Bad communication
Is the scourge of the world,
Interactive skills, bizarre at best,
Are twisted, bent and curled.
Cancerous perceptions
With an eloquence extreme
Are as rare as fragile virgins
In a sea of passion’s cream.


Messages delivered
In verbal speech exchange,
Interpretive dilemmas
Intermittent on every page.
Disruptive diversions
Occur from time to time
But disdain for rules is punished
By a pain that fits the crime.


Feedback tells the story straight
Integrity is low,
When interaction deteriorates
And tolerances go.
Networking bankruptcy
Is globally compound
And the malady contagious
And malignancy profound.


Diplomatic overtures
Are wasted in this case,
Superior subordinates,
Enigmatic, in their place,
Hold sway over standards
Adopted near and far
And wayward phraseology
Is implicitly ajar.


For a speedy resolution
Lateral thinking is required,
Creative application
So imaginatively wired
To maximize the profits
And minimize the waste,
And to spread the dire instructions
With a mortal threat in place.


Improvement will be visionary
Resentment will decline,
Imaginative writing
Will appear like summer wine.
Eloquent discourse
Shall sprout about like herbs
And overtures of understanding
Will emanate from faceless words.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
6 May 2009

Wide, grey waters rolling in
Invisibly it flows
Like a spreading carpet over mud
Inexorably it grows.
Created by a lunar force
And global winds at play,
Twice each day the tides do surge
To crest and flow away.


Twice each day the tide rolls in
To cover shoals of sands
And beds of oysters, muddy brown
With squirting water glands.
And twice each day the seabirds flock
To alight on draining shores
To harvest succulents and *****
And other tasty mores.


Oyster pickers congregate
In flocks of white and black
Red beaks plunging deeply
In green pastures for a snack.
Amazingly, they all take flight
A thousand beating wings
Which heel about collectively
Inking out all skyward things.


A thousand, million wavelets play
Across the level span
Pursued by wind’s relentless glove
In a patterned, surging plan.
And each reflects a kiss of light,
Each wavelet in the run
Collectively illuminate
Like diamonds in the sun.


Above the waves the seagulls ply
In corridors of air
In squadron flights of symmetry
To weave and wheel with flair,
Their raucous calls at distance
The poetry of sound,
In tidal terms, a symphony
Of seaward things profound.


The haze at the horizon
Of salt spray in the air,
White ,crunchy shells on beaches,
Pohutukawa’s everywhere.
A feeling of things tidal
In a lazy, salty way,
And enjoying the quiet beauty
Of this lovely, coastal bay.


Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
4th March 2009

The rain is on the windowpane
It's cold and still outside
And we're together cuddled up,
Entwined in bed ...sublime!

Sunday morning, nothings on
The day is ours to spend
But entwined, we want this magic moment
...Now, to never end.

Curled together in a warm embrace
Our bodies... Oh so near,
I can feel your breath upon my brow
Hear your heartbeat in my ear.

Our toes are pressed together
Your fingers curling in my hair
I just love your gentle snoring
And your heartbeat in my ear.

Through all the years we've shared
The good, the bad, the far the near
These loving moments are the best
When there's your heartbeat in my ear.

The understanding that develops
Over time, year after year
And the love that grows within it,
Heartbeat in my ear.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
5th October 2008

They’re watching in the avenues
They’re watching in the rain,
They’re waiting for the animals
To cause our children pain.

They join in condemnation
They point the finger straight
They single out the people
Who dispense biff and hate.

They stand in haunting fog and mist
Those children who are dead,
They stand and watch in legions
And wait with mounting dread.

For somewhere in this fair green land
An adolescent mum
Is thrashing her young children
Until they’re bruised and numb.

A baby crying in the night
A baby much in need
Of nappies and a tender hand
Than punches and a bleed.

The little ones are dying
Broken & obscene
Their little bodies black and blue
From beatings in between
Collections from the dole queue
**** ups in the shed
Cigarettes and hopelessness
“P” your dull mind dead.

The Moaris say its Pakeha
The cops say crime don’t pay,
The politicians shrug and sigh
And look the other way.
The population wrings it’s hands
And gets on with it’s life
Whist violence and brutality
Still cause our  kiddies strife.

No one’s owning up to this
No one’s taking blame,
The ******* flows in rivers
And the world has turned insane.

We must find a leader
To  take this thing in hand.
Eradicate the baby bashing
From our PC land.
Fling abusers into gaol
And lose the ****** key
Take the kids & farm them out
To families good & free.
We break the cycle hard & fast
And teach the lesson straight
Abuseing kids will see you GONE
Inside..incarcerate!

Where’s the leader, burning bright,
Where is courage in this fight,
Who will lift the banner high
Who will rise up and defy
The apathy , the poisoned sloth
Indifference of the public cloth.
Who will rise and make a stand
Make us proud to love this land
Who will rid us of this thing
WHO WILL MAKE THE GAUNT GHOSTS SING ?

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
12th August 2007

Dedicated with gratitude to Sammy Jacobs

People come and people go
Throughout your life they ebb and flow,
Some touch you softly, others wound
And now & then sweet love doth bloom,
Irrespective, in the main,
The depth of feeling does pertain
To just how willingly you impart
Your open smile, your helping heart.

There’s nothing finer in this life
Than another's helping hand through strife,
To reach right out a steady arm
And steer the vulnerable away from harm,
To kiss a brow or wipe a tear
Dispell the torment hovering near,
The placement of an understanding word
Removes that fear of things absurd.

