The regions’ magic carpets are a-beckoning
The brassware in the back bazaars aglow,
Exotic spice is nice
For a very reasonable price
And the camel market’s just the place to go.


But…


Afghanistan’s dark Muslims are scheming
The women folk are sharpening their knives,
When foreign troops depart
The bloodletting will start
With collaborators screaming for their lives.


The children of the Ottoman are smarting
For their neighbours are showing them disdain
By peppering with bombs
Along with Syria’s pogroms
And I wonder why the local folk complain?


Oh the sun comes up with glory in old Egypt
As another national leader meets demise
And old Nasser’s bile will burn
As from his grave he will return
To try to rectify his children’s Holy lies.


There are whispers of  a strike at the reactor.
There are reactionary reactions from Iran
With annulment of the bomb
The region should resume aplomb
But I have my doubts this mixture really can.


And it never rains on dear old dusty Cairo,
Here, you never feel the chill of falling snow,
You may stalk the back bazaars
For the rare blue water jars
But you should really buy protection when you go.



And they whinge that all the tourists here are dwindling
That the middle Eastern charm is all but spent,
When the red blood flows like wine
In the good old Bhyzantine
As the peace of night, with gunfire, is wrent.


But…


The dates are really sweet
And the carpetry so neat
And the music is exotic in the night,
And with the flash of Asian eyes
I can guarantee surprise
As you flee for very life…with ****** fright!


Marshalg
From the dark Bazaar
23 October 2012

© 2012 Marshal Gebbie

Cursed tumbling monument
Hating life, a death well spent
Regathering, my soul is wrent
Alone, I find my self again
Finding love, the soul devoured
Stripped of basic human power
So here I sit another hour
Making love to memories…
Of what’s no longer there

I was born in Puerto Rico
I grew up with an alchoholic abusive father
He would hurt my mom
We came to the USA when I was 5
To get away from him
My mother found a better man
When I was 7 we wrent back
Around that time
I developed an ear infection
It was very noticeable
Every one would avoid me
I had no one to talk to
At age 9 I had my first surgery
It fixed my infection
I had a scar that grew behind my ear
People thought I had a worm or something
So again I was alone
After a while I had another surgery
To remove the scar tissue
To fix my inner ear
They fixed my ear although I lost
65% of my hearing in one ear
But the scar tissue grew back
A year after I had my last surgery
To remove the tissue
I would need steroid shots in my ear
I got a got a couple of shots
But the insurance wouldn't cover more
So it eventually grew back
I started to grow my hair
So to cover my ears
My junior year of high school
I noticed the scar had shrunk
I felt better about my self
So I got a nice hair cut
A new style a new me
Except I was very shy
I guess I still am
Theres alot more to write
But I'll leave it for another day
I will say
I suffered through alot of things between all that
Much like most teenagers do
Bullying, anxiety, acne, feeling alone, thoughts of suicide, self harm, rejection, and more
But I never gave up hope
I know there are people out there
That have it worse
But it does get better
It sounds so cliché to say that
But its true

by Jimmy Haschmann


Lovely Lady Dee
I hope she’s getting along nicely
She’ll be dancing on the corner
Of the dance floor

She’s a hurricane
Leaving splinters in her wake
And it got too hard to take
Now we’re done for


She pulled my heart out bleeding
And she then commenced to eating
It up raw

Her words are ornamental
But her tenderness is gentle
As I saw

What I saw


Lovely Lady Dee
Soon you’ll be free of me
You’ll be dancing on the sidelines
At the boat house

The papers have been filed
And I hope that makes you smile
You’ll be happy …for a while
My funny free spouse


You’ll get your strapping lover
& you’ll do your best to cover up your scheme
You’ll live the dream

You’ll no longer be beholden
To this funky freaky fuzzy golden boy
Oh rapturous joy

…Go get your toy

Darling dear Diane
You have fowled up all my plans
You’ve smeared mud upon my face
And stuck the knife in

If they could know the pain
You inflicted on my brain
They would strip you of your badge
And take your license


They’d see through all your lying
And the elders would start crying
Vicious girl

And those that have your bent
Would your stockinged legs be wrent
And have a whirl

My little pearl

~

You were my world
The world has ended

You broke my trust
You can’t defend it

I’ll never know
How deep it went

The well of lies
Hope you repent

And learn to love

Spotted glints,
of lost luster,
in sealed oyster.
Still I obeyed the tape.
Navigating devoid of footholds,
simply stepped to the next petal, and strode.
Sundered squeaks, creaky hinges, floorboards, still,
there are inklings every other instant.
Uncertain of furls in the sail, wrent the rotten rudder from the stern.
Still there are tints in the stitching,
at the fringes. They billow.
The thievery was unintended.

Lovely Lady Dee
She soon will be free of me
She’ll be dancing on the corner
of the dance floor

She’s a hurricane
Leaving splinters in her wake
And it got too hard to take
Now we’re done for


She pulled my heart out bleeding
And commenced to eating
It up raw

Her words are ornamental
But her tenderness is gentle
As I saw

What I saw

Lovely Lady Dee
Soon you’ll be free of me
You’ll be dancing on the sidelines
At the boat house

The papers have been filed
And I hope that makes you smile
You’ll be happy …for a while
My funny free spouse


You’ll get your strapping lover
& you’ll do your best to cover up your scheme
You’ll live the dream

You’ll no longer be beholden
To this funky freaky fuzzy golden boy
Oh rapturous joy

Go get your toy

Darling dear Diane
You have fowled up all my plans
You’ve smeared mud upon my face
And stuck the knife in

If they could know the pain
You inflicted on my brain
They would strip you of your badge
And take your license


They’d see through all your lying
And the elders would start crying
Vicious girl

And those that have your bent
Would that your stockinged legs be wrent
And give them a whirl

My little pearl

You were my world

Two of salt
Have a heaven, have a done
Wrent with the times, a unison fault?
A picture of silence, when you have a question?

What is salt to a weary heaven?
Claim the door, or make a fruit a sovereign future
We have the sulking, the tradition of when art is the question
Can a hardier nuance, become the notion to endure?

A picture of paradise?
Promises and privilege, to greet your decisions
Of waiting and fating the stare, opus hopes is wise
So to a form in choices void, is a wakeful two, intimation?

Of a welling conscience, and the first of many kinds
Of wishes for, and taken with impressions visit
Medians or tedium, a rule of voice is to become our mind
A sake, with tomorrow on its nerves, and the rest of the future for wit

Creating the art of hours, a wishing order to worth
Is a raging held in honor or contempt?
Longing for a masters stroke, can a sharing candor, leave us with certain...
Ours of heed, and curiosity, to be a show of what life lent?

The mastery of a premonition
To work the magic of the age, a host's place and or confirmation
Come by the senses of another, to speak the truth of intuition
That has become the pout of romantic powers, a vision of a generation?

Everything reflects
Everything reflects

Life is taken seriously
But we can’t be too cynical
Politics, media institutions
At points are hysterical
But how is it we’ve become so jaded
The laws we follow only reflect our ethics
But erhics wrent fully right

What about the human makes us complete?
Emotions?
Control?
Balence?
Understanding?

Easier terms and vanacular
Exist to
Reenvigorate
The spirt that we all understand
The spirt of connection
And the mastery of unity through compromise

The exploration and advancement of fallacy has gone on for too long