packets of noisy potato chips….Should be fun…”no bookings necessary” she nasally informed. ….Movie on offer “****** on the Orient Express”

Mum and I should be home, tucked up in bed and snoring… well before midnite!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Luv Dad

  PS: HAPPY NEW YEAR to both you fellas and your lovely ladies, may your festivities match ours and may good things happen to us all in the new year ahead…..We deserve it !

Cheers dears Dad
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2011
There comes a time, my Darling, when we must all relinquish the reigns.

I wrote each of our boys a letter . It spoke of our pride and love for them. It set them free and wished them Godspeed. It gave gentle , but good advice.

The letter told them of the wealth of possibilities out there and the choices which lay at their feet. It showed them the broad, clean canvass which lay before them.

It told them of our high expectations and the need for them to stay within society’s guidelines. It told them about social conscience and responsibility to friend and family.

It told them of the need to produce their very best work at all times, to strive for innovation and improvement. To take pride in their creations.

Those letters I think, made a significant change in the thinking of both boys.
The letters lay open the heavy gate of adulthood, for them to choose to pass through.

And I must tell you my Sweet, that writing and delivering those letters, left me standing quietly, with a strange, remote and sad feeling of contemplative emptiness.


To Darling Janet from her loving husband.

Marshalg
Auckland, NZ
5 November 2011
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2010
Pretence to be what you are not
Compounds the very way,
You spout the cause and issuance
Of guilt in interplay.

The moments carved from honesty
Cause sweat to run between
The shoulder blades of conscience
And beads of guilt to gleam.

Gut squirms in apprehension,
Those averted, eyes do coax
A riot of indecision
And shrill nervousness to broach.

Sweating brow is glistening
There’s a tremor in the fist,
Wide, dancing eyes unsteady
And a reluctance to resist.

A perfunctory bark of laughter
Occasionally forced between the teeth
And a loosening of the bowels
Betrays a quivering beneath.

These symptoms to the practiced eye
All unveil the hidden truth,
That surreptitiousness in it’s starkest form
Shall reveal you as ....uncouth.


Marshalg
Victoria Park tunnel
11 November 2010
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2023
It’s August here in New Zealand which means it is the middle of Winter. It rains almost every day here during winter.
Firewood piled outside the door is getting low so I earmarked two hours to barrow split wood from an auxiliary pile, stacked against the rear wall of the house, to the depleted pile, under cover of weather, at the house frontage.

The wood had been there for many months so it was full of spiders. Big spiders with brown chevrons on the back of their abdomen, Wolf spiders the locals call them, they can give you a nasty bite but they have insufficient venom to harm humanity. These spiders inhabit the underside of the split wood, they build silky white webs that resemble pouches. The webs catch inquisitive insects that search for food in the woodpile. The insects become entangled in the webs and the spiders pounce upon them and eat them. I saw plenty of evidence today of both the big spiders and what remains of their insect meals. Shells of the scarabs epidermis actually, all of the soft innards ****** out by the hungry spiders.

Also in the woodpile were several female Beech wasps, brightly colored little Hymenoptera with yellow and black banded stripes, with fearsome, sharp stingers protruding from the very end of the abdomen.  These wasps were not sheltering in the woodpile from the falling rain, they were hunting for the big Wolf spiders. Arachnids ten times their size and equally as combative as the hunting wasps.

Undeterred by size and ferocity the wasps attack the huge spiders without hesitation, Make no mistake, war is waged here for should the spider lance the wasp with its fangs the wasp will die an agonizing death, but if the wasp manages to deftly spear the spider with its stinger, a powerful venom will be injected into the spider immediately paralyzing it…..but the venom doesn’t actually **** the spider, it immobilizes it. The female wasp then penetrates the bulging abdomen of the Arachnid with her ovipositor and lays all of her eggs inside the paralyzed creature. Once egg laying is completed the female wasp disengages herself from the spider and flies away to die.

Almost immediately the wasp eggs hatch inside and the little white larvae begin to consume the living internals of the spider. They continue to eat the fresh edibles until they metamorphosize into young adult wasps which chew their way out of the, now dead, husk of spider and fly away to seek a mate which in turn, once fertilized, will ultimately hunt yet another unfortunate spider to host the fearsome hatchlings of her own busy brood.

As I stacked the wood in the front alcove I paused for a few moments to ponder the miracle of life and death enacted, unsuspectedly, in the battleground of my back woodpile….and marveled at the absolute drama of it all.