A kindness is a gift of love
An exquisite flying, snow white dove
As precious as a lustrous pearl
As fragrant as a rose unfurled.
An expression of your true intent…
To give and share and make content
Those souls whose lives are unresolved
Who need your gentle hand to hold.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
12th March 2008

Red Leaves moving by the river
Red leaves blowing in the breeze
Billowing in dusty circles
Settling down just how they please.
Red leaves falling from the maple
Falling down like scarlet rain
Painting Autumn tones for lovers
Making way for winter’s pain.
Feel the crispness of the evening
Watch the ***** frost gather there
Crunching through night’s frozen pasture
Billowed breath in morning’s air.
Running down the road in gum boots
Kicking up the piles of leaves
Making waterfalls of redness
Tensions flee and worries ease.
How I love the feel of Autumn
Stillness in the afternoon
Watching long clouds rich in grandeur
Golden sunset, crescent moon.
Winter comes with gales and thunder
Lightning flashes in the trees
Red leaves flailing in the windstorm
Graceful Autumn bows ....and flees.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
30th May 2008

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

Cry not for what you do not have
Bleed less for what is given,
For the cruelty in your fellow man
Will paint how greed is driven.
The silent fields of Sobibor
And Dachau's dull grey light,
Pay testament to past largess
In what is wrong and right.
Conception's teeming contest
Has dispensed your primal luck,
Your greater expectations
Have run, gratuitously, amok.
For what you are is what you get
This mirror's image barks,
And delusional ostentatiousness
Reinforces those remarks.
Seek not the golden rainbow
Nor pursue the greener field,
For disaffected affectations
Promise you a simple yield.
Learn to love the skin you live in
Irrespective of the warts,
Live within your  limitations
Despite disparaging retorts.
Count the blessings of the moment
Take each small step at a time,
Come to terms with who you are
And you will find it all...sublime!.



Marshalg
@theBach
14 November 2009

Ancient people, ancient ways
Protracting back through time,
The culture of the Chinese race
Far predates Roman line.
Before the Huns and Visigoths
Cascaded forth to burn,
Confucian bred conformity
Did budding scholars learn.
Astronomy, anatomy,
Philosophy and law,
The ancients sought the knowledge path
Wide open lay the door
To secrets, mystic and arcane,
They plied their trade craft well
...Then broke into another age
Of red chaos and hell.

Swarming by the millions
And dying by the score,
Brother slaughtered brother
Until Chiang said,"No more!"
To Taiwan's craggy shores he fled,
He fortified it then
And left the Marxist mainland
In the hands of Mao's men.
The red tide swept the nation.
To militarily expand
And the cruelty of a massive force
Descended on the land.

Oh your heart should weep for China
The sensitivity and grace,
Is lost forever in the ******
To revolutionize this place.
The educated strangled,
The policemen didn't care,
And the little children running
With that red book in the air.
Oh your heart should weep for China
With her golden history torn
And her future in the sewer
Where the filthy vermin spawn.

The Chairman died without a God
Praise Allah, let it be.
And Jiang Qing, his willful wife,
Was jailed for treachery.
Deng Xiaoping rose from the dead
An elderly, wise man
Who galvanized the nations will
With a workable great plan.
Gradually, the people breathed,
The terror disappeared,
And hard repression from the top
Was nervously unfeared.
The cogs began to mesh again,
Commerce began to flow
The Red Brigade was over
And NEW CHINA was on show.

In recent years the old men
Still retain the reigns of power.
The Communistic system
Commands to this very hour.
But the rigid hand of commerce
Has loosened up a lot
And the capitalistic system
Allows profits to be got.
And the flow of information
Issues freely from the west
Influencing aspirations,
Putting systems to the test.
And the leaders know with certainty
That just around the bend,
There will be younger challengers
Who plan a different end.

The Olympics are in Beijing
In the coming August moon,
A showcase for the nations best
A demonstration soon
Of advancements that will show the world
Just how well that we have done
And that the hand of friendly comradeship
Is well and truly won.

But there is trouble in Tibet!
The saffron runs with blood.
The monks and soldiers trading blows
Are dying in the mud.
Agitation to be free
Is Tibet's distant call
And the rage of hot embarrassment
Demands the brutal fall
Of the troublemakers...Old men say

The saffron legions die.....

The howling Prayer flags scream their rage
To a lonely, cold, blue sky.





Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
1st April 2008

Dark terrorism creeping
Across the world in flood
Lacerating peace of  mind
And soaking us in blood,
Indiscriminately mauling
Targets they perceive
Will further their ambition
Of global dominance and greed.

A mother tears her bodice,
Her moans, a hollow sound,
Her family caste about her
Shredded by a mortar round.
Little children in the playground
Mothers shopping in the mall,
Mullah’s kneeling, praying in the mosque
A car bomb kills them all.

How’s it hanging Tony Blair,
Have you enjoyed your breakfast yet?
Felt inclined to visit far Kashmir
In your speedy, private jet?
It’s murderous in Kashmir
And has been for a while
For, still, India and Pakistan
Throw lethal bullets, bombs and bile.

And Beruit is as dangerous
As the Lebanon can be,
Iran is building maelstrom
Feared by Jews eternally.
The I.R.A. Still loathe the Brits
Koreans hate the ****
The Russians distrust everybody
(Especially Chechun rats.)

El Queada is stateless
They attack across the board
From Washington to New York
To Indonesia’s tropic shore.
America’s a fortress
But still fighting foreign wars
Whilst China sits inscrutably
Nursing Tibet’s cuts and sores.
Islamic fundamentalists
Throw Jihad to Israel
And Israel tears at Hammas
Did they steal the Holy Grail?

The beauty of a little girl
Her skin as smooth as silk,
Expression in those calm brown eyes
Is as innocent as milk.
Because she lived in Gaza
Her tomorrows are depraved
By an A.K.47 shell
That despatched her to her grave.

Who are the good guys?
Who are the bad?
What part of this unholy mess
Is anything but mad?
All invoke the righteous stance
God is on our side!
Each engage this hideous dance
And foreign God’s deride.

Ripping, skinning, blasting, killing
Terrorists do lurk,
Spreading fear across the globe
Intentionally, is their work.
Taking citizen’s by the throat
And slashing with a blade
To leave their mark indelibly
On countless corpses laid.

Dogma, ideology
The mantra is obscene
Because the minions who perform these tasks
Are usually quite clean,
Their mentors are the instigators
Enmeshed within the code
Of obsession, faith and bigotry,
All adhere to this dark road.
Obsessed with racial hatred,
Obsessed by loathing greed,
Obsession ruled by God alone
Jihad, Fatwah decreed!

Pray tell me noble man of prayer
Where is your God in this?
Pray tell me any one out there
HOW DOES THAT GOD EXIST?

Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
6th March 2009

Hatchet nose and hooded brow
A wisp of white hair, wind blown now,
Two hawk, blue eyes which see within,
Bush bred, gaunt and pig hunt trim.
Old now in his senior years
Missing June with hidden tears,
Saw Hiroshima's atom death
With tommy gun and sake breath.

A legacy on freckled brow
In melanoma's tumors now,
Lives alone on simple fare
With Smoky cat and favoured chair.
In Wanganui, coastal town
Loves fish and chips and Tui brown.

Hard hands reflect a life of graft
His good firm grip in handshake grasp,
Trialist of some All Black fame
Bread maker in the baking game.
Shearer,farmer, fencer, Dad
White baiting always made him brag,
A dead shot across hills of green
Where hinds would pause to graze unseen.

Daughters fair pursued by some
Who walked the gauntlet of his gun,
Taught the grand kids natural skills
Like setting traps for possum kills,
Shoot a rabbit, catch a fish,
A fry up of my favourite dish.

Missing mates who chose to die
Requiring friends to mourn and cry,
Missing Brian, his only son
And June, his wife,the special one,
Leaving life a vacant space,
A colourless and pallid place,
Except in his emphatic way
He looks at me and stands to say...
"Life must go on my son"
Go mount your bike and pack your gun
And head up to yon wooded hill
To stalk the stag and make the ****.

Staunch, *****, a man of men
Is Verne Bell who I call my friend.

Marshalg
Tauranga
8 November 2009

The peace in this seclusion
Of a tranquil park in green,
With stately trees of ancient years
And walkways in between
There's deep shade under foliage
With sunspots everywhere,
And a velvet sense of peacefulness
Pervading in the air.

But:
Should you step beyond the green grass,
Should you venture onto seal,
An abrupt and harsh transition
Manifests, as quite unreal!
There's a cacophony of engine noise,
The headlong rush of cars,
A kaleidoskope of steel and glass
And frantic men from Mars!

The grind of wasted hours
With inertia breeding dread
And putting up with maniac's
Ignoring stop lights turning red.
There's a quagmire of congestion here
A head ache for the Tsar's
And for myriads of people
Who queue daily in their cars.

There's a White Knight in the future,
There's salvation in the air
For the God's of your deliverance
Will relieve you of despair.
They will forge a mighty tunnel
Deep beneath the grassy park
And divert congested traffic
Out beyond congestion's arc.

Melding with the motorway
To make breathing space for all,
The Victoria Park Alliance
Guarantees their clarion call.
Energetic men and women
Who are planning round the clock,
Engineers and excavator's slave
To work without a stop.
Concrete slab and steel amass
To build the tunnel strong
And sleek attenuators
Keep the traffic flowing on.

Salvation in the form
Of a tunnel underground
Beneath the spreading boughs
Of an oak in green surround,
Beneath the peaceful turf
Of a verdant park as planned,
Found amidst the million souls
Of Auckland, New Zealand.

Marshalg
@theCoalface
Auckland City
New Zealand
6 November 2009
www.worthyofpublishing

Whence did thee depart the orb

To seek the pearls of Jobe ?

Whence did thou retire to rob

And don the elder's robe ?

Whence did thee run far from home

To flee assassin's work ?

Whence was good sense realised

That thee had gone beserk ?

Whence did good become the bad

And rampantcy run wild ?

For whom friend, doth the bell toll

In the slaughter of this child ?

What will the fate's bequeath us

With this legacy of wrong ?

From whence will come the melody

When wrong consumes the song ?



Marshalg

@theCoalface

3November 2009

Image mirrored on the water
Living creatures slide below,
Oblivious to light refraction
Blinded to reflection's show.

Patterns shimmer in the ripples
Light is dancing through the flow,
Images in moving water
Colors merge and visuals grow.

Sunshine sparkles off the wavelets
Glistening as do pearls on ink,
Shimmering of morning breeze
Cause brittle leaves to fall and sink.

A stillness in the afternoon
The summer air hangs hot and low
Rich golden tones of setting sun
Reflection's bronze striation's glow.

Coolness of the night descending
Myriad's' of stars appear,
Ribboned light of starlight blending
Through the surge of wavelets near.

Vastness in the dead of night
Across the ocean's heaving dance,
Moonlight showers shards of light
To silver water's wide expanse.

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
1 November 2009

A curtain of impatience
Descends upon your day
An urgency for completion
Comes intensely into play


Emotional Intensity
Is largely in the frame
But your judgements equilibrium
Holds the dominance of blame.


Stability is vulnerable
Through a three dimensional fan
And a questionable tangent
Will have them querying your plan.


This belligerence is natural
When integrity is crossed,
When intentions are criticized
And cohesiveness is lost.


But a rational track of history
Goes far towards your cause
And a creditable performance
Will surely open doors?


So swallow your urgency,
Ease passion’s twitching arm,
Put a hold on your aggression
And show the scrutineer’s your charm.



Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
8 April 2009

Banal though it may seem
I've judged myself an evergreen,
Having run the rugged miles
Showed the pain in grimaced smiles.
Sought the summit, felt the burn
Of tortured thighs at every turn,
Searing lungs and flagging will
Endure my son, until, until.


Articulation's lost for words
Selective memories unheard,
Herald in truth's bitter pill
Of vanquished foes, we speak no ill.
Wear exhaustion, lift the soul
Assign a new and distant goal,
For no one's really watching you
So stagger on, attempt anew.


Life's lost legions, tell the score
Self postulation'***** the floor,
So laugh in self derision now
It's all insane you silly cow.
As time spins on you try the moves
Which younger others usually use,
But one thing cuts you to the bone,
For when you die, you die alone.



Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
12 September 2009

Exultant in hiatus hovering
Indulgent in this paused rewind,
To Jubilantly rob the reaper
Bleeding him of stolen time.

Illicit whispers silenced now
A brooding hue invades the room,
Whispy red, magenta forces
Hold at bay gloom's moody doom.

Translucence in the shadow shimmers
Time and space suspend as one,
Whilst others wither on the vine
Eternity's embraced by some.

This gentle feeling, floating there
The thrill of flying free,
From complications vagaries,
From life's complexity.

The crystal cadence starts to wither
Silky walls do billow in,
Hurled abuse invades the instant
Carping walls of harping din.

