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Marshal Gebbie Jan 2014
Our Lady visits places where no man has trod asunder
Places where the hand of time has kept them from the sun,
Places where the roiling earth hath ground to rend like thunder
Where history, as we know it now, had barely, then, begun.

With elegance she burrows forth, with elegance a seeking
Tended by her retinue of young, admirers’ lithe,
With elegance she sinuously writhes within containment,
To elegantly strive to shape her contour, uncontrived.

So femininely fabulous, admired by all and sundry
Her deadlines met assiduously, taken in her stride.
Secretly she smiles the smile of one who dwells thereunder
Who secretly entrances with her quiet performing pride.

Fare welled on her journey by adoring crowd and bunting,
Fare welled midst a sea of flags by rotund Prince and child
To coyly disappear from sight with retinue of admirers
To reappear with fanfare in a year, to drive men wild.

Sinuously spinning in her secret world beneath us,
Spinning and beguiling in uniquely female way,
Alice holds our promise in sweet dreams and aspirations
Our Subterranean Goddess…Our Lady of the Day.


Marshalg
Plant Co-ordinator
The Wellconnected Consortium
AUCKLAND.
27 January 2014

**Alice is our giant tunnel boring machine. She is currently 40 m beneath parkland and housing in Owairaka, Auckland. In 12 months she will emerge at Waterview to be spun around to burrow the return tunnel back to the point of origin. These tunnels will form the completing stages of the modern motorway system in Auckland. The system, which will be completed in 2017, will revolutionise the existing transport network and benefit the people of Auckland and New Zealand for decades to come.
Thandiwe Jun 2014
Views, words and set rules.
Time has befriended me yet I have no time for anything.
Resting. Soul has searched and found nothing.
“Our souls have long bonded before our bodies met.”
Cling to that hope, string of regret.
Soon or not…life will begin.
Stamped under society’s sin,
Has there been a vision of a better love.
Connected beyond what we’ve been taught.
Pave these paths to suite our walks still to be covered.
Dreams to be recovered, leave behind. The clones looking forward to the “to happen.”
Why then do they have eyes aglow with questions.
Pre-requsit of past mistakes they’ve imprinted themselves on my decisions.
Correct the false generations.
Exhausted by the dawns of more downs.
These upset frowns, mistaken for unknown smiles.
Taken miles to revolutionise these minds.
No where near the assigned soul.
Gauge out centres of my gold.
No return it feels, cheap thrills.
What a stony journey,
Breezy by and sweeping away reality.
Have we still got the trust instilled,
Is He still enthroned, why then do times keep us so constantly disturbed.
No more entrance nor exists…
When his beauty drown this sadness.
Why has so much of me been robbed?
Swapped by weary and exhausted pieces held together by hope.
So much sense has been polluted,
Left hallow and un-rooted.
Abundantly blessed and grateful for the joys. Seamed together with blinding glows.
All* of us have one thing in common
We all have dreams  and  desires
It's what makes us humanity
Different from other organisms; unique

Dreamers are optimists
Clinging onto their vibrant visions
Through turmoil  and  hardship
Through chaos  and  pain
Their souls are held tightly with their dreams

Our aspirations help us get through the present
Whilst Making glamorous plans for the future;
Some plan to revolutionise the world
Whilst others dream of singular success

No dream is too big or small
It all depends on the eye of the beholder
Yet one thing is no doubt crystal clear
*Any dream you work for will come true
Dream big every one of you and you'll do wonders
Joanne Heraghty Mar 2016
'Is forgiveness possible?' You ask.
Come here for a moment, and I’ll tell you what I think.
Look around and see it all from my eyes,
You might miss something if you blink.

You’re asking a society in isolation,
If they wish to revolutionise their peace,
By bringing up their ancestors from their graves,
Just so six counties can be released.

Can you hear yourself, and your foolish words?
Can you not see the same people I do?
What on Earth are you actually expecting to achieve,
When I’m not sure our ancestors even knew.

Isolation is a fairly heavy word.
It says more than any other.
But it’s true, look at them sitting there,
Texting, and ignoring each other!

That device they’re holding in their hands,
Connects them to a world far wider than Earth
All they care about are the people they know,
They consider their location to be nothing but dirt.

I live in this isolated time.
I feel loneliness while I sit amongst the crowd.
At times I feel the need to speak,
But then I fear my voice will be too loud.

Let them go, let them go their ways,
You’re the only one who cares anymore.
We once wanted unification, we once stood as brothers..
But that was all before.

It haunts me that innocents died for no worthy cause,
While laws passed under tyrant rule.
But you must accept that history is unchangeable,
And that the truth is, this world is cruel.

When I seen your question, I asked myself,
What on Earth is to be forgiven?
That was 100 years ago, a different time altogether
To the one that we’re now living!

You’re asking an anti-social society, who would protest that label,
To forgive people they didn’t, and will never, know.
From day one, 1916 has been a legend for us,
One we had to accept as reality. And let it go.

I think we’ve all gotten on in the present tense,
Despite our constant struggle to adapt to change.
There are dreamers amongst us, who think like the rebels did,
But in this society, they’re considered to be strange.

I’d say the majority would now oppose home rule.
As they can see our government stands for everything but respect,
With empty promises being made just to gain the necessary voting quota,
So they can make negative impacts to our lives and economy once they’re elected!

We’re all thankful for the seven members of the IRB Minister’s Council,
Who fought, and died, in the hope of our fate.
But I think Yeats was right making reference to beauty,
When he encapsulated our current state.

We have all found our ways through the darkness,
Without following in the footsteps of Plunkett’s eight-hour wife,
Who proved Plunkett and all his friend’s died in vein,
As she let the dark encase her for the rest of her life.

I hope my opinion is more than just my own,
And you may one day see it as yours too.
Because forgiveness is no longer necessary,
Now that, as you see, we’re surrounded by a generation anew.

We are united, even though it may not be as our ancestors hoped.
Forgiveness is possible, you should be asking if acceptance is, though.
Because if you took a look around, to see what I see,
You wouldn’t need me to answer you. Because you too, would let go.
26 February 2016

Copyright © All Rights Reserved Joanne Heraghty
The minister for vitamins
(Specifically D)
Climbed down from the cabinet
To make some mint tea
To give to the patients
With their hammocks for beds
And ginger-scented ointment
For their pain-filled heads
It was then he told me
(With a smirk on his face)
That he intended to win
The next supplementary debate
With a brand-new policy
For the short and long run
That would revolutionise the industry!
Cod liver oil! For everyone!
"Of course," he whispered
"It's not a sure thing,"
"That B12 **** has got funding,"
"Supporters in Beijing!"
But still, he was confident
That his plan would suffice
After all, his mint tea and ointment
Did smell very nice.
archana May 2020
Enticing smiles
Wretched hearts
They're all clawing at me.
My skin a mere fragment healing,
looks through the stifling pain.
I have an entire life to spend, alone.
Collecting memoirs, Indigo shaded lilies
And heart-shaped bruises
Coloured like my veins.
Enticing smiles.
They give you a lot to believe in.
To rewrite the philosophies you own.
To revolutionise your mind.
Glimpses of heaven.
And the sea bed.
But they're enticing smiles
and so they are gone before
you realise.
Jay Apr 2018
let me

speak my
autumn leaves
and the consequences of their
swirl

of naked pale trees
shivering

talk calmly  
to the melted snow flakes
revolutionise with the icy wind

purl alongside spring fishes
upstream

breathe dense air
down my sore chest

let me
confess my
storm

make peace
at last
with the
shifting of seasons

— The End —