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I lift my head and try to fly,
A bird with broken wings,
Held down and haunted by
The song my sorrow sings.

Useless melodies inside,
Keeping me from healing,
Ruffled feathers, open eyed,
The past I am concealing.

What is a bird that cannot fly?
I want to end it once and for all,
I put my trust into the sky,
And begin the final fall.
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2023
Pacing in soft falling rain along a path seldom taken.
Preoccupied by thoughts, perturbed by the direction of my concerns.
How, in the epic of everyday normality, the excesses of humanity at large intercede, intrude on the peace of mind. Intrude on the grace of the green and peaceful rurality, in which I walk.

Insanity runs riot in some of the most , otherwise, passionately beautiful locales on the planet.

It manifests in the slaughter of unsuspecting innocents sitting down for a breakfast in the quiescent early morning light of old Kiev.
The monstrosity emanating directly from the mind of the mania driven, 70 year old, balding man in the Kremlin.

Carnage, death and unspeakable outrage and sorrow. Both young and old contorted, suddenly, in the stench of cordite and smoking rubble. Dreams, dreamt, just yesterday, obliterated forever.

Incandescent rage of vengeance ignited in the eyes of the beholders, a rage that will endure in a livid hatred that will perpetuate for centuries.

And of course, every day now, in the palaces of Pyongyang, Beijing, Paris, Washington, London, Delhi, Tel Aviv. Iran and Moscow, old men in expensive suits ruminate, sip rare old whisky and plot strategies on the nuclear chessboard. Moves that have the capacity of determining the endgame.

The fate of all life on earth.

In the meantime, the planet, fed up with the excesses of humankind, is reacting in melting the ice floes of Antarctica and the North Pole, swelling the oceans to engulf, warming the seas to create the emergence of devastating cyclones, hurricanes and tornadoes.

Man is awakening to regions of expanding drought, vast and repetitive deluges of rainfall causing landfall and huge areas of catastrophic flooding, Encroachment of coastlines and the threat of inundation of vast low lying population areas, coastal cities and essential infrastructure, airports, power stations and arterial highways.....and then there are the wildfires, ever expanding, ever increasing in frequency and the continental choking palls of smoke.

Pondering these things, as I walk this country path in the falling rain, perhaps the greatest concern that causes my brow to furrow, is that largely, my fellow man turns the other way, preferring to put these things out of his mind. leave it to someone else to sort out. Place it all in the too hard basket.....and this attitude, I'm afraid, percolates to the top.
Concentrate on getting the votes, it will all sort itself out just so long as WE WIN THE NEXT ELECTION.

And so it goes on now, indeed.... A Whiter Shade of Pale.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
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.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
A poet whose words I so admire
Once turned my compliment around
And said I was his favorite too.
I didn’t have the word for thanks
Quite grand enough for how I felt.
I’ve never been a favorite -
Not in life, or work or even love.
He put a warm place in my heart -
A Cinnabon fresh from the oven -
That perfumes my day each time
I savor those kind words from him.
              ljm
Haven't seen or heard from here in quite a while.  If anyone knows how to reach him, please send this horribly belated ode to him.
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