Retreating to the everyday
And wrinkled skin again,
The golden days of pause have fled
As time resumes her reign.

Marshalg
@theCoalface
Mangere Bridge
29 October 2009
www.worthyofpublishing.com

Look to the past to find your demons
Ghosts appear as memories loom,
Transgressions weave uneasy feelings
The horrors glide across the room.

Tissue scarred for wrongs committed
Hot, wet tears run down your face,
Embarrassed feelings bleed discomfort
Bad reflections have no grace.

A writhing in your nether regions
Bleak remorsefulness inside,
Feelings based on actions rendered
Face your demons, run and hide.

Overwhelming sinful actions
Drive you to a freezing place,
Confess your crimes to Catholic faction
Bare your shredded soul’s disgrace.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
9 May 2009

Donate to the destitute
Sniff at the rich,
To seek the improbable
Quest is a *****.
Porcine platitudes
Lost to mules
Who ignore good advice
To play us for fools.
Dead giveaway dreamers
Floating on air
Who stroll past pearls
To preen their hair.
Contentious *******
Grind their teeth,
Obsessing with conflict
Asleep on their feet.
Beautiful bodies
Deplored by the boys
Who prefer their own gender
To feminine ploys.
Bearded babies
Found dead in the sand,
Mothers distraught
Militarily grand.
Losing the truth
Is humanity's skill
In removing the just
In the rush for the ****.



Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
5 October 2009

Summer's heat upon my back
A cool stream at my feet,
I hold her tender hand in mine
And find life, Oh so sweet.
For when you love, you know you love
The warmth runs through your bones,
And poets words and singers songs
Are heard in dulcet tones.

The splendour of a morning dew
A night of moonlight pale,
A floating leaf on waters still
Enhance life's gifted grail.
Down deep within my breast I feel
A tenderness so fine
That all earth's precious treasures
Would perceive that thy love's mine.

Oh nurse of mine in blue attire
With slender,up turned face,
The sweetness in your soft, brown eyes
Makes life a wondrous place.
And should I die before I wake
My darling I impart,
That every instant spent away
From you did break my heart.

Marshalg
@theBach
Manger Bridge
27 October 2009

Jetting away to your far away home
I'm left with your fragrance and image alone,
To sit on the chair with a scotch in my hand
Miserably aware that I can't understand,
Why you left, why you cried,why you sped for the door
Leaving pungency there in the sheets on the floor.

The aching emptiness, hollow inside
The confusion and rawness of pain, I confide,
That I'm lost. Tomorrow is pointlessly there
When I wake up to find that your gone in despair.
Just yesterday, we lay spent on the bed
Entwined and sated, so seemingly dead,
And now the ghost of passion's done
When then, we were so wetly one.

Marshalg
Relax, it's just a story!
Mangere Bridge
26 October 2009

Ya gotta be proud of ya country
When ya wear it around on ya sleeve,
Ya gotta be proud of ya people
When they really know how to believe,
Ya gotta feel pride in ya product
when ya fashion & craft it with care
..and ya gotta repulse all the *******
when the rest of the world won’t share.

For man, as a species is poisonous
and God threw the towel in for sure,
When adam  & Eve ate the apple
and threw up all over the floor.
They broke all the rules at the outset
they muddied the waters so bad,
that confusion and greed ran in tandem
and mankind was fast going mad.

Eruptions of steel fly in carbombs
in the streets of Iraq every day,
Ethiopian babies are buried
before they are graced with a name,
and the great wheel of life turns in circles
and the rich play golf with the brave
and who gives a ****
that we’re stuck in the muck
Just so long as that mortgage is paid.

The Parlimentarian’s lying
The coppers are taking the graft,
the oilmen are creaming us all now
and the banks are so rich..they just laugh!
Society’s falling asunder
and we all stand around ******* beer,
can our kids now be blamed
when they all get inflamed
and inhale and inject and turn queer.

Our taxman’s making a killing
he’s fleecing the populace bare,
the small businesman’s plunged
cos he’s chucked in the sponge
and there’s nothing but vacuum left there.

There’s the segment that run high and lofty
their ideals are as white as the snow
for abortion’s as black & the **** is as slack
and GE and PC are go
The fingers are pointed at others,
the hands, lily white, seek refrain
sanctimonious soul seeks  unseekable goal
and the whole lot gets flushed down the drain.

Our PM is staunchly unchallenged
she adjusts her adjustments just so’
her manouvers adroit ‘
the election’s in site
and Labour is flush with the dough.
Minorities step up beside her,
the lesbians snap to their feet
and the marraigeless mothers
and **** ups and others
all cluster to be so discreet.

But the weather is turning up roses
the exchange is bullish so far
and the girls are as pretty
as the **** in the city
and the door to the future’s ajar.
Perhaps there’s some system to it.
Maybe I’ve missed the great plan
for religion has zeal and Christ made a meal
of repairing his mess with elan.

So you see I’m reconciled to it.
I’l glide along for the ride
It’s futile to fight the humungous great might
in it’s institutional slide.
So I wrap myself in my solace
embalm myself with my pride
for in my little world
this old flag is unfurled
.. and Kiwi I’l stand by your side.

Marshalg /Mangere Bridge /Christmas 2005

Vagaries of the Gemini moon
Your slippers walk on ice,
Repercussions of the hazard’s risk
Is tempered badly thrice.

The challenge lies in fickle fate
Impulsive acts are out
But opportunities denial
Denies your optimism’s clout.

Factor in the constant, Son
Trust your battery power,
Forge ahead capriciously
Before lunar luck turns sour.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
1 April 2009

Domestically the cat and dog
Are streets above the rest
But wild alligators
Have put this theory to the test.
Panting hippopotami
Run faster than a mule
And a camel humps his water
Through the desert like a fool.
Bandicoots are ugly,
Chipmonks pretty cute,
And the squirrel steals his nuts
And hides them in the ground as loot.
Tigers are voracious
But beautiful as sin,
They have  coats of cruel colours
With two burning eyes within.
Elephants spectacular,
Blue whales even more
But my favourite little goldfish
Really shows them all the door.



Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
4th January 2009

Probing the depths of a red, velvet rose
Is allied to immersion in fields of rich prose,
Where colour and language do blend in their ploy
To enrich the perception for us to enjoy.

The resonance felt in a deep violin
And the sensual touch of her soft belly skin,
The warmth of a scotch on a cold winter's day
Cause sensations to riot and pleasures to play.

The amazement and privilege to witness alone
That vast golden sunset midst ridges of stone,
And the freshness of feeling when first you immerse
In the cascading chaos of summer beach surf.

Motes in the air on a still sunlit day
And sweet, golden apricots hanging array,
Amidst bright green leaves on an ancient, old tree
Where the great joy of living has descended on me.

Marshalg
On the long weekend
Mangere Bridge
25 October 2009

Thought about the values
That stipulate the way
You hold yourself in public
And play your cards each day.
Those building blocks of character
The templates in your psych,
The friction points of weakness
That wake you in the night.


Thought about the substance
That binds you to your way
The strengths and the failings
That motivate your day.
Enigmatic factors,
The quirks in your soul
Which endear you to some
But leave others quite cold.


Thought about loving
And loathing and pride,
And the great depths of sorrow
We carry inside.
The reluctance to face
The resentments of sin
With selective amnesia
We nurture within.


Thought about birth
With it's promise and joy,
Thought about death
As finality's ploy
Laughed at the memory
Of your smiling face
And squirmed with discomfort
In an old lies disgrace.


Thought about leaving
But decide to stay,
Thought about praying
Buy what would I say ?
I decided to sit
And contemplate life
With it's myriad fantasies,
Pleasures and strife.


I Thought about you
With a smile on your face,
So I'll ponder awhile
In this pleasant place.
I'll sit and remember
The happiness spared
In that thin whisp of timeframe
That mother fate shared.


Marshalg
@theBach
19 July 2009

Sifting through throngs of ordinary people
Feeling the sweat run down your spine,
Knowing that somewhere, lost in the nowhere
Penniless thoughts are sweeping your mind.

Whispering breezes caress the deep valleys
Towering aspens reach for the sky
Loveliness stretches across the whole landscape
And ordinary people live life as they die.

The everyday actions of ordinary souls
Which gather like old leaves in piles at your feet,
They billow and flow like windblown confetti
And lay there like derelict snow in the street.

The passion and pain that flow through the lifeway
The highs and the lows that paint in your mind
Magnificent portraits of colour and texture
That render your eyesight effectively blind.

You scream at the hollowness, vacantly pulsing
Thrash at the emptiness shimmering there,
Long for the avalanche of substance returning
Long for the touch of her long golden hair.

Swim through the morass of ordinary people
Wade through the ordinary thoughts that live there
Making the most of the moments of lightness
Through quivering lips you discard despair.

Dancing in puddles and splashing through gutters
Cascading on through in a frivolous way,
Tossing your mane with a smile built on vapour
Dispelling your cares like windblown hay.

To gasp for air in the turquoise downtime
****** out your palms apon your knees,
Feel your chest convulse with effort
These flooding tensions gush to ease.

Whispering nothings are echoing softly
Silkily wafting from this side to there
Imparting the message that life is worth living
And crimson & scarlet diffuse in the air.

This ordinary day has done it’s thing now
Temperate airs have cooled to chill,
Vistas fade into the distance
Starlings flock upon the hill.

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
18 January 2008

Born on a mote of dust
Aloft into a deep blue sky.
High, high , beyond the white performing clouds, beyond the very mystery of the stratospheric jetstream;
Into the deep velvet ethereal zone
Where life cannot exist.

From thence to gaze down at the innocent blue globe, far, far below.
At the swirls and banks of striated cloud, at the deep green of lush field & forest and the tan of dry sandy desert lands.

Oh the spasm of love and longing I feel for my beautiful pristine orb.
The warmth and pride that I am the child of something so wondrously
Perfect and unique.

Momentarily I float in this absynth
Sweet cone of beauty and delusion….

And then I think of my brother man… I imagine all of the scurrying, teeming humanity below, preoccupied with individual importance and absolute deadlines and priorities and the withering urgency to maintain appearance….and the competitiveness and heartlessness which breeds that eternal, savage, ****** awful phenomenon of perpetual warfare!

I turn around …and above, the cold ink void with its myriad pinpricks of white sparkling starlight…A cataclysmic leap through time & space to God knows what….

Can innocence be retrieved from there?


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
5th March 2008

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

The assassins hit in 63
And Camelot was gone,
Inspiration vanished
And the darkness sang it’s song.
Vietnam escalated
Brezhnev’s Russia loomed,
Africa was eviscerated
And Red China entombed.
Floating on a long white cloud
The Kiwis were replete
With abundant British markets
For their butter, wool and meat.
The Europeans went ****
And Britain lost it’s way
When the Beatles and the Rolling Stones
Monopolized their day.
Man landed on the moon
And raised the Yankee flag
And they shot Mahatma Ghandi
For making good things out of bad.
The Berlin Wall dividing,
The Cold War tense and spare,
ICBM’s threaten silently
In their silos of despair.
Bob Menzies ruled Australia
As an amassing of his loot
And his White Australia Policy
Condemned him as a brute.
Found naked on her tousled bed,
Blonde hair across her face,
Marylin Monroe is dead
The world’s a darker place.
In the Age of Aquarius
Our children lost their youth,
LSD and smoking ***
And Afro’s were the proof.
Lots of leg in miniskirts,
High bouffant’s in the hair,
Screaming teeny boppers
Rock with Elvis on “the Air”.
Giant, Rawhide, Ponderosa,
Martin Luther King,
Kaftans and a cheese fondue,
Abortion is a sin!

It’s a sixties kaleidoscope,
A panoramic skim
Of an era of wonderment
Which you and I lived in.


Marshalg
@the Gate
Mangere Bridge
20th January 2009

To **** a sour lemon
Throws a tingle on your tongue
It makes you pucker up your cheeks,
Become aware that it’s so fun,
To eat your fruit fresh from the tree
And appreciate the sight
Of kaleidoscopic colours
And the flavour in each bite.

The cleanness of the feeling
When you munch into a pear
It’s the crispness of an apple
And the sweetness living there
Is so refreshing and enjoyable
It makes your senses sing
And the sunshine’s making patterns
In the red leaves by the spring.

