Marshal Gebbie

Apr 2022

guy scutellaro

BUCHA

bicycle by your side
hands tied
arms and legs askew
faceless man
who are you?

what did you do?
who weeps for you?
who loves you?
children, any?
father?
son?
who put the gun to the head
of the faceless man of BUCHA?

lying in the ruins of the street
what horrible creatures did you see
in that last, darkening light
of BUCHA?

Apr 2022

n stiles carmona

class of 2019

rows of two!-three!-four!-boys-bloc-king-the-cor-rid-or
will soon be gone
and the RHYTH-mic-tick-tock-of-my-leg-BOUN-cing-on-the-floor
will be no more
it's fresh cadavers wrapped in string
it is a joyful gospel hymn
mourning the best and worst of youth
(those shiny kids who'd first walked in
with all the grace and all the poise
of hatched arachnids missing limbs)

but what of "her" – you know her name –
that overfed, reptilian thing
who shed her hair and scratched her skin,
cursing the odds at Him upstairs, demanding He re-shape her?

some say she cried herself into extinction
– sailed away on a crimson tide –
balking at the trauma of being seen
(enforced, cursed vulnerability
in being known to man).

the rest knew better;
they were voyeurs in this
fruit-carving tutorial
on 'how to grow up':

STEP 1) consider all other alternatives
2) take the scalpel and initiative
3) before adrenaline gives way to doubt,
turn the flesh-vessel inside out in a cocoon of your own creation!
while organs may rupture and it aches like you've skinned yourself alive (good for her, setting herself free!) you'll look cuter in the class photos and has you-know-who... finally... shifted the weight?
4) breathe through the blood loss and searing pain
5) notice
           you
                can
                     breathe again.
                     at this point, does it matter that it aches?

tribute to the worst years of my life so far. may it only get better from here.

#graduation #sixthform #school #freeverse #comingofage #bittersweet

Apr 2022

n stiles carmona

Solitaire

I daren't (rather, shouldn't) breathe:
I'd built a tower of hearts from cards.
The gaps and breaks are real estate --
I'm nestled in the in-betweens.

                                              (Sapp**'s spirit sighs.
                                              How human to not move quickly enough,
                                              or to yearn for whatever's inches from reach
                                              - blissfully unhinged by "almost".)

She's marble-carved and still as stone:
if I kissed her, would she spring to life?
I'd offer nought but foolish flesh,
this trembling frame, and bone.

                                                            ("Tell me yes, tell me no;
                                                             either way, you're in the right,
                                                             but for the love of Venus -- speak.")

#queer #unrequited #crush #romantic #sapphic #freeverse

Marshal Gebbie Apr 2022

The Rapture of the Moment

This crystal Autumn morn, where the dew sparkles on the fresh cut lawn, where the stillness of the cold air lends an absolute clarity to the
alpine vista before me.

The old Kaitake volcano with its vaulting flanks of Kamihe forest with outcrops of massive Rimu and Miro, Tawa and giant, towering Mamaku tree fern. Deep dark ravines tumbling down to fast flowing, clear water streams and moss covered, black boulder waterfalls.

Everywhere the sound of the Dawn Chorus, birds of every description voicing their celebration at the start of the new day.
The honk of the Paradise duck marking his turf in the cattle paddock, Two magpies perched on the very top fronds of a giant tree fern, warbling their unique song to be answered by another pair off in the undulation of the crisp green hills in the middle distance.
Tiny wrens and fantails flit amid the branches uttering their contribution to the swelling music of the morning.

The rapture of the song in the crystal silence and the golden light of the dawning sun throwing the profile of the mountain ridges and the forest into a glory of deep dark shade and glowing gold contrast.

This moment, this magic moment swells my heart with joy.
The wondrous beauty before me holds the innocence of the key to my utter happiness.....I throw back my balding old head and roar with laughter with the complete joy of it all.

M.
Foxglove@Taranaki, NZ
8th April 2022

Marshal Gebbie Apr 2022

Seaward's Summer Wine

Lost in threads of joys surprise
Engrossing thoughts, a sweet surmise,
Delightful now, as waves enthrone
This pounding surf on shores of home.

Seagulls squabble loud on sand
Zephyr breezes waft inland
Lost to threads of seascape’s awe
When yonder lighthouse beams to shore

Seaward shades of turquoise green
Myriad waves in mirrored sheen
Sunshine blazing dunes, far reach
When children’s laughter echoes beach.

Shapely girls in little else
Cavort with fun's cavortive self
Bringing joy to all who share
The happiness that rings the air

Summer baking heat on land
Washing waves to sloping sand,
Kaleidoscopic sails at sea
Lean to wind-ward’s ecstasy.

Metallic sheen of shimmered sea
Brings sodium’s bite aflood to me
Exultant now, in ocean’s rhyme,
I've supped elixir’s Summer Wine.

M.
In the fading throes of our late, great New Zealand Summer
April 5 2022