[email protected]
20 August 2023
Marshal Gebbie May 2011
Life's Blue Bubble hovers there,
Floating twixt joy and despair.
Floats amidst a sea of waste,
Ignored in all the desperate haste.
Hovers in a shoal of souls,
All with independant goals.
Floating through chaotic time,
A sanity to fools sublime.
Retching technicolour barfs,
Marking time between the laughs.
Drifting by, so purposeless,
Assiduously avoiding stress.
Slips between a start and end,
Beyond which few can comprehend.
Life's Blue Bubble seeks to love,
Void below and void above.
And then cold fate will play it's worst
In causing Life's Blue Bubble's burst.

Marshalg
@ the bach
13 May 2011
Marshal Gebbie Feb 2016
Portends of heartrending fancy
Cast of mind relapsed to one,
Image of what could have been
Had one completed, all begun.
Back through thoughts of distant ventures
Collapsed now with fall of time
Lost to mist as misadventures,
Disavowing child of mine.

Stranger still, with mind-set fading
Inheriting onset of pain
Forgotten now with cost evading
That, once proffered, lost to gain.
Caustic fortune teller ranting
Screaming forth “I told you so”
Where, in fact, advice dispersed
When, then, I told him where to go!
To and fro we swung to compass
Spun to reason’s child of chance
Life ambition’s lost accomplice
Fool adrift in fortune’s dance.

M.
Taranaki NZ
1 February 2016
Marshal Gebbie Jun 2014
Like signing on absynth in a fanfare of fashion
Is to take on ballast to flatter the crowd,
When the primary hallmark of singular cadence
Is to minimise ******* and shout it aloud.

Cocksure and crafty in colours of rainbow
Strutting your stuff on the red carpet’s fame,
Flicking the mane in a parody’s snigger
Is like hittin’ the town on the arm of a dame.

Walkin’ the walk in a welter of windfall
Like talkin’ the talk with the hipsters at hand
Like shootin’ the **** with a blonde on the pillow
Is like playin’ with fire when you don’t understand.

So go gather your pants and head for the hillside
Sit tight on the grass and ruminate well,
Sort out your crap in the filtering moonlight….
Try coming to terms with this day shot to hell.*

M.
Sandringham
14 June 2014
An attempt to ensnare the abrupt transitions of "American Hustle" using the glib idiom of todays "Kid Talk"...both a source of ongoing irritation to me.
M.
Marshal Gebbie 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
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 color bar installed?
Are there feelings of inadequacy
Has your darling not yet called?
Does your flaccid 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 NZ
28 July 2009
This work was, unbeknown to me, adopted and publicly orated before a school assembly in the USA by a High School student with a broken leg.
She wheeled herself across the stage on a skateboard whilst orating...and was rewarded with rapturous applause from her fellow students.
She sent me a video of the occasion....
and, strangely, I couldn't help myself, I wept great tears of gratitude.

[email protected]
Like links in a long chain. Encrusted links, green with lichen and moss.... Links extending from the instant of conception, right through to the moment of death. Patterned with pain and passion, forged in fire and frozen in the blueness of deep ice.

An encapsulation of all things relevant, an expression of the best and the very worst of this binding edifice that is life.

[email protected]
Acknowledgement of the soft words of wisdom in Sally Bayan's poem "We".
Marshal Gebbie Apr 2013
Dripping ***, she stood there, completely unaware
That every man about her had turned around to stare.
For in her nubile innocence and when her red lips smiled
She was causing utter mayhem as distracted drivers piled.
The Postmen stopped delivering, Policemen stood agape,
Conductors missed their trolleybus and Superman his cape!
…And as she sashayed down the street leaving bedlam in her wake
And all the while her red high heels were causing earth to shake,
Perambulating gracefully, impossibly demure,
She sauntered down the causeway, with a loveliness so pure.
Whilst just behind and following, a ravenous hot mob
Of nature’s gift to manhood, all slavering at the gob.
Quite suddenly with a swish of skirt she swirled about and laughed
At the frozen apparition there immobile and aghast.
Acutely frozen with embarrassment at having looked so ****** absurd
They all dispersed their different ways without a single word.
“Bye boys” she chortled, with a devilment in play
With flick of skirt and toss of hair she turned and walked away.
Ha!

Marshalg
Laughing to myself at the silly old mating game we play.
Pukehana Paradise
14 April 2013
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2015
Loneliness walks hand in hand
With he who strides the long way forth,
With he who walks the path alone
Through solitary’s East and North.
Firm his sinewed hand so strong
That steers the compassed vessel back
Bridging pitfall’s chasm wrong
Through deft manipulation’s track.
Guiding they who pledge good faith
To fall then, by the wayside, weak,
Then in bridging disappointment’s song
Instead, he helps them to their feet.
So long that night of solitude
With stark decision’s crucial stack
When none would share that brutal loading
Weighing solely on his back.
Lonely is my leader’s song
Lonely as his dying day,
Would that he could share a word
Who would understand his way?

