Married in haste
You would repent at pleasure
Beaded in baste
Distance that bent off leisure
Marriage tends of delay
You got a pride of preference
That breezes out compliments of your survey
Curved out gains that nullify your deterrence
Words like world’s fabrics spun.
The fun in touching each one.
I try them on. I find my style.
Spinning the yarn by midnight oil.
I read new and old, easy and hard.
Longevity not in this age; brevity.
Unique, not copying; nevertheless
learning by forms and good poets.
What is a good poet, one asks.
A good poet may be in the making.
I look behind me and find trimmings.
I baste the turkeys and light the candle.
Am I a good poet. I don’t know,
but I do know I have something to say.
It might be heard by one or more.
It’s not for me to say; just write.
Wanna taste your sweet hot toddy
While you baste my manicotti
Your accolades are well deserved
Now ring that bell cuz dinner's served
Generation, slide like land?
Fall into the sea?
Toil, tamarind! Much is planned!
So then, file my plea!
Weather, looking bad of late.
Volcanic my hate!
Cross the world or just the strait?
Better set the date!
Thunder, roll above us all!
Floodwaters to rise!
Fate and Fortune, fill the hall!
He who seeks the prize:
Here is one last riddle!
Nothing is to last?
Play, O second fiddle?
Goblin, ghoul, and ghast.
Yellow as the sky on Mars?
Get them when they come!
Flicker, harpsichord! Thy stars!
Deadly beats the drum!
Wall atop the northern waste?
How bad does it taste?
Nighttime women, staying chaste?
Turkey, long for baste?
Calibrate! Do not be late!
Suffer from it first?
Garment white as powder! Bait!
Plans of foemen burst!
Oh my, she's cooking one of her own kind!
Has she gone completely out of her mind?
Sauteing that cut of beef is all too altruistic
even worse, her behavior is cannibalistic!
I don't know who she's trying to impress
but her folly will put her diner under duress.
After one look at Molly May cooking a steak,
whoever it is will want to make a fast break.
No amount of garlic will hide the beefy taste
Not even if with wine she should decide to baste.
It's disgraceful for a bovine to do such things
Couldn't she have fried up some chicken wings?
Maybe she has that disease that mad cows get
But her smile says Molly does not have one regret
I wonder who's gone missing from the cattle herd
I should tell the rancher. What she's doing is absurd!
Rhythm, rhyme, and resonance.
Riddle, riffle through.
Red run roundabout? Last chance.
Buried deep in blue.
Stifle, sound of silence?
Better not ask why.
Victory bequeaths violence!
Somebody must die!
Pool up, silk thread, on my spool.
Thunder, fly at once.
Help the boy to keep it cool!
Goblin, grinning, guns!
Tyrant of the ancient waste?
How does success taste?
O ye virgins, art thou chaste?
Turkey legs a-baste!
Lobbied for, O hobby? When?
Now or then again?
Gods of death, a death! Try ten.
Dragon, from thy den...
Rattlesnake, thy timber.
Cone of volcano.
Hurry, Blizzard! Cause shiver!
Bloom, thy bungalow.
Dun the skies on Martian soil.
Fate, must we embroil?
O ye serpents, thus to coil!
Water hot to boil...
Figure eight? It's gotten late.
All men hate to wait.
Cross the desert or the strait?
Limestone gone to plate!0
Waking up and smelling the aroma off fresh Brewed coffee.
Smelling Warm Artisan bread baking, and preparing to eat.
Biting into perfectly baked Pizza so crusty to taste.
Enjoying your favorite Turkey dinner in a warm baste.
Falling asleep while listening to sounding falling raindrops.
Seeing a surreal scenic view high above a mountain top.
Gifting meals to the Homeless, seeing a smile, from a good deed.
The joy of your first born graduating with Masters degree.
I am sure you can share your life's
Wonderful moments. Please share
in your comments below.
Michael Tor
Seabull baste the coup de faste
Infectudo goncerotia gonzo
Ron done wrong and was corrected for it
Foresca fiesta frescoe fiskars deshthroes kiskstar
By Start Up bark slarm no harm done to a cherry tree
Wood freeze it ASAP keep it the cooler like Texas does
Drip Diamonds in flex fuel beef it up
Life ex[pands its expectancy
Drims sound cool up pull up pull off a coup or live miserable
Defective decendant A Bravis son
Don't Davis me saveth her ass for special occasion
Dip set throuh the Tip saw
The e·lic·it replenished diceptiva
Trek or ball inflate streamed in time
Coup de FeD Framas Grace fluent in the gruesome scene of a Frogman
Resital dial it quick Sentry's kept of dialpads
Weapons weekly I used my deceptive mind zone
Introspective friers as WASAP
Wichita sounds like Wise county
Gileads crosspath
Written: November 28, 2023
______________________________________
Beneath the sweltering luminescent sky.