The lovely smoothness of bananas
And the piquancy of fig
Strawberries had in season
Make you feel so roundly big
And the riot of sensation
When you bite into a grape
Really drives you to delirium
Which might leave your mouth agape.

Water melon rich in redness
And the tartness of a quince
A pineapple’s golden sweetness,
Many people do convince
Themselves that fruit is for the birds
But as far as I‘m concerned,
Fresh fruit is God’s own nectar
…And those are my final words.

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
19th May 2008

The wood room door was opened wide
I closed it firm last night.
I woke at four and felt it's breath
It gave me quite a fright.
I felt it's chilly, gentle breath
Exhaling on my brow
And upright in my skinny bed
Roared "Get thee gone ghost,
******* now!"


With naked shanks I padded forth
To set and light the fire
Whilst outside in the wilderness
I could hear the specter's ire,
It moved about deliberately,
It stalked outside my room.
I warmed my *** by fires heat
And cursed to dispel doom.


That icy feeling permeates
It reaches to the bone,
It is far to early for a call
Yet there's the ringing phone,
I listen to the vacant hiss,
There's no one there of course
So I bellow forth obscenities
And hang up with a curse.


Old Basil told me of the time
He watched with open mouth
Whilst a faceless man in hounds tooth coat
Glided past him from the south.
The housemaids tell with fear filled eyes
Of depressions on the bed
Where something sat and rested there
Laid down it's weary head.
Except the house was empty then,
Unoccupied by guests.
No cat nor dog nor friendly hog,
Nobody playing jests.


Some nights I walk the corridors
To see what I can see
And I fancy Thomas Dawson's ghost
Is quietly watching me,
For he only shows his bearded face
At the darkest witching hour
And it's usually in the dead of night
To the echo's of the old clock tower
When the mountain looms above the lodge
Enshrouded in the mist,
And the morepork calls its haunting sound
And the snow is moonlight kissed.



Marshalg
Dawson Falls Lodge
TARANAKI,New Zealand.
18th August 2008

Do your dreams lead  you up to Nirvana?
Do you travel on tendrils of foam?
Do you wake in the night?
Does your heart pound with fright?
Are you scared when they leave you alone?

Are you happy to be a good person?
Do you feel you deserve a good name?
Do you anxiously flout
All your money about
And try hard to accumulate fame?

Do you help when a baby is crying?
Do you lend when your best friend is poor?
Have you fought for your rights
In political fights
Or just stood by and noted the score?

Does your life feel spaciously empty?
Do you cry in despair in your bed?
Is the pointlessness true
Is it happening to you?
Do you dream you’d be better off dead?

Does it all seem a little like hard work?
Are you ******* before you begin
Should you shampoo both hands
And discard all those plans
And ignore the egg on your chin.

Are you angry and filled with frustration?
Have you ground your teeth with rage?
Have you mounted a fight
Before this day is night
And determined to turn a new page?

Are you coming together at long last?
Has the breeding come to the fore?
Is your spine now straight?
Has your heart lost it’s hate?
Are you showing your ****..the door?

Is euphoria blowing a fresh wind?
Are clear eyes  searching the shore?
Has a day not begun
Without blue sky and sun?
Have you dreamt love might happen once more?

The freshness and sparkle of raindrops,
The smell of new mown hay
Makes the being intense
It discards all pretense
And announces hope for this day.

Do your dreams lead you up to Nirvana?
Do you wake with a song in your heart?
Are you ready to fly
In this peppermint sky?
Or does something… set you apart?


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
18th December 2007

Trouble looms on yon horizon
Scan the body language near,
Signs of agitation pending
Thinning lips to eyes of fear.
Perspiration at the temple
Ire suppressed in florid face,
Amplitude of conversation
Hold the stance and maintain grace.
Pace yourself in torrid moments
Stand as though you know you’ll win,
Gird yourself for fiery challenge
Brace the strength you hold within.
Confrontation rears it’s mane
Conflict will now have it’s way,
Gird yourself for battle friend...
Initiate and win the day!
(Or take a breath and walk away.)


Marshalg
@theCoalface
Mangere Bridge
22 October 2009

In those days of woe with head hung low
In those moments of regret,
When your actions lose momentum
And your heart begins to fret.
When the best of plans do not work out
When your mountain seems too steep
And tractions lost in everything
And losing makes you weep.


Hard grafting wears your bones too thin
Your tomorrows fade to mist,
The splendour of your recent past
Despatched to moments missed.
Frustration that the rainbow plans
Have dwindled in the rain,
That your brilliant expectations
Have expired to things mundane.


Your stature has diminished
In the eyes of those you love,
Your capableness stultified
By the pointing velvet glove.
Self confidence is wilted now
Belief within less sure,
Potentialities diminishing
With every shrunken score.


Dark sombre thoughts receeding
Blue corners fade to gold,
Discontentment ****** asunder
As new amber dreams unfold.
The towering unhappiness
Diffuses to the air
And spirals of positivity
Emerge from here and there.


The path beyond the shadowed lane
Is there for you to tread,
Gird your soul for chance my friend
Discard the shoes of lead.
There must be dreams to savour
There must be goals to meet,
So launch your bold tomorrows
And delight in unknowns sweet.


You’re sailing in fair breezes now
The silver waters flow,
Warm sunshine on your shoulders
Rich contentment’s fine red glow.
For there must be dreams to savour
To hold within your heart,
To engage the thrill of living
And make each day a joy to start.


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
7 June 2009

Twice around the corner
Thrice around the bend,
Twisting through contortions
Will not make harassment end.
Disparagement aside
There's a lesson to be learnt,
That your overbearing manner
Won't prevent you being burnt.

The reflection in the mirror
Is immaculate and tight,
Actuality shows fractures
Though they're kept well out of sight.
There's a teetering fractiousness,
A blemish to your soul
And no amount of posturing
Will keep the image whole.

Your background is impressive
And scholastically well placed,
Achievement in endeavors
Show you've never been disgraced.
You're social stature's formidable
And your teeth are Oh so white,
Then why is it, that you writhe in bed
In the small hours of the night ?