M.
17 October 2015
Marshal Gebbie May 2011
Stringent to lilly livered
Toxic if afraid,
galling to goers
Who thrive on being brave,
Enthralling to observers
Who see finer tones,
And fatal to loiterers
With shrapnel in bones.
Loose lips in the war zone
An anathema to we
Who strive for control
In adversity.
Loose lips in the war zone
A systems relapse,
Which preceeds establishment's
Rapid collapse.


Marshalg
@the bach
11 May 2011
Marshal Gebbie May 2023
Heavy is the load, this day,
Much, the penalties to pay,
Poignant is the lingered taste,
Fraudulently masked in waste,
Hands that ache but seek to feel
The softness in her glance, that’s real.
Seek to touch the gentle face
Of she, who would deport with grace….
Would that I, in what is left,
Trust in what remains, bereft?

Wandering in halls of stone
Starkly feeling, so alone,
Echoes in these failing years
Of ghosts lamenting falling tears
In laugher lost amid the shroud
Of sunlight filtering through cloud,
Seek to touch her wrinkled smile
Invoking shades of love…. awhile.
Would that we now, so bereft,
Trust that, what remains…is left?

M@Foxglove,TaranakiNZ
May 28 2023
Marshal Gebbie Mar 2013
Hail to Caesar now, Zeig Heil
Noble Eagle Standard flies,
Schutzstaffel in midnight legion
Disciplined long stabbing knives.
Heil to goose stepped march precision
Noble Eagle Standard soars,
Centurian’s in closed division
Screaming stukas strafe azores.
Fist to leather armour snapping
Stiff arms high in thronged salute,
Hail to Caesar sing the Legions
Zeig Heil Waffen SS brute.
Discipline of Shield defences
Stabbing lances follow swords
Clouds of arrows fill the heaven
Dachau’s ovens roast the hoards.
Winged Aquila flies the column
Wielded high as Roman’s would,
Black and white with red blood running
Swastikas where Jews once stood.
Europe caste in corpses rotting
Women screaming in the land,
Deutsch and Roman locked forever
Destroyers both, in history’s hand.*


Marshalg
In response to Anselm’s “Two Translations”
25 March 2013
On a cool and dry Autumn afternoon.
Marshal Gebbie Feb 2010
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
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2011
When she left my  moonlight died
Laughter left my face and cried,
Memories became my dreams
In fitful, aching, silent screams.
When she left tomorrow fled
Writhing in my sleepless bed,
Now she’s gone her smile, so wry,
I glimpse as young girls pass me by.
When she left my light went dim
With dreadful numbing from within,
Now she’s gone I catch her scent
In every rose that may relent.
Now she’s gone my life’s a shell
In every moment's empty hell,
When she left the moonlight cried
Laughter left my face and died.

Marshalg
For every love that left.
15 July 2011
Marshal Gebbie Dec 2009
Tall men think of robust ladies
Shorter ladies dream of length,
Toothless people fantasize
Of mandibles of white, bright strength.
Porcine women lust for thinness
Breast less girlies long for *****,
Dissatisfaction fills the air
It's greener grass or down the tubes.

Black man hopes for pale complexion
White girls bake to raise a tan,
Brown eyed lassie's envy blue-ness,
***** lesbian's, a man.
The wealthy want the easy life
Beggars yearn for cash,
Dissatisfaction's in the air
And mirrors are so trash.

Across the human spectrum far
Mankind wants for more,
The grass is always greener
Looking through another door.
It's bigger, better, brighter, best
The quest is always there
Relentlessly pursued with glee,
Bright eyes and bushy hair.

Results are mixed and varied here
Some reach the holy grail
To watch it slip beyond their grasp
Then founder, fall and fail.
Some teeter on a platform,
Some grasp the prize and run,
Some hit their stride at bounding pace
To see the contest won.

But by and large there's misery
Few climb the road to joy,
Frustration be my brother
Dissatisfaction be my ploy.
Limitation is our lot in life.
Our secret to success
Is to love the mirror warts and all
All other **** ...repress !!

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
23 December 2009
www.worthyofpublishing.com
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2014
Tall men think of robust ladies
Shorter ladies dream of length,
Toothless people fantasize
Of mandibles of white, bright strength.
Porcine women lust for thinness
Breast less girlies long for *****,
Dissatisfaction fills the air
It's greener grass or down the tubes.

Black man hopes for pale complexion
White girls bake to raise a tan,
Brown eyed lassie's envy blue-ness,
***** lesbian's, a man.
The wealthy want the easy life
Beggars yearn for cash,
Dissatisfaction's in the air
And mirrors are so trash.

Across the human spectrum far
Mankind wants for more,
The grass is always greener
Looking through another door.
It's bigger, better, brighter, best
The quest is always there
Relentlessly pursued with glee,
Bright eyes and bushy hair.

