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Marshal Gebbie Jul 2018
Too long this rot has run its course, too much the damage done
When men deflect acknowledged glance, they know that wrong has won.
Across this land and far afield the wrongness seeps within
And pride becomes a memory through distant halls of spin.
How can we bow to tyranny, how can we shy away
From that which causes  eyes to slide.... and coaxes will to sway?
To tolerate the bombast, the bullying, the lies
Succumbing to a hopelessness, which, both we despise.
Division in the nation, uproar in between
A man and wife’s contention-ness beyond what should be seen
Brothers loathing brothers, silence in the room
Where a word  uttered wrongly can erupt to screaming soon.
Allies left in tatters, trust is cut to shards
Tariffs injudiciously, imposed to **** the cards.
International uproar, industry in strife
Teetering disastrously when NATO flees the knife.

Putin sits and rubs his hands, hilarious the show
Disorder and disharmony to lubricate his glow.
Beijing sits inscrutably, always opportune
Manoeuvring judiciously, in place, to call the tune.

America, the isolate, sails away to sea
Blondini, at the helm, wears smirk indulgently.

M.
The White House
HAMILTON NZ
12th July 2018
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2009
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
Marshal Gebbie May 2010
It's unfortunate that Parisians
Are very hard to bear,
In terms of flash obsequiousity,
They drive me to despair!
And patience is an attribute
I don't profess to have
To mercifully administer
When accents veer to Slav.

Baltics look like jellyfish,
The Germans are obscene
And loud and overbearing
But the Swiss are very clean.
Italians are a swarthy lot
Who gourmandize on food
And sacrifice their suavity
By being impudently crude.
The Spanish are no better,
In fact they are probably worse,
For obsessing in the blood sports
I actually rate them in reverse.

Starchiness is British
They're convoluted to the core,
The Old Boy system's lost it's sheen
Aspirants flock to it no more.
The Yanks are looking slightly crass
Whilst fighting foreign wars,
Their pinky held up squeaky clean
To call "foul" to China's flaws.
China sits inscrutably
Holding all the cards
Waiting for the moment
To strike beneath the guards.

India and Pakistan
Are squabbling like kids
The uproar over Kashmir
Rates them lower than the Yids.
The Yids are walking tightropes
With Iran's nuclear ******,
Whilst currying Yank approval,
Eventual bombing is a must.
The Dutch behave so anally
They're always proven right
When faced with rigid negatives
They blanch with haunches tight.

But not the Argentineans
They love to dance and flirt,
To chase the senorita
Cavorting in the scarlet skirt.
The South Pacific's wallowing
They're adrift from World affairs
Oz's self preoccupation
Mirrors Kiwi's vacant stares.
Africa's way past comment
Lost to heat and dust,
Warfare, **** and pillage
And the rest decayed by rust.

Eskimos are OK
Clean living on the ice
The population static,
Zer-O pollution's nice!

Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
14 April 2009
The sky was ablaze like glass in the church;
recumbent on stone floors / we had knocked out

the windows to let in only the blind light,
the blind arches that pointed heavenward, now yawning

narcoleptic houses of God grasping at sky and god
somehow / we captured daylight in our hands / we were

yearning for ourselves again between long hours of waiting
we believed in gods that breathed that great sky, we believed

in the breadth of cosmos more dazzling
than the church doors that we blew asunder

in that latter architecture where we decided the height
& breadth of the pillars in their proportions like

the proportions of man, exhausted & exaggerated,
man exalted, exaudi, exaudi, voca meam quam olim Abrahim

praises to all our lords on high, we sang in drunk
communion hailing, our communion with one another,

all of us there on the stone flags, hands in hands
we beat at the chests of each other, the eyes of each other