Why do horrors permeate
The milky hue behind your eyes ?
What source the irritation
When the great majority complies ?
What keeps your ego dominant
When you see the weakness there,
When the light falls on your handiwork
And drives you to despair ?

Twice around the corner
Thrice around the bend,
To camouflage your character
Shall not make your problems end.


Marshalg
@theBach on sick leave
Mangere Bridge
13 October 2009

Dedicated to Ashley and Logan...May your young lives find the way.

You ***** and moan about your lot
You loath the rich and what they’ve got
You howl abuse that you’re so poor
You’re out the window, out the door
You’ve no place in this affluent land
And migrant Asians you can’t stand
The Moslems and the Poly’s too
Are barging in and breaking through
The things you value in this state,
They give you cause to vent your hate,
Beat them up or cut them down
Deport them, throw them out of town.
White supremacy’s your bag
Redesign the nations flag!

You gaze about and all around
The simple things in life abound,
The wonder of the detail small
Enthralls the mind and makes it all
Deliciously and so enticing,
Like sticky date and sugar icing
Like hoarfrost on the meadow green
The scent of love in sheets between,
The stuff you smoke, the scotch you choose
That muted trumpet’s low jazz blues,
Aroma of fresh coffee ground
The hum of honey bees around.

You step the walk and speak the talk
The loudness of a parrots squark,
The cooing of a nesting dove
The harshness of a boxers glove,
Hot sweating brow on summer’s night,
Those fingers freeze with winter’s bite.
The tangerine of that first kiss
That velvet touch of female bliss.
Soft golden glow of setting sun,
Dawns bright first rays when night is done.
The tempests howl, the zephyrs touch,
That feeling when you eat too much.

It all amounts to lifes great song
When all is right and nothings wrong
When dreams come true and every day
Enables you to laugh and say....
THANK YOU FOR THE CHANCE OF BEING
THANK YOU FOR THE SIGHT I’M SEEING,
THANK YOU FOR THE SMELL OF MINT
MY THANKS TO YOU FOR WORDS IN PRINT,
THE MAGIC OF A LATIN BEAT
THE SOFTNESS OF A KISS SO SWEET.

It’s all a state of mind you see
You bind your mind or set it free
You take the yin, you take the yan
You make your bed ,you choose your plan.
The way you think the way you live
Determines what you have to give
To this old planets state of being.
Stuff it up and you’ll be seeing
Disaster on a massive scale,
Social chaos off the pale.
Misery and  destitution,
Thuggery and prostitution.
Burnt out buildings torn up streets,
Corpses where the violence meets
The kiss of death, the chosen few
Consider boy, it may be you,
Lying there in that bleak place
Lying there in dead disgrace.


I’ll leave it there, it’s up to you
To choose to do or not to do
Tomorrow’s there for you to take
So grasp the prize or hesitate,
The dice roll out the bright coins spin
Go suffer loss or grab that win.
It’s all before you…spread about
You make the choice… YOU WORK IT OUT!

The simple things in life abound
The soft rains fall,
Our world spins round.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
10th September 2007

To sit upon this wooden chair
Before this plain white wall,
May seem, to you, to be quite odd
To me it does enthrall.
I take in all the vacant space
And let my eyes caress
The symmetry and peacefulness
…And I really must confess,
The nothingness before me
Draws me in, in such a way
As I wrap myself in plain, white wall
… my mind begins to play

From that tiny smudge of blue emerge
Kaleidescopes of clay
Which carouse across the vacant space
In a most artistic way,
In small concentric circles
In a patterned, frenzied style
They fill the background with mosaic
Of a gold and reddish tile,
With rooster tails of livid green
And dancing through the scene,
A spangled hand of aqua blue
Paints off a sequined theme.,
Some dancing naked maidens
Cavort pinkly in the pool
And a flight of silver satyrs
Scamper in and act the fool.
The roaring sound of raindrops,
The rush of welling tears,
There’s the thrill of my involvement
…and then “Ping” It disappears!

My plain white wall’s in front of me,
I’m sitting on that stool.
I sneak a peak, to check and see,
If someone’s being cruel.
My sister caught me out one day,
She roared with earthy glee
And pointed her fat finger
That girl made fun of me.
It’s really a small price to pay
To be a strange oddball.
I’d rather suffer this than leave
To watch ANOTHER wall.

I sit upon this wooden chair
Before this plain white wall,
May seem, to you, to be quite odd
To me it does enthrall…..

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
24 January 2008

Why do you spring straight out of bed
When frost and darkness cloak the morn ?
What makes you grit your teeth and run
Despite the wind and rain forlorn ?
How is it that you work each day
When aching bones demand respite ?
What makes you sit composing verse
When others sleep into the night ?


How do you face the alpha male
To snarl into his face in rage ?
What brings the courage forth for this
When reason says “Just turn the page” ?
What gives you steel to stand your ground
And fight for what you think is right ?
What makes you man enough to face
That which makes you shake with fright ?


Life’s living canvass lies before you
With it’s texture and it’s shades,
To take the pallet knife and slash
Rich vermilion through your days.
It renders layer upon layer
Of indulgence through your time
But a glint of social conscience
Always regulates the rhyme.


Why is it in the dark of night
When sleep skips forth evading you,
That demons creep on leathered feet
To wrack your conscience into view ?
How do you cope with horrors past
The bad deeds done, the slights, the shame ?
Remorsefulness invokes the cure
In a summons to a price of pain.


What motivates you, what moves you
In your quest for living right ?
What separates the wheat from chaff,
Or the sun from day and night ?
What separates the doing man
From he who sits to stew ?
....It’s the living worms that drive you
They crown you King of all you do.


Marshalg
@theCoalface
Mangere Bridge
23 May 2009

Laughter is hilarious
Deliriously fun
To bust a gut with laughter
Is to know this day is won!
Merriment is everything
When rolling on the floor
With a belly ache from laughing loud
And looking round for more.

A funny anecdote for breakfast
A chuckle hovers on your lips,
You smile into each others eyes
And explode in laughing fits.
The goodness felt in laughter
When you whoop and slap your knee
Is the soreness in your tummy
After laughter’s roaring glee!