Results are mixed and varied here
Some reach the holy grail
To watch it slip beyond their grasp
Then founder, fall and fail.
Some teeter on a platform,
Some grasp the prize and run,
Some hit their stride at bounding pace
To see the contest won.

But by and large there's misery
Few climb the road to joy,
Frustration be my brother
Dissatisfaction be my ploy.
Limitation is our lot in life.
Our secret to success
Is to love the mirror warts and all
All other **** ...suppress !!


M.
Marshal Gebbie Mar 2015
Q: Doctor, I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Heart only good for so many beats, and that it... Don't waste on exercise. Everything wear out eventually. Speeding up heart not make you live longer; it like saying you extend life of car by driving faster. Want to live longer? Take nap.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake? ...
A: Oh no. Wine made from fruit. Fruit very good. Brandy distilled wine, that mean they take water out of fruity bit so you get even more of goodness that way. Beer also made of grain. Grain good too. Bottom up!

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can't think of one, sorry. My philosophy: No pain...good!

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU NOT LISTENING! Food fried in vegetable oil. How getting more vegetable be bad?

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: You crazy?!? HEL-LO-O!! Cocoa bean! Another vegetable! It best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming good for figure, explain whale to me.

Q: Is getting in shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! 'Round' is shape!

Well... I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.

And remember:

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO-HOO, what a ride!!"

AND......

For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.

1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Brits.
2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Brits.
3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Brits.
4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Brits.
5. The Germans drink a lot of beer and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Brits.

CONCLUSION: Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.


Concocted (for a sort of reconciliation)   ...for our weekly fatty club weigh in.

Ha!
M.
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2017
Insincerity is paramount if worn with cap in hand
It’s spread about with great largess by the leaders of this land,
Hand shake’s calculating eye with stern demeanour set
Engaged with alacrity as duplicity’s are met.
******* by the dray load is fed to all by they
Who could not lay down straight in bed whilst on a Bible say….
That what is said is what is meant and what is meant is right
That promises to the other guy mean nought when out of sight.
That candour is forgotten here, that honesty is lost,
And the ranting heard on prime time feed is rationalised at cost!

Oh! for just a moment’s pause, a quiet moment spent,
In frank and honest discourse where both sides can relent
To share a candid, mutual trust…a thing, these days, so rare
That thunder bolts may rend the sky,
Dare we… to venture there.

Marshalg
After witnessing the disgraceful façade of accord enacted by the key players on Trump’s recent odyssey to Asia.
14 November 2017
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2021
Would've if we could've
But lust has a cost,
Shouldnt've and wouldnt've
Until trust was lost,
Contemptibly, preemptively
We forced it at first
Predictably, restrictively
Left in the lurch,
Precisely, concisely
The sneer pulled it down
Impeccably, delectably
Turned laughter to frown
Conclusively, Intrusively
We both spat the dum
Then Sadder but gladder
Decided to run.

You sprinted East and I legged it West
Both relieved to be free
Devolved and absolved now,  
Both, contemptible we!

M.
North Queensland
1968
Some you win, some you lose
Only the wise effectively choose.
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2012
The regions’ magic carpets are a-beckoning
The brassware in the back bazaars aglow,
Exotic spice is nice
For a very reasonable price
And the camel market’s just the place to go.


But…


Afghanistan’s dark Muslims are scheming
The women folk are sharpening their knives,
When foreign troops depart
The bloodletting will start
With collaborators screaming for their lives.


The children of the Ottoman are smarting
For their neighbours are showing them disdain
By peppering with bombs
Along with Syria’s pogroms
And I wonder why the local folk complain?


Oh the sun comes up with glory in old Egypt
As another national leader meets demise
And old Nasser’s bile will burn
As from his grave he will return
To try to rectify his children’s Holy lies.


There are whispers of  a strike at the reactor.
There are reactionary reactions from Iran
With annulment of the bomb
The region should resume aplomb
But I have my doubts this mixture really can.


And it never rains on dear old dusty Cairo,
Here, you never feel the chill of falling snow,
You may stalk the back bazaars
For the rare blue water jars
But you should really buy protection when you go.



And they whinge that all the tourists here are dwindling
That the middle Eastern charm is all but spent,
When the red blood flows like wine
In the good old Bhyzantine
As the peace of night, with gunfire, is wrent.


But…


The dates are really sweet
And the carpetry so neat
And the music is exotic in the night,
And with the flash of Asian eyes
I can guarantee surprise
As you flee for very life…with ****** fright!


