I wanted to be there for Parsnips but time and  money availability have precluded it from happening. I cannot make it down for the funeral.

I f you would please pass on the following few words for me.

Parsnips was my mate, He was the epitome of a man from a different age.
He was wild and intense, dark of mood  and definite of opinion.

He was poetry in motion astride a good jumping mare, many a time I have seen him clear a seven wire fence with a good foot of daylight to spare.
His understanding of equine mentality approached that of witchcraft. He was capable of anticipating the  lashing hoof before the horse had formulated the thought, much less put it into action. He had NO patience with intemperate horseflesh. Many a frisky animal had second thoughts of misbehaviour after they had worn the thick end of a coarse rasp at close quarters.
Parsnip’s work was artistry, he was truly... one of the GREAT farriers.

The end of the working day would see Parsnips drown his sorrows in the demon ***.
This was the emergence of the dark soul who cast about for answers to impossible questions, who wallowed in the unhappiness of his failed horizons and the bitterness of his life’s disappointments. My mate Parsnips was not the easiest man to know in his dark moments. But a mate is a mate... you take the good with the bad.

And there were a lot of really good times... when a happy Parsnips had laughter in his eyes and a flash of excitement in his demeanour. I recall one such time when, on a wild rafting trip on a rampaging, flooded Mohaka river, The raft was marooned on a jammed stump in the midst of violent huge killer white water. Parsnips hung off a rope and with a look of wild joy on his face announced to his flabbergasted mates...”And I can’t even ****** swim a stroke!... fantastic. Needless to say he survived the trip and loved every moment of it.

I called to spend the afternoon with him a short time ago at the Rest Home. This was a shadow of the Parsnips I had once known. He was completely disillusioned with the hand fate had dealt him. He saw no future to speak of... He wanted out.
So I must say that I am not entirely surprised with the way things have materialised.
Parsnips usually arranged the system to get things the way he wanted them.

I grieve for the loss of my wild, intense mate, God knows there are few enough of them left.
Real people who live life in the black and white way.
Definite personalities who, for the good or for the bad, never ever leave you in any doubt as to where they stand in the way of things.

Fare well my old friend, I leave you with these words.

The Winds of Life
by Marshal Gebbie

The wind careers across the years
Gathering leaves and dust,
Sweeping lives before it
In cartwheels of redness and rust.
Epiphanous moments of magnitude
Through special occasions employ
The will o the wisp of everyday stuff
From sadness to anger to joy.

The billowing tumble of living
Through vaulting halls of trees
In the dappled light of sunshine
And green corridors of breeze.
The exquisiteness of living
When senses soar in the air
When the colours of being are rampant
And we savour each moment with care.

For the living time goes quickly
It flares and fades with speed,
‘Tis best enjoyed boisterously
With passion, love and need;
‘Tis best when tasted piquantly
Like a claret on the tongue
When you cloak the days with good things
And you hope your dreams die young.

Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
29th January 2009

The wind careers across the years
Gathering leaves and dust,
Sweeping lives before it
In cartwheels of redness and rust.
Epiphanous moments of magnitude
Through special occasions employ
The will o the wisp of everyday stuff
From sadness to anger to joy.

The billowing tumble of living
Through vaulting halls of trees
In the dappled light of sunshine
And green corridors of breeze.
The exquisiteness of living
When senses soar in the air
When the colours of being are rampant
And we savour each moment with care.

For the living time goes quickly
It flares and fades with speed,
‘Tis best enjoyed boisterously
With passion, love and need;
‘Tis best when tasted piquantly
Like a claret on the tongue
When you cloak the days with good things
And you hope your dreams die young.

Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
29th January 2009

The rage I feel
At the loss of one so fine!
So young, so lovely, so calm, so together...so KIM!

I rage at the turbulent waters that stole her promise.
I rage at the annals of  chance which paved the way to her end.
I rage for the agony I see on the face of her father, her lover, friends and work mates.
I rage for the tears and heartbreak of my darling wife who loved this girl as a sister, since her days of skinny
childhood.
I rage for the missed moments of tomorrow’s laughter which will now, never be...
and the vacuum of fun in her words of dry humour, which will now, never be uttered.

I share this rage with ALL OF  YOU!...because the death of this beautiful young girl IS JUST NOT RIGHT!

But I DO CELEBRATE the GIFT of the PLEASURE experienced in sharing her vibrant, living years.

