Standing on the hillside is a rustic yellow cottage,
Rusty yellow staining from the steel dust of the trains.
Passing, rushing carriages that crisscross by the hour,
The ten o clock from Frankston meets the City train detained.

Golden light of sunrise in the calm of early morning
Golden light reflected on the rusty cottage roof,
Puffing at his briar and sitting at the doorstep
Old Grandpa drinks the peacefulness whilst stroking cat aloof.

Bacon smells a-beckoning from coal range fires a-glowering
Delicious tang of coffee from my Granma’s breakfast fare,
The clattering of silver wheels as silver rails reverberate
Sings the music of the morning with not a trace of care.

Memories from yesteryear I treasure on reflection,
Memories, a little boy, recalled from times secure.
Memories of cuddles in the ***** of my Grandma
And the scent of plum tobacco giving Grandpa’s pipe allure.

Perhaps a trick of memory, perhaps my passing fancy
But I clearly recall a sign above the kitchen door,
A simple sign of welcome with a sense of real belonging
In the gentle name of “Sunrise” to warm the heart galore.


Marshalg
In memory of my dear Nan and Pop Cummings @ Mordialloc by the bay.
23 April 2013

In the sizzle of the sauna I sat near a fellow
A giant and as black, my friends, as black as pitch could be,
Gentle eyes and gentle voice, melodious in cadence
It reminded me of the music of the singing whales at sea.
From Georgia in the deep south, friends, a basket ball pro player
And as pleasant a man, my friends, as you could wish to meet,
Coaches the kiddies be they black, white or yellow, friends,
Coaches the kiddies throwing hoops in the street.
You just don't meet a Prince in the sizzle of the sauna
But I'll tell you, my friends, I'll tell you this for free,
That a better Ambassador for mankind and Maker
Has just not been apparent, friends, apparent to me.
He held out his hand, and smiled, and asked in passing,
Asked me my name as I rose to take my leave,
I felt the strength of the grip of that firm hand in clasping
And found me a friend, my friends, a good friend I believe.

Marshalg
Making a friend in the heat of the sauna
26 April 2013

Murmurings of memories
Whispering in my ear,
Nuances of notions felt
From long ago, so dear,
Nuances of feelings held
From deep within my breast
Like the quiet stroll by lakeside
When love became our quest.

The way our fingers intertwined
That shyness in your eyes,
And the lovely way you giggled
And the way you softly cried,
The gentle touch of fingertips
That time I kissed your palm,
And the glory of the setting sun
Whilst strolling arm in arm.
Running up the golden sand
As white surf swept our feet,
And laughing at the joy of it
The  magic so, so sweet.

And now ….
Those distant murmuring’s
just trickle down the years,
Those nuances of yesteryear
Sweet whispers in my ears.

Marshalg
11 May 2013
Pukehana

Unimpressed by excess,
(gluttony doesn't strike a chord with me)
Contrarily, I forever seek more,
but rather than in quantity, I prefer in degree.  

I demand extremes.

If its hot,
I want it to blaze;
If its difficult,
I want it to incapacitate.
If its confusing,
I want it to dizzy me to the point of vomiting.
I want to shake and storm about,
and overwhelm and be overwhelmed.

I demand extremes.

Words need intent and meaning.
If they are meant to inspire,
they better make me ******* soar.
Biting words should drain the victim,
make them bleed,
instead of simply causing discomfort
or stunning momentarily.

I demand extremes.

Why say it,
when I can scream it?

Why just feel it,
when I can be consumed by it?

I  can't just idly sit by and watch my life
but rather I must fight and struggle and
lash out at it violently.
Days are long and meant to be conquered
and nights are meant to be devoured.

Why be content to just live life
when you can beat the **** out of it instead?

*Just don't be surprised when it returns the favor

I want eyes like glitter
And lips like gold
A voice full of thunder
Nothing more

For him to take me away
And give me beautiful disasters
He who brings me to my knees
And makes life worth living once more

for oh so long you stayed,
ripping my heart and brain to shreds,
stealing away my innocence,
willing me to do awful, dreadful, things,
that sounded beautiful coming out of your mouth,
you said it was the answer,
and I was foolish enough to
believe.
you said it would help, and it did and didn't.
you said that it would make me feel better,
you pried and pried and I caved.
and let my mind take over my actions.
and let the feelings sink away.
and so you hid,
ran away to a little corner,
making me believe I was free of this addiction, free of your grasp, free of your pounding fists upon my lungs,
and so I tried, and tried and tried and tried,
and it wasn't worth it,
because your drag me so slow that,
half way back, felt just like the beginning.
felt jus like a half real smile, felt like a half way honest comment,
but you see,
your imaginary leave of absence,
led me to believe,
I was out, I was done,
I was
better.
but, maybe you should have just stayed,
because,
now your back,
and while I thought I was climbing, I was sinking,
even lower than before,
where there is no branch for me to use,
where the light, is a figment of my imagination,
so your back, and thriving, feeding off of there beautiful comments,
gaining control through someone else's words, and actions,
so you have retuned.
will you stay, or put me under that spell again?
will you finish your intentions,
or will I prevail?