Marshalg
From the dark Bazaar
23 October 2012

© 2012 Marshal Gebbie
Marshal Gebbie Apr 2015
Coronation of a Princess
To elevate a Queen,
To raise aloft a Monarch
Who shall rule to seem as seen,
Who shall treat with due decorum
Her loyal subjects and her Crown
And adjudicate all personal preference,
Severely, not to let them down.
She shall marry into Royalty
Thence to breed a stately brood
Who shall tread the path of unctuousness
Avoiding steps into the rude.
Her decisions shall be just and fair
Her politics unseen
And whilst riding with nobility
Her associations shall be clean.
For she is known now as “Her Majesty”
And as such, she shall remain
Aloof from all conjecture,
And removed from callow fame.
Forever worshipped as our Monarch
And though imprisoned by her scene,
Imperially shall her smile shine bright
When sung….”God Save the Queen”.

God Save the Queen!
M.
27 April 2015
Marshal Gebbie Jun 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
Marshal Gebbie Feb 2010
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
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2020
They came and went some time ago
Left their imprint deep in snow
To flare through history's dawn to dusk
In massive curvature of tusk,
Vast woolly flank in shaggy pelt.
An intelligence, expressly felt,
Of sadness in the way of man
Whose savagery of intellect, would plan,
A woefulness of short insight
In determining the Woolly Mammoth's plight!

Like the candle's brief, bright flare
Great herds, once roamed, no longer there,
Majesty's lost innocence
Now extinguished in intransigence.

M.
Foxglove
Taranaki, New Zealand
11 July 2020
Marshal Gebbie Feb 2013
Manacled the hands
Which intertwine with one another now,
Hands that come to grip with issues
Locked within the soul, somehow.

Manacled, the hands that hold her
Manacled in blood and bone,
Hold the baby’s head so gently
Veined and scarred with love intoned.

Hands of strength that strike the anvil
Shape the shoe to fit the hoof
Hold the stallion’s head commanding
Strong control to stay aloof.

Hands that wield the sword of vengeance
Hands that feed the wood to fire,
Work the field with ox and plough
Stroke her body to desire.

Veinous hands, so strong and calloused
Locked within his every day,
Hands that clap to merry music
Hands that to the piper pay.

Hunter hands to snare the rabbit
Catch the carp in yonder lake,
Pen the words of love to paper
Knead the dough of bread to bake.

Quiet hands that rest in evening
Sitting by the fireside,
Listening to the snoring hounds
Which on the mat, asleep, reside.

Manacled, these hands, he ponders
Locked within the ways of sin,
Reminiscent recollection
…Quiet smile on whiskered chin.

Fingers cooled in fresh spring water
Feel the rays of rising sun,
Stride across the purple heather
These hands, a goodly day begun.

Marshalg
FOXGLOVE, Taranaki.
4.20am 17 February 2013

© 2013 Marshal Gebbie
Marshal Gebbie Jun 2011
Lines of life through gene transmission
When handed down through *****,
Tho’ rugged, sound or sickly matched,
Are caste about like coins.
Luck ensures a robust chance
Of longevity and health
With intelligence or dolt hood
As a final gauge to wealth.

Traits of blue eyed, fair haired lovelies
Brown eyed, freckled, long of limb,
Temperaments across the spectrum
Placid fat to fiery slim.
Aptitude to run the long race
Good endurance, depth of heart,
Lady luck decrees their worth
Tho' the Priesthood may depart.

Frontal lobes of clear retention
Heightened rationale of thought,
Reasons through the problematic,
Resolutions made as ought.
Capacity to empathise
In tears of joy and sorrow spent,
Capacity for true belief
When wrong is righted with repent.

Goodness and black evil
Are caste about like chaff,
Depends upon the show of cards
Who laughs the final laugh.
Conscience can be virtuous
But then, so can be greed,
Depends upon the circumstance
And if approached at speed.

And finally indulgence
Plays a massive hand in this,
For love and lust determine
If a union is remiss.
And should that union founder,
Should Lady Luck throw in her hand
...You can blame it on the chromosomes
Which confounds the Makers stand!


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
14 June 2011
Brilliance of a deep blue sky
Whipped about on high
Mare's tails in their latticed way
Spray across my sky.
Wind aloft and rising
In its wild mercurial fling
Driving cavalcades of galloping
White mares to offering....
A magnificence on high
In a quotative display,
Stampeding into vastness,
To illuminate my day.

[email protected]
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2013
She sat astride the stool in silence
Watching how the mayflies flew,
Symmetry in chaos painting
Colour’s gentle strokes anew.
Felt the touch of evening breezes
catch the tendrils of her hair
Watching mayflies rise and fall
through symmetry, without a care.
Promise fills the moment’s magic
Hope is pounding through her breast,
Mayflies rise and fall in sunlight
Love’s anticipation best.
Scattered light intrudes through leafage
Casting sunspots in the shade,
Mayflies rise and fall in sunshine
Tranquil peace of mind is made.
Softly a guitar is strumming
Melding with the lakeside air,
Rendezvous with him a-coming
Mayflies rise to empty chair.
Mayflies rise and fall in sunshine
Rise and fall...and they don’t care.