(we were just kids beating off to one thing or another)
and it was *** and chaos between those stone walls, it captured

us, bewildered us, those yawning heavens under the church ceiling,
the one that blazed with the dazzling color of windows

covered in dust like our skin the way it crept along the stone
and we craved it and the way that it seemed to creep,

the sky seemed to creep above us, seethed with light
some days we didn’t know which way was light, up

or lower down, it was usually easy to tell after you came
but we exhausted our voices, exaudi exaudi orationem meam

believing that something would hear us—we heard ourselves
more clearly in the throes of ******, nothing was more alive

more human, than anything, than anything that sang like that blazing
sky/ so we tossed ourselves forward into lightward, lightness

dazzling ourselves with light / it was the summer of everything closing /
the bewildering truth of our own god in cells and precious molecules

we made god in the throes of ******, worshipping in the dazzling sky
we had to propel ourselves forward, it was our stunning captivation

with that dazzling maze of flesh on the yearning sky, hands
searching inscrutably for hands, for god in the feverish sky, god

who doesn’t live in the sky, the god who climbs
with us, the god who screams in our ****** with us,

exaudi, exaudi, orationem meam, ad te omnes caro veniet…
Sam Marlowe Feb 2013
I have grown to love this island that ships
pass in the distance so that clouds
and their sails are obscured. Whatever winds
compel the ships are laden with ropes.

The island is inscrutably free of vegetation.
My vision unhindered extends beyond Asia.
Animals I cannot describe cannot be said to prowl;
rather they perform a pavanne on the strand like a carousel.

I have received letters expressing remorse
from acquaintances who rue my isolation;
but there is a bird long thought extinct that soars
above the island and its songs are my inspiration.
Love.
Love is.
Evermore.
Love is always.
Undeniably,
Indefatigably,
Indescribably,
Insatiably,
For­ever.
Always.
Is.

Love.
Love lasts.
Tirelessly.
Love is always.
Unconquerably,
Indeterminately,
Imperviously,
Inscrutably­,
Immortal.
Always.
Lasts.

Love.
Love lives.
Timelessly.
Love is always.
Interminably,
Interconnectedly,
Independently,
Incredibly­,
Infinite.
Always.
Lives.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
I install myself in between the cushioned seats
Absorbed by the spectacle: a smile splashed across your face as you emerge from the door and through the corridors
Towards me.

The stress that once loomed over me like clouds
Sailed south as you entered right into my periphery
Like how the magnatic mountains stole my breathing capabilities
So did you in a second

I want you to experience the beauty of what is to come
You say loftily,
Inscrutably.
And we traveresed the living room
Out the door
Over the cobblestones
OnTo the stooping hills

Suddenly
We were enshrouded in the mysterious white mist
With white capped waves crashing nearby
Enjoying the serene peace and quiet.
It seemed a little too good to be true.

Showing off that smug look
You quickly fill the empty spaces betwixt my fingers
With a thrill coursing in your blood into mines.
And there we were floating to the top of the world.
Unstoppable.
Immortal.
Untouchable.
Arlene Corwin Jul 2017
It Has Been A Lifetime Of…

It has been a lifetime of, well, meditation:
Meditation/prayer, prayer weaker
(more appeal and supplication
Than an offering without a question).

Not really lifetime, I admit, but,
Years and years of seeking It,
Approaching It, trying to find, bind Arlene
With hope that she’ll become more than a hopeless dope;
Hope and that arcane, otherworldly word
That rhymes with earth and mirth and forth and wraith:

“What can it be?”(said she inscrutably).
Of course, it’s faith!
The hardest of the hard.
(Don’t let them kid you what they say they’ve got it)
Faith both gift and hard, hard practice.
Owning, losing day to day.

It’s been a lifetime – that’s for sure.
But life continues now to now:
Day to day, year to year
And meditation and the prayer
(Each in its place) continue too.
The real me
Still uncompleted
As of our poetic meet
This very heartbeat.

It’s Been A Lifetime Of…7.13.2017
The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Pure Nakedness;
Arlene Corwin
A lifetime yes, but lifetime is not over.
This ragamuffin schleps with leaden gait
     weighted down like Atlas of yore
like that Greek titan upon massive shoulders
     the worldly wide web he wore

if a corporeal being incarnate,
     would be friended on social networks fig ure
especially mythological creations exiled,
     reviled and sent to river elba shore

the lowest watermark of Napoleon,
     and one exemplifying the je nais say quor
my life and hard times as if concocted
     from mind of Charles Dickens or

another deft writer with an abysmally dim,
     groveling vagabond less o more
who experienced rejection
     at every turn muttering to join canine korps

wonder why in this tar nation,
     he got saddled with prestigious title of warrior
truth be told suffered psychological
     stress disorders at veep fog hatted
     Alberts’ epistemological environmental
     global germinal garrulousness galore,

whose hoped friendship glued, clinched,
     billed as storied AA Milne’s eyore
whose jarring inscrutably heavy
     glum footsteps exerted downtrodden chore
impressing mental state with angst,
     whence Hades and river Styx did allure!
Kaleidoscopic Whorled Wide Web.