There is, however,  a wonderment here amidst the tragedy...
Because Kim voluntarily bequeathed the gift of hope to unknown others.
She gave three unknown people her organs, her heart, her kidneys, her cornea.
SHE GAVE THEM THE PROMISE OF A TOMORROW!

Her beautiful heart lives on in the soul of another...and for this I give thanks.

THE WINDS OF LIFE
by Marshal Gebbie

The wind careers across the years
Gathering leaves and dust,
Sweeping lives before it
In cartwheels of redness and rust.
Epiphanous moments of magnitude
Through special occasions employ
The will o the wisp of everyday stuff
From sadness to anger to joy.

The billowing tumble of living
Through vaulting halls of trees
In the dappled light of sunshine
And green corridors of breeze.
The exquisiteness of living
When senses soar in the air
When the colours of being are rampant
And we savour each moment with care.

For the living time goes quickly
It flares and fades with speed,
‘Tis best enjoyed boisterously
With passion, love and need;
‘Tis best when tasted piquantly
Like a claret on the tongue
When you cloak the days with good things
And you hope your dreams die young.

Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
29th January 2009

Tryouts starring musical prodigies 
and/or an attendant conductor
attempt to approach ambient chorus
divinely exhibited from Gaia's handiwork
heavenly invoking kapellmeister's
magnificent nonchalant outlook
piquantly, quintessentially, repertoire sensately striking
unmatched vast wisdom yielding, zephyr air albeit creativity
engineered from groundswell harmony
juxtaposed, kindled, linkedin,
manifesting noteworthy opulent philharmonic recording
transcribing universal veritable webbed wide world.

Wunderkinds yield Ziggurat acme approximated asymptote
bequeathing celestial Doppelganger Earthly emulations
formulating fractal glinting highlighting
ineffable joie de vivre jostling, keen kindling,
la la land legerdemain lifting logic
lording Ludwig (Josef Johann) Wittgenstein.


Yelping zoological apostle Al affidavit Gore handily
heaping hubristically invocation jolting kickstart measures
nipping nixed noblesse oblige opera 
quickening quotidian rapid ruination sans supreme
teetering upended venerated wise with acumen
arithmetical Benoit Mandelbrot
chasing far-fetched ideas 
lightyears menacing nihilism purging ogres opportunistically  
resplendently ripping revered tankard tipping unstoppably
vanquishing varietal whipsawing wonderfully
wrapt yawning  youngsters
warfare written wrought
yanking zestfully crushing environmental family
granting Herculean instant karma
malevolent, opprobrious pronouncement
quiet riot silencing severely tragic ubiquitous vicious wreckage
yikyaks apemen cleft Earth.

***************

Future foragers denounce capitalistic bamboozlers aggression
zealots wrought trashing quintessential naked kingdoms issue
flotsam coagulates zonal wastelands torquing quality NON
killing habitats Earth bleached yellowed voodoo ruins.

The following initially crafted approximately three and a half years ago and presently brought a  much sought after surge of satisfaction while meandering along the information superhighway.

Panglossian Perspective
Pivoting Poze Pretentiously

Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading par excellent paragon
parent (parenthetically parochial
particularly partisan) parvenu
passive, passionately paternalistically patient,

paunchy, peaceably pepped, perfectionist,
perceptive, perennially perky, permissively
persevering, persistently personable,
perspicuous, pertinent, phenomenally philanthropic, philharmonic

picturesquely pious, pioneering, piquantly pithy,
playfully pleasant, pleasurably plucky, plummy,
poetically poignant, politely pontificating, popular,
positively potent, powerfully practiced pragmatist,

praiseworthy, prayerfully precious, precise
predominant, preeminently preferable, preparedly
preponderant, presently president, prestigiously
prevailing, priceless, princely, principally pristine,

privately privileged, prized,
proactively procreative,
prodigiously productive, proficiently profitable,
progressively prominent, promisingly prompt,
prophetically propitious, prospectively protective,
proudly proven provocative,
prudently psyched, puissant,
punctilious, punctually purposeful pygmy.