Marshalg
‘Foxglove’ Taranaki
3 January 2013
She sat astride the stool in silence
Watching how the mayflies flew,
Symmetry in chaos painting
Colour’s gentle strokes anew.
Felt the touch of evening breezes
catch the tendrils of her hair
Watching mayflies rise and fall
through symmetry, without a care.
Promise fills the moment’s magic
Hope is pounding through her breast,
Mayflies rise and fall in sunlight
Love’s anticipation best.
Scattered light intrudes through leafage
Casting sunspots in the shade,
Mayflies rise and fall in sunshine
Tranquil peace of mind is made.
Softly a guitar is strumming
Melding with the lakeside air,
Rendezvous with him a-coming
Mayflies rise to empty chair.

Mayflies rise and fall in twilight
Rise and fall...and they don’t care.

M
January 2013
For dear Guy Scutellaro and his utterly perfect
"The Evening's Gentle Embrace".
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2010
Cabana, cheese and mustard sauce
Do grace the tablecloth,
White puffy clouds and warm south breeze
And joy in chilled beer's froth.
Hot sun doth bake these stony walls
Sweet mandolins do play,
And the pigeons peck at breadcrumbs caste.
And all fares well today.

Young darting men on Vespa's
Ply their arrogant good looks,
And those stunning senoritas
Strut their stuff while momma cooks.
Monsignors in scarlet robes
Do scurry through the town
Dispensing Catholic action
To any soul who is around.

Madonna's guard the roadside shrines
Where hot seal winds aloft
Toward the craggy mountain pass
And pastured alpine croft.
The peasant woman bends her spine
Trudging forth with strain,
Wood ******* piled upon her back,
Up hillward bound with pain.

Old men sit and ruminate
And watch the young girls pass,
Whilst nursing dark retsina
In an opaque thimble glass.
The olive trees look stately
In their crooked ancient way,
And cast a darkened shadow
Where the roosting chicken's lay.

And out across the mounded hills
The patchwork quilt of farm
And out beyond that deep azure
Of Italian coastal charm.
Seaward to horizon
The aqua blue intense
Extends as far as eye can see
Mediterranean immense.


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
23 January 2010
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2010
Across the ice a baritone
Projects his notes of steel,
A tenor’s harmonizing
Adds that melancholy feel
And the glory of the voices
Flows out through alders bare
And the listeners weep for Russia’s soul
And the tragedy found there.


The tragic melancholy
Found in every Russian heart
Liberated by the sadness
A fine harmony can impart.
Of the monolithic yesterdays,
Those forgotten fields of dead
And that fire within the *****
Which numbs the agony of the head.


Dark stains along the timber wall
Wood fire’s stones make steam
It fills the room with stifling heat
Which sweats the bodies clean.
Red wheals raised on shoulders
Birch branches whip the back
Whilst companion tones of maleness
Speak in vectors women lack.


Red larches in the foothills
Gold lantern light on snow,
The vastness of ancient steppes
Of Central Asia grow.
A viola’s velvet passion
Sighs beneath a cottage door
And the sadness in sensation
Brings grown men to weep once more.


The vastness of the terrain
The hardness of the land,
The bitter cold of northern wind,
Each freezing winter spanned
By Siberia’s lashing gales,
White snow is metres deep
And turquois ice as hard as steel
Beneath which... rivers creep.


Dostoyevsky,Kruschev,
Rasputin and the Tsars,
Great Lenin, Marx and Trotsky
And the swords of Horse Hussars.
Gorbachev the great redeemer,
Poor Yeltsin’s pale white skin
And the ****** found in Stalin's smile
Span the politics of sin.


This great Russian melancholy
Lies deep within the soul
It’s a legacy of yesterday
Of her history's brutal goal.
It’s a product of the suffering
Inherent in the past
Endured by legions of the people
Then  dispensed with…
With a laugh!

  

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
13 April 2009
Marshal Gebbie May 2010
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
Marshal Gebbie Sep 2016
A moment in the multitude
In that instant gem of time
When something immensely precious shone
An exquisite blue light
When then, you and I waltzed to the music as one
And sweet time stood still.

M.
RIP Flute
2014
Marshal Gebbie Jun 2020
Vortices of liquid fire
Fill my soul with raw desire,
****** my need for time with you,
Abruptly, to cognoscente view.
Abruptly, as to pause the day
To take my shortened breath away.
How your vision, in my eye,
Consumes me... as this vaulting sky
Erupts in towered halls of flame...
To paint your lovely smile, again.