Against light source well crafted
tubular structure appended with eyepiece gazing
offers viewer eye-opening, mind boggling
instantaneously birthing then vanishing
resplendent myriad colorful geometric

awesome shifting shapes hypnotizing
sight seer into a whirling ******,
where multifaceted fractals display pin-wheeling
arithmetically perfect  triangulate squarely
with proportionate arcs astounding

with blind faith on microscopic scale
analogous to cosmic big bang spell-binding
mankind from time immemorial when
her/his gaze turned heavenward peering
into the azure vault – one macrocosmic

hint per the origin from when on-looking
proto-humans ruminated inscrutably
enamored at the spectacular eminence grise
forever holding mystery of
universe evolution in shrouded secret
continually mystifying one generation

after another until twenty first century astro-physicists
begin unravel evolutionary tale
writ small on planet earth yet storied tome
pried open from scientific revolutions
enabling birth of cosmos honed with more

fine tuned precision to zero in
on precise second whence explosion filled void
with nebulous material coalescing
into rudimentary galactic masses generating
vast surfeit of globular structures evincing

conically swirling
millennially futuristic clear cut entities
upon which one – namely gaia
finds this sole member **** sapiens
reveling in his makeshift primitive contrivance

teasing ocular sense with visual *******
begetting thought provoking questions
into this eternal wonderment
that perchance some intelligent deity
willfully rotates planet like some plaything
synonymous with mere mortal peering
into magic of kaleidoscope!
this ragamuffin schleps with a leaden gait weighted down like Atlas of yore
like that Greek titan upon massive shoulders the worldly wide web he wore
if a corporeal being incarnate, would be friended on social networks fig ure
especially mythological creations exiled, reviled and sent to river elba shore
the lowest watermark of napoleon and one exemplifying the je nais say quor
my life and hard times as if concocted from thee mind of Charles Dickens or
another deft writer with an abysmally dim, groveling vagabond less o more
who experienced rejection at every turn muttering to join the canine korps
wonder why in this tar nation he got saddled with prestigious title of war ior
truth be told suffered psychological stress disorders at veep fat alberts’ gore
whose hoped for friendship glued, clinched, billed as storied AA Milne’s eyore
whose jarring inscrutably heavy glum footsteps exerted downtrodden chore
impressing mental state with angst, whence Hades and river Styx did allure!
Michael Marchese Mar 2021
But what do I know
About love
I just felt
A sensation of chemicals,
Offered myself
Like a writer
Seeks constant
Revision of draft
Like an artist
Peaks new inspiration
Of craft
I committed,
Devoted
A faith to its leap
As I countered a culture
That from me would keep
This phenomenal,
Pheromone
Fatal attraction
Fixated upon
A romantic abstraction
No, it to me
Far less inscrutably
Came
At first sight
And in every day after
In pain
against light source well crafted
tubular structure appended with
eyepiece gazing offers viewer eye-
opening, mind boggling instantaneously
birthing then vanishing resplendent

myriad colorful geometric awesome
shifting shapes hypnotizing sight
seer whirling ****** where multi
faceted fractals display pin-wheeling

arithmetically perfect  triangulate squarely with
proportionate arcs astounding with blind faith
on microscopic scale analogous to cosmic big bang
spell-binding mankind from time immemorial when
her/his gaze turned heavenward peering into
azure vault – one macrocosmic hint per origin
from when on-looking proto-humans ruminated

inscrutably enamored at the spectacular eminence grise
forever holding mystery of universe evolution
in shroud of secret continually mystifying
one generation after another until twenty first
century astro-physicists begin to unravel evolutionary
tale writ small on planet earth yet storied tome

pried open from scientific revolutions enabling
birth of cosmos honed with more fine tuned precision
to zero in on precise second whence explosion filled void
with nebulous material coalescing into rudimentary
galactic masses generating vast surfeit of globular
structures evincing

conically swirling
millennially futuristic clear cut entities
upon which one – namely gaia
finds this sole member **** sapiens reveling
in his makeshift primitive contrivance

teasing ocular sense with visual *******
begetting thought provoking questions
into eternal wonderment that perchance
intelligent deity willfully rotates planet
some plaything synonymous mere mortal
peering into magic of kaleidoscope.
(adrift within lightness of being
coaxed via mediation earlier this evening
idyllic revery spontaneously issuing
a natural narcotic psyche experienced
self nurturing
setting fugurative stage for yawping.)