A thunderbolt flared over the silent firefly.
Oak-smoke tones and vanilla bean paste.
Swung idly, draped as moss from a baste.
Tintinnabulation caused by wind-borne sighs.
The gentle quiet of flora roughness is dry.
Evenfall cobalt-wrapped nascent starlight.
A crescent-shaped moon is gloaming in flight.
An avalanche of a billion Katydid wing beats
Cricket voices in a range of alto to bass feats
My gem-encrusted flame bursts and spits.
Beneath a benumbed bowl, boiling hiss.
My soul finds solace in the lichened death fall.
I was thrilled by the fire and the creepy owl call.
A soft mist falls across drooping eyelids.
amid the dancing stars and firefly skids.
In the midst of weeping with a salty aftertaste.
There is a warm embrace of light, not waste.
Some stories are cloaked in frantic haste.
This is emerging in the midst of the chaste.
Lost to history, the tales of heroes and baste.
I'd wish to walk to the beach and lambaste.
While immersed in the eons-spanning waist.
The place of plentiful smiles and fish paste.
Written: June 04, 2023
I’m the patient while these words are like my doctor/
Find the grace and style to please hoards jarred like nectar/
Wined by the taste and trial to ease an orange barred sector/
I’m defined by the baste and survival like a horrid scarred protector/
Come near the scope of my word turret I’ll tour it if God’s sure of it/
I drum to conquer pits and concur wits with thoughts I stir to spit/
Begun is a helicopter verbal arrangement within a range of mint/
Been fun to gel a proctor with verbal engagement and pin any mental derangement/
Sent sun in lieu of a stricter hurdle and a big stage dreamt
Don’t groan in lament just loan what’s lent moan what’s meant or be shown what’s sent/
Growth’s strewn to own not to make sense /
There’s a renown presence in this precedence like a full press dance to commence.
There was a young hare, with way too much hair.
His fur snagged a grate, a fact not so great.
But he couldn’t bear to shave himself bare,
so he’ll have to wait till he loses weight.
I do not know when pride ever did win.
Escape before then? His chances were thin.
The process, slow paced when firm stuck like paste;
held up by his waist, it seemed such a waste.
On what’s this stew based? Hare braised in a baste…
I feel it in my hips,
I feel it in my hands.
I hate the drying lips,
I hate the swollen glands.
The wrinkling of my skin,
The bags under my eyes.
The disappearing grin,
Comes as no surprise.
No more can I taste,
No more can I savor.
The chicken that I baste,
Has lost all its flavor.
Oh, my aching back.
Oh, my tired bones.
Oh, my knuckles crack.
Oh, my constant groans.
The times that I regret.
The times I don't recall.
One thing I need to get,
A complete overhaul.
With simplicity, he executes
His services as due and suits.
To promote cordial relationship;
An artisan cum craftsmanship.
For proper growth to taking its place...
Which character brace up cum grace.
Even on a bad day, NAH ME serves
Equal what smiling face deserves.
Now gone; off stress of what to become
Or how to become what please Mum.
Wishes unspoken; all now are nights
Hoping to see the break of lights.
Dreams he had lived, flied with his soul;
Deeply end with breaths, his sighs roll...
Laid down his sword, gun and kits on earth;
Taken away through grave time's dearth.
ASEESE went rowdy peacefully.
Whose car hit accidentally?
No one knows; driver speed off in haste,
To prevent his flesh unto baste*
Why such speed on ONE-LANE to beat time?
While others keep calm; traffic's crime!
Last last, most blame it on timing fate,
But not this, his destiny bait.
Bolaji elegantly left us
And the Akinronbis to fuss.
Rest on dear brother, though you left soon;
Crying fortitude to sing boon!
Pickelina Pickelina, cutest dill from Pasadena
she was hot, she was spicy with a crunch of very nicey
With a dash of cosher dill she was Duken's favorite thrill
was she gherkin was she Vlasic, what a bittersweet dill-emma !
Pickelina Pickelina middle name was Angelina
thought she was a daffo-dill all decked up in lace and frill
Relished moments of pure taste, only needed one to baste
Yes she was the sweetest dill, always dressed to over kill.
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