M.
5th June 2020
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2020
Curious and vexing how one days verse is so wrong
Yet that of the day prior, is so right?
How the fixation of the day tempers the phrase
Yet a moments reflection can, and does,
Alter the whole considerations' perspective.

Damnable this vacillation of the mind
Contrary in its moments of prominence.
Priorities sliding from one inception to the next
Depending on the vagaries of mood swing
Or something as incidental, as the casual happenings of the day.

Bringing us all allocations of vexation and joy,
Depending on the inflection, depending on the hue.
Each moment of each day is anointed its own crystal prism
Opportunity and inspiration, of stimulus to capture the phrase,
**** it...   To coin that manifest creation....or to not.

M.
22 August 2020
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2009
Dedicated to the Hard Hats, ..for holding it all together.


**** frost on the green grass
There's a cold moon in the sky
The estuary waters black and calm
Where golden ripples lie.
Dawn's horizon lightens up
Bright stars begin to dim
Hard Hats all arrive for work
And with frozen breath...log in.


Work boots crunching on the stone
The men disperse to trucks,
The diesel motors roar to life
Their departures forming rucks.
Swarming in the morning light
Each to his own job's task,
Bridge building work underway
As dawn's first sunbeams bask.


Amazing the complexity
That building bridges has,
Amazing how voraciously
It eats up time and gas.
The planning and design work
The funding of supply,
Those organizational matters
And the labour standing bye.


Digging, lifting, shoving, shifting
Moving this to there,
A logistical nightmare
For the novice, unaware.
Steel and timber by the ton
Concrete pours en mass,
Gravel, sand and aggregate
And reservoirs of gas.



Procurement of supply ensures
A smooth transitional flow
Of successive small procedures
To make the project mesh and grow.
Day after day the massive trucks
Carting tons of sand
Are authorized by gate men
To unload on to land
Where motorway construction
Is steadfastly taking place
And progressing at
A gradual and steady building pace.



From concept to completion
A million multitasks,
Which involves a caste of thousands
And a schedule which asks,
That the finished installation
Be completed by the time
Of the Rugby World Cup kickoff,
Our global status on the line.


Like ants the Hard Hats swarm about
Each does his little bit
And gradually, over time,
The bridge emerges from the pit.
It emergeth like a phoenix
In a drab and sombre gown
But on completion, shines like fire
To be the nation's most re known.


The Manukau Harbour Crossing
A project for the Gods,
Of massive lengths of concrete
And miles of reinforcing rods.
Of an eternity of effort
From everyone involved
And an asset for New Zealand
And a beauty to behold.


Marshalg
@theGate
MHX
Mangere Bridge
14th March 2009

Please view the following link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzQZ-M90Zig
Marshal Gebbie Jun 2015
Recep Tayip Erdogan though Turkish to the core
Has loathing in his Turkish heart, ferocity and more
For the secular insanity’s of Bashar Al Assad
Determines chaos at his border with warring Syria is bad.
With incursions by the Kurdish to the ISIS foe at hand
And the umbrage taken by the Kurds at Turkey’s open border stand,
Where ISIS can permeate both back and forth at will
Allowing freedom for Jihadists, now, to raid, behead and ****.
Europe visualize this menace at their doorstep as a threat
But Turkey, playing both sides, leaves NATO, now side stepped.
Where our friends become our enemies and enemies our friends.
In this Middle East miasma ..... confusion never ends.

M.
27 June 2015
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2023
Whilst across the timeless seas to the bottom of the planet, incessant rain, snow and thrashing wind has rendered pugged cow paddocks, grassless.

Stored woodpiles, depleted due to wood fires burning continuously in hearths across the nation.

Small children, woolied up running for the morning school bus, white chilly faces and pink flushed cheeks.

Surf pounds the black sand dunes with foam flying in the gale, the marram grass howls and seagulls, flying in tortured formation, shriek their mutual rage.

Midwinter is upon us.

[email protected]
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2011
Starlings fly in silver sky
Bullfinch in the dry grass sings,
Emerald teal in tandem fly
Explosively on phosphor wings.
Miracles are in the air
Golden sun in evening glow,
Marigolds of orange flair,
With lavender, in patchwork grow.

Sap is flowing in the wood
bursting buds of olive greens,
Winter flees as winter should
Whilst bubbling brook transform to streams
Miracles are in the air
Colour rich in reddish hues,
Greens of fresh lime , aqua flair
Spring arrives in vivid views.

Silk striations lace the sky
With molten, mackerel clouds of gold,
Evening chill for you and I
Suggest we snuggle close to hold.
Miracles are in the air
A Moonrise breaks horizon’s door,
Hugely round with craters bare
We laugh with joy and seek for more.