Against light source well crafted
tensile strong totally tubular
structure appended with eyepiece
gazingoffers viewer eye-opening,
mindboggling instantaneously

birthing then vanishing resplendent
myriad colorful geometric awesome
shifting shapes hypnotizing sight seer
into a whirling ******, where
multifaceted fractals display
pin-wheeling arithmetically perfect  

triangulate squarely with pro
portionate arcs astounding with
blind faith no more on microscopic
scale analogous to cosmic big
bang spell-binding mankind from

time immemorial, when her/his
gaze turned heavenward peering
into the azure vault, one macrocosmic
hint per origin from when on-looking
proto-humans ruminated inscrutably
enamored at spectacular eminence

grise forever holding mystery of
universe evolution in shroud of secret
continually mystifying one generation
after another until twenty first century
astro-physicists begin to unravel
evolutionary tale writ small on planet

earth yet storied tome pried open from
scientific revolutions enabling birth
of cosmos honed with more fine tuned
precision to zero in on precise second,

whence explosion filled void with
nebulous material coalescing into
rudimentary galactic masses generating
vast surfeit of globular structures evincing
conically swirling millennially futuristic

clear cut entities upon which one
namely Gaia finds this sole member
**** sapiens reveling in makeshift
primitive contrivance teasing ocular
sense with visual ******* begetting

thought provoking questions into this
eternal wonderment that perchance some
intelligent deity willfully rotates planet
like some plaything synonymous with
mere mortal peering into magic kaleidoscope.
what else... his trademark blatherskite!

While sprawled comfortably
numb upon davenport
Iowa daily dose of poetic mishmash,
thus yours truly couches, kneads, sports...
his imponderable matted
swiftly styled balderdash
noah intent to kindle
potential ark enemy, nor abash

please pardon your
garden variety philologos,
preparing himself for backlash
he spouts nonsense words
with chutzpah and brash
his logorrhea affliction begets
meaningless rot i.e. namely ishkabibble,
where scapegoated test dummies crash

inscrutably, dumbly, busily blankly
boxing, blinking, batting... eyelash
hijacking, flouting, disregarding... covenant,
not causing corpus callosum damage
basically self made edict equals hogwash,
within one North American banana republic
predicated upon fiat gnash
trumpets blatantly non subliminal,

subordinate, subtle... ** hum
messages cuz bosh to liberty we smash
with most popular refrain
"send her/him back" cash
hearing purported dispensable
deportee with swash-
buck killing bravado
marquee, where klieg lights
blindingly broadcast in a flash.

"FAKE" mania loosed doth stall
refugees, where desperation witnesses
land of milk and honey,
perhaps some heading to Broomall,
who if necessary crawl
escaping forced *** trafficking poverty,
persecution, violence... downfall,
viz puppet government

tricked out noble (no bull) border wall
configured as demilitarized zone
hostilility spewing noxious,
poisonous, venomous gall
courtesy commander in chief
who essentially hoops to forestall
his impeachment proceedings
bristling, ranting, scathing... twitter feeds

spewing bosh raining hatred filled squall
spouting jingoistic rhetoric
atop anointed hall
of the mountain king
eerily similar to Taj Mahal
firing expletive epithets

assenting military mandating withdrawal
loosing vicious police and/or junkyard dogs
declaring no exemption against marshall
law innocence absolute zero guard
as sharp teeth nsync with flesh maul
cue hideous sinister laughter
welcome to danse macabre ball!
Jamie Richardson Aug 2020
water at dawn
runs by fingertips
onto cold stone
as a robin intones
ripe throated
staccatos
that bounce
along walls
that have seen it all

should I
be happy
wasting days
plotting the gap
between taste
and ability
under giddy sun
that announces all
with just a few
spare syllables

I made a song
to enchant the night
like Scheherazade
striving to hold off
the encroachment
of decree
but I come apart
at the seams
snagged
on the narcissism
of nostalgia

those bright
waterfalls of dust
continue to gather
in fine heaps
by the curtain
and a brown river
smokes on
eddying
inscrutably
in the deep

we are
migratory animals
who never
really move
I won’t live
this day again
though I
live it again
a thousand times
orchestration, and utilization,
a moss fungi (fun guy) attests his marriage
synonymous with symbiotic relationship.