Frantic chuckles, clenched white knuckles,
It’s getting out of hand
I cross my legs in agony,
I need to ***, you understand?
Hilariously funny
When you laugh yourself to ***
But embarrassing to run for home
Without letting someone see.

It feels good to be exhausted
To be breathless in the chest
In the aftermath of hilarity,
The infectious grin surpressed.
The boost to your endorphins
Releases all the stress
And the lovely smile remaining
Has made this happy day… THE BEST!

Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
2nd.March 2009

Wandering through tracks of life
Remind me of a play
Where the hero played his present scene
Then cancelled out each day
Where the memories of yesteryear
Just fade into the mist,
Where the joys and tears and ecstasy
Dispel, and nothing’s missed.
Where time consumes the very thought
That occupies each part
And leaves you with a vagueness
And a sadness in your heart.

When you walk and crush the daisies
When you strive and build the day
When you lead a child to laughter
With a funny face display.
When you deal with things of consequence
And guide the ship of state,
When you choose your favorite ice cream
And avoid the food you hate.
When the building blocks just vanish
And the structure disappears
When the moments flee like moving silk
And evaporate the years.

The day is still and foggy
There’s a tremor in the air,
I can hear a blackbird singing
And the sound is sweet and fair
As I sit in my seclusion
And quietly pass the time
I attempt to recall peoples names
And I can’t remember mine.
There’s a mistiness in being
And a sameness everywhere,
There’s a lack of expectation
And a drollness in despair.

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
8th March 2008

Dance to the tune of yesterdays promise
Hope for the pay out on another days win,
Cast around for that magical formula
Knowing that lotto is primarily spin.
Frantically poised with high expectations,
Ready to pounce on that first lucky break,
Keeping the ace card carefully hidden
Waste it and you'll be as mad as a snake.

What determines the gap between winners and losers,
What is the difference in the mode of approach?
Is the talent to guess what's round the corner
The key to dismantling this realm of reproach?
Happiness rests on a knife edge balance
Having too many is as bad as too few,
Suspicion that others are stealing it off you
Destroys you as much as poverty will do.

How many fat cats are really ecstatic,
How many lie awake in their beds?
Tossing and turning, worrying, burning.
Suspicion and avarice tormenting their heads.
On the other hand poorness is no picnic either,
Hardship and hunger are no friends of mine.
Destitution and cranial aimlessness....
Lost to the world and a great waste of time.

So what have you got? What is the answer?
Go for broke and ****** the cost?
Walk over your mates and live with the consequence
Or hold back and join the legions of lost?
As I walk through the valley of death I ponder,
Lost in this web of lust and intrigue,
Am I coming to terms with greed and confusion
Or going backwards and starting to bleed?

Marshalg
At the Gate
Mangere Bridge
4th January 2008

Down, into deep obsidian,
Where feelings cease to be
Where awareness, once so sprightly blue,
Is plunged beneath the sea.
Where awareness filled with feeling
Vanished darkly to abyss,
And the beauty of a lifetime
Discontinued to exist.
Where the history of yesteryear
Is snuffed out in a trite
And the memories of something great
Are lost to darkest night.

You can argue this is so unfair
That you’ve so much more to do,
You can point out how the family
Will suffer with out you.
You can demonstrate your value,
You can remonstrate your case
You can beat your breast with passion
…But it’s all wasted in this place.

This is death, this is death
Where nothingness is king
Where yesterdays tomorrow
Is a past, forgotten thing.
The grail of good and bad do meld,
The sweetness of a song
Is swallowed up in sorrow
And tomorrows light is gone.

O were it true that holy men
Would dispense words of grace,
That the marvel of an afterlife
Would gracefully replace
The turgid mist of vacuum,
And the hiss of vacant sound
With the scintillating presence
Of  yet another earthly round?

But alas… It’s all corruption
When your day of days doth come
You must close those eyes forever friend
…..For the living time is done.

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
28th March 2008

The stink of fish on earthen streets
A hot wind blows from ochre hills
Black faces shine with brilliant teeth
Street market ***** doth cure all ills.
Redness in her plaited hair
Rhythm in her steady tread
A harmony of balance, she carries
Water jars on her head.
A market girl is singing
As she sits among bananas
The drama in her music
Is as dusty as the street,
It fills the air with magic
As it lilts above street chatter
In the atmosphere of Africa
Where new and ancient meet.


The goat boy herds his docile flock
Through camel trains and bales
The steamer tethered at the dock
Announces that she sails
With billowed steam and mournful wail
It echoes through the town
And the planter and his agent
Bargain with a harried frown.
The bleating of the goat herd
And the stench of fish and dung
Is as ordinary as Africa
In the searing mid day sun.


Zanzibar is spices, Zanzibar is Stone.
Club Zanzibar is whiskey on the rocks
Consumed alone
Or shared upon the balcony
In the shadow of a palm
With the turquoise Indian ocean
Reaching out beyond the arm.
Do you see the dhows are sailing?
Do you see the fishing nets?
Do you hear the oarsmen chanting?
Did you see black muscle flex?
Have you watched the dripping sweat
Cascade on alabaster brow?
Have you inhaled the scent of Africa
And allowed it to allow?



Colobus monkeys in the treetops
Narrow lanes in the bazaar
Dull white walls adorn stone buildings
And the rupee is by far
The favorite tenure of the Island
Since the days when slaves were sold
By Arab camel caravaners
Who traded coin for young black gold.
East and west collide in concert
Africa and Asia blend
The Sultan's mix of race and spice
In Zanzibar, beyond lands end.


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
3rd June 2008

When she walks past in her loveliness
Do your nostrils twitch and flare ?
Do your senses swell with passion
When you see her standing there ?
Are  you proud to walk quite near her ?
Do you feel you're standing tall ?
Are there any compromises,
Is there any doubt at all ?
Is there joy in your tomorrows,
Do your expectations soar ?
Does she make you feel exalted,
Do you float above the floor ?
Is there magic in the very air
You breath into your chest ?
Are your achievements exceeding
Your considered, very best ?
Do you love her and want her
And worship her smile ?
Would you sacrifice all
To be acknowledged for a while ?

Marshalg
@theBach
12 August 2009