Tantalizing night upon us
Stars ignite the heaven's fire,
Black as pitch with jewelled Adonis
Hot white pinpoints of desire.
Miracles are in the air
Passion in the blood doth boil,
Moonlight through her silver hair
Exquisite as blue fire on oil.


Marshalg
@thebach
29 August 2011
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2018
Clouds in shrouds and thoughts aloud
Entice you far too soon,
For she who thumbs unseemly sums
Contributes to the gloom.
Chasing pleasures caustic measures
Risking all to play,
Ensures the visions quick incision
Forfeits what you say.
For thee, my sweet, this game complete
Enhances what you are,
To soar so high in crystal sky
Emblazons you....a Star!
M.
Reaction to Miss J L Smiths' searching little poem "In the Clouds"
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2024
Passive as it flows
My girl
The word, in truth
Belaboured and Incisive....
And it knows....
How many out there
Actually,
Grace it with a smile
Whilst, in bland actuality, they
Subconsciously revile
The cutting nature
Of the incideous tone,
And the ever present, verbal,
Hyroglyphics of its throne.

Join those swept aside by fashion
Emblazoned in the act of being "woke"
By ostracizing they, the brutes,
With the temerity to "Invoke"
The harsh opinions and circumstance
Which lash out to offend?
When actually, if you think about it,
We , inevitably,  
Comute to, in the end.

I s'pose we have our favourites,
S'pose we have our cliques,
And I guess the risk of slumming it
Aligns us with the "*****"?
Aligns we with the heathen souls
Who loiter by the way
Annointing those poor Godless few
Who then once....
Deigned to Pray.

[email protected]
31 Jan 2024
Chewing the fat with the ancient Pachyderm who dwells nearby with his equally ancient, wrinkled handler.
Marshal Gebbie May 2014
Fleetingly, in passing
A tremor of her lip, I see,
An anxiousness about the way she moves her eyes, averted now
And smoothes her dress as if to say…”How can this be ?”
Quietly so, in shadows, so anxiously.
Alone, so alone amidst the surging crowd…
Who throng, unaware of the quiet agony of she,
She who sits so quietly in shadow all alone….
Completely unaware the throng
And they, untouched,
Opaquely, move along
For they don’t care.
They don't care.

M.
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2009
The monetary balance has gone crazy
In this world we call our home,
The fiscal market's shot to hell
Stock collapsing like a stone.
The hedge deals are un sellable
Most banks refuse to loan
Good real estate is valueless
The roof's a "Plummet Zone".

Oh yes the suits are stepping out for air
And falling like a stone,
Termination of their worries
Beats explanations on the phone.
There's always a dependable
To help clean up the place,
And oblivion's a better option
Than awkward questions and disgrace.

Capitulating companies,
Whole nations in default
The piggy banks are bulging
With the greenbacks from the vault.
The banks refuse to part with cash
Lines of depositors do queue
And the finance houses shut their doors
Explaining, briefly, "Well...*******!"

Heads of Government meet and talk
The photo ops are really grand,
Banner headlines in the daily's
Report resolutions that seem bland.
The fanfare and the hoopla
Announce the remedy is payoffs....
And global confidence is sprinting
For the trees...In panicked chaos!

But the C.E.O's are catered for
Their future is secure,
There's several million tucked away
In the Cayman Island tour.
Unfortunate about the desolation left behind
But these things are bound to happen
When the blind do lead the blind.

There will be some opportunities,
Some bargains coming up
And the prudent keep the check book close
For when the number's up...
Of all those struggling little people
Who bravely slave away
And collapse before they realize
Their firm's capacity to pay.

So What's around the corner?
Do we hide our heads in sand?
Do we kiss our **** goodbye
And join the suits in splatter land?
Or do we bravely hoist our trousers
Hitch our belts another notch,
And convince ourselves that someone
Higher up has got the watch
And the ability to work out
What the hell is going on..
And deliver us from evil
Before the world is ****** gone?


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge.
8th October 2008
Marshal Gebbie Sep 2013
My lifetime as a little boy
Was filled with mystery and toy,
With fantasy I filled my head
So when I climbed the stairs to bed,
Imagined I that phantoms dwelt
In every shadow dark and svelt,
In every nook and cranny there
Beyond the landing up the stair.

Clutching hard my teddy bear
I conjoured courage, stared a glare
And crept with stealth from step to step
With hearth in mouth and holding breath,
Big eyes round and tippy toes,
'Cos mother said one never knows.....

Something sudden, quick and black
I jumped with fright and staggered back
Furry skin and almond eyes
I gasped, alarmed, in wild surprise
A gorilla on the landing sat ????
...Oh! weak relief....it's just the cat.

M.
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