Nostalgic acquiescence about fictitious life,
oblivescence about current travails
and reminiscence about
transcendence into utopia
prompts me to revisit livingsocial,
now that yours truly
among the grateful dead.

As a saprophyte,
the missus buzzfeeds off me lovely bones
once plump with excess adipose tissue
otherwise known as body fat,
a connective tissue
that extends throughout body electric
found under your skin (subcutaneous fat),
between your internal organs (visceral fat)
and even in the inner cavities of bones
(bone marrow adipose tissue).

Over the ensuing two score and ten years
after pledging our troth, the missus
(opposed with a vehemence
keeping her maiden name,
or even acquiescing
maintaining surname
with hyphae fun nation),
and yours truly at one time or another
from the day we met
until the present moment

invariably, intolerantly, intimately,
intentionally, intemperately, insultingly,
insufficiently, insidiously, insincerely,
insensitively, insensibly, inscrutably,
inquietly, injuriously, inhospitably,
inharmoniously, infuriatingly, infernally,
inexorably, ineffably, indubitably,
indescribably, indelibly, incredibly,
increasingly, incessantly, incalculably,
ineluctably molded unnamed spouse.

Truth be told, the grudging acceptance to wed
made indirectly and courtesy
unbeknownst and linkedin
to our unborn eldest daughter
about four months in utero,
when marriage date chosen
July twenty fifth nineteen ninety six
since yours truly and my then girlfriend
abstained from birth control
tantamount to playing Russian roulette,
and decided to let natural insemination
trigger conception between
twelve and twenty four hours after ovulation.

Neither of us the least bit prepared
economically nor emotionally,
which urge to procreate
superseded sense and sensibility,
and in retrospect,
I readily admit flagrant
negligent ****** recklessness
(no matter physical ******* monogamous),
and an adamant refusal to use prophylactic
or more commonly known as ******.

Though excited to sow seminal seeds of life
a panic stricken state afflicted me,
when consensual concurrence
to consummate copulation occurred,
nevertheless ecstasy at potential fatherhood
brought courtesy the resultant
unexpected positive result
yielded from pregnancy kit.

Back in the day libidinal longing
(in my pinion) wracked ****
of accursed celibate
Norwegian bachelor farmer wannabe,
where merest suggestion
of ******* thoughts
hounded doggone muttering
dove head lettered man
all the way to Antioch
feverish pitch I could not block
found mine doodling ****
to crow night and day
without let up to dock
****** solitude a worse fate
than therapy zapping gray matter
with wave after wave oven electroshock,
a divine sterling erectile rod
hoping gallivanting frisky felines would flock.
Arlene Corwin Oct 2020
Just Plain Old Words

No metaphors, just plain old words:
A bunch to delve, dive into
For contentment’s sake,
Rummaging for further knowledge,
Contemplating, taking
Into cells which in themselves
Have not a gauge
But are a gauge in which to
Fit a language
Which, by some unworldly process,
Influences what we are, what we become
As hours pass,
Floundering and pondering;
Wond’ring at their wondrousness.

Metaphors and other symbols;
Explicating parables;
Simple, concrete; toys to play with,
Stay with day to day
Until their meanings stick.

The mystery
Is how the words,
Compiled, piled up and side by side
Get to be our poetry.
Inscrutably a mystery,
Verily!

It’s easy to believe, receive,
The starting point was Word,
A sound  whose purpose was to spread,
Promote, communicate with,
Circulate mankind.

That he’s not always kind
Is yet another theme
For other times
In other poems
With words in herds
Or one or two
From folk like me to folk like you.

Just Plain Old Words 10.17.2020 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditating II; Arlene Nover Corwin

— The End —