Beside your window
Beside the water
Beneath those dark stars
Beneath the martyrs

I think of purpose
I think of power
In poignant remorse
Piquantly sour

In your yard it seems to rise
The ephemeral cadence of surprise
When he appears with baffled eyes
The life before him another prize

Atop the glowing grass you lay
Under the melody of the play
Of a loose guitar and drummer’s way
With the tunes and tones of a summer’s day

Yet I am here
Yet I am away
A piece of you
Unwelcome, afraid

Now apart
Now a fiend
My once sweet life
Under siege

The lights that glimmer and dance for you
They warm the past and present too
Nothing’s decrepit, nothing askew
And the only color unplayed is blue

Crystal collides and inhibitions calm
In glee and grandeur you carry on
What lasts awhile, but not too long
Is preserved in yet another song

Dare I advance
Dare I say,
“May I join you,
May I stay?”

But I have dared enough today
Dared to leave and dared to return
I have dared my whole life away
Far too fractured to finally learn

Must you, God, cast me aside?
I have listened, I have tried!
Anguish forced me from this place
Return me, Father, in somber grace!

What good are these ears if I cannot hear you!
What save this mouth from uselessness?
My flesh and fingers seek to be near you
As I reach in this black night for blessedness!

Despite my quite audacious plea
Lakeside, I now need memory
To fool my mind and body as one
Into knowing I am still your son

Yet here I left you so here I must be
Only just beside your pictures of me
Only just beside our family name
Only just beside my battered grave.

Mental health of yours truly
heavily reliant upon one selective serotonin
reuptake inhibitor named fluoxetine (Prozac)
aside from countless
(approximately seven) other
prescription medications kept
stashed in a plastic tray
until one or more taken at least once
or at most three times daily.

The wife flush with grand ideas
to gleefully, playfully,
and zestfully pester me
dreamt up a new fangled game,
whereat she moves
fast as greased lightning
thunderously laughing
her dexterous hands
airing maneuvering feints,
either replacing and/or removing
drug containers;
(some with caps prone
to pop off with relative ease
versus others with child protective covers
even though our progeny -
deux darling daughters -
long since emotionally, financially
and spiritually fending for themselves).

Though childlike said antics
exhibited courtesy the wife
analogous magician eliciting "****"
prestidigitation her wrist flicks
her reputation to wield
sinister magical powers rife
as a graduate of Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
she ranked as an outsize force
with legacy legerdemain legion
instantaneously kickstarting
irreversible incantation
finding me transformed
into a nasty, short and brutish oaf
with little spindleshanks -
think toothpicks for legs -
reigned on from tempest in a teapot
while seeking cover under
lee side tulip tree leaf
comfortably numb nestled within kloof.

All around me
symphonic quiescent overture – heard
maestro Kant imitate
tryouts starring musical prodigies
and/or an attendant conductor
attempt to approach ambient chorus
divinely exhibited from Gaia's handiwork
heavenly invoking kapellmeister
magnificent nonchalant outlook
piquantly, quintessentially,
repertoire sensately striking
unmatched vast wisdom
yielding zephyr air albeit creativity
engineered from groundswell harmony
juxtaposed, kindled, linkedin,
manifesting noteworthy
opulent philharmonic recording
transcribing universal
veritable webbed wide world.

Wunderkinds yield Ziggurat
acme approximated asymptote
bequeathing celestial
Doppelganger Earthly emulations
formulating fractal glinting highlighting
ineffable joie de vivre jostling, keen kindling,
la la land legerdemain lifting logic
lording Ludwig (Josef Johann) Wittgenstein.


Yelping zoological apostle
Al affidavit Gore handily
heaping hubristically invocation
jolting kickstart measures
nipping nixed noblesse oblige opera
quickening quotidian
rapid ruination sans supreme
teetering upended venerated wise with acumen
arithmetical Benoit Mandelbrot
chasing far-fetched ideas
lightyears menacing nihilism
purging ogres opportunistically  
resplendently ripping
revered tankard tipping unstoppably
vanquishing varietal whipsawing
wonderful wrapt yawning  youngsters
warfare written wrought  
yanking zestfully crushing environmental family
granting Herculean instant karma
malevolent, opprobrious pronouncement
quiet riot silencing severely
tragic ubiquitous vicious wreckage
yik yaks apemen cleft Earth.

Future foragers denounce
capitalistic bamboozlers aggression
zealots wrought trashing
quintessential naked kingdoms issue
flotsam coagulates zonal wastelands
torquing quality NON
killing habitats Earth bleached
yellowed voodoo ruins.