In the place where the moon meets broken shadows, it begins with the swelling of my eyes  

Tears roll across the scars, that no one else can see

A phantom’s curse

Only this place can release my from this dystopian enchantment

The sweet smell alone entangles me with feelings of safety and wonder

For a reality flooded with forest flowers and a throbbing wind

It teases my subconsciousness, it trickles down to my soul

Like a an agonizing murmur

The hypnotic web forms

In this quiet place clouds hurry across confusing shadows

Shivering in the delicious sunlight

My immaculate hour of rediscovery begins…

I want it to rain so badly,

I can't escape this delirium,

with an open mouth and shinning eyes

I want to be entangled with the ruffling grass

My biggest wish on this day,

the day the strange noise broke the silence

is to run outside naked with my crown in hand

and conquer this unconquerable instinct

babe lets crack open
a bottle of wine.
get so drunk i trace my body with my hands
and pretend they're yours.
i feel like dying tonight.
the stars are screaming
your name
shooting through me
like bullets.

Before guns wore make-up,
We used to put pennies in our socks
So we’d always walk on the root of all evil.

Now Wall Street angels frolic through satellite clouds borrowed
from youths educated by universities of smoke and plastic bags.
                  
(The tears of a child are homage to the waning gods)
For in a day not far away,
Over the painted moon of the Morning Son,
The sun will rise wearing the finest war scars money can buy.

And the screams of humanity will be heard from Venus,
Forgetting that the reciprocal of   L-I-V-E   itself  is     E-V-I-L
And perhaps death is the life meant to be lived.

I've just come in from sitting out front in some welcomed sun shine.
It's clear out and less cold and for two days or so we are to have
more of the same, but with colder nights, down into the high 20s.

As I walked out to the mail box, a distance of over 250 feet, along
our drive way, I turned back and looked over my shoulder and there
came all three of the outside cats. The Gray Lady, followed by
Tom and bringing up the rear was Jerry. All in a nearly perfect line,
spaced about ten feet behind me and from one another, in near
perfect order and a formation that even a hard edged Drill Instructor
might admire.

I got the mail and returned to the garage, with my kitty parade right
behind me.

In watching these cats and all our other animals it has occurred to
me that I am starting to behave very much like them. We talked
about how animals live in the moment. Reaction and instinct over
planning and thinking. Never over thinking anything.

I guess that is becoming me. I sleep until I wake up. Stay awake
until I grow sleepy. Drink when I thirst, eat when I hunger. Seeing
the sun appear, I seek it's warmth and bask in it's comfort. I pay no
attention to clocks and mostly refuse to plan. With no demands on
my time I do not require a schedule. I worry less and have little or
no expectations. I suppose you might say that I am free.

I can conclude that Life is a circle. Everything I just described might
well fit the description of a routine existence of a human infant.
Apparently we end much like we started out. Or, returning to my point,
perhaps we grow more and more like a cat, or a dog, or just about any
animal or mammal. More basic, simple and uncomplicated. Surely there
is Freedom in understanding and accepting that discovered realization.

And now without any thinking or planning, I shall go and find a warm
soft place to lay down, lick my fur and take a nap.

S.

You are feeling your mortality brother Steven ??.
So an instant ode to you my brother .....

Mortality, our great redeemer
Is levelling the ides of man,
Trimming back the values sought
In every over complex plan.
Trimming back un-needed gloss
Trimming back the fat,
Reducing the absurdity
of mankind’s overloaded  vat.

….To make each instant simpler
To render cleaner time,
To give each day a value
And to make that value mine.

The nearness of my coming end
Is this man’s realisation’s friend
In sorting out the wheat from chaff
To promulgate a favoured blend.

This blend?... My satisfaction’s choice
In the simpler things of life,
My kids, my mates, my poetry
And the touch of my dear wife.

The rest is window dressing, friend,
I leave it for the youth
That’s the group who’s noisy preference
Is behaviourally uncouth.

….Like you, I crave the simpler life
The morning sun in crisp blue air
And the happy sound of kids at play
….Means MY old soul’s in good repair.
                            
Affectionately M

Thoughtful moments pondering
The worthiness of this,
Examining it carefully
To remove what is remiss.
Questioning the ethics
Of the larger picture shown,
Scrutinize morality
To drive the question home.
Delving into detail
For here the issue stands
And brandishing the blade
When dissection makes demands.
Laying forth the factors
Which, assembled, form the deal
Tasting points of piquancy
To rather sweeten up the meal.
Then....Making the decision
TO REALLY DRIVE THE MATTER HOME
To be left with apprehension
Sitting terrified, alone!*





Marshalg
Pukehana Paradise
Epsom
14 January 2013

© 2013 Marshal Gebbie

Sitting on the ottoman
That Ana made for me
Feeling early morning sun
With all my kitties three

Looking to my unknown friends
For their poetry and prose
Quietly just sitting here,
In this precious, rare repose.

These small moments gift themselves
For my  joy and reverie
An abundance there to fill my heart
Amid self calamity

Hurt, shoes and doubt, a cloak
A part of daily wear
But beneath the ***** garments
The joy of life is there

And so today I dress myself
In the peace of cotton white
cast off my stylized shoes and cloak
Button up this sunny light

And venture forth into the world
In no high fashion dressed
A humble and forgiving garb
Myself and others blessed