Censure Poems

TONGUE EXTROADINARY

This is the hour
Words from mouths that sour
Sometimes unclean and censure
Get the picture
Anguish and aggravation
Every turn a detour
Diverse and aggravation
Uncontrollable tongue
Tasteless ears
Questionable thought
How and where
Through the hour, and second mouth event
Time after time
Word note
Negative phrase sometimes becomes a positive gesture
Not thinking and unresolving
Think before one speaks
Open up in expression having truth
Mirror reflect, what do you see?
The person themselves
What needs to change
The whole makeup
Taming the tongue
Tongue session
A presentation

Loving Tree

While wandering across a forest floor
Through twists and turns of gnarled trunks of trees
See insights more than one was looking for
Images born by bending weathered breeze

There is a lover's embrace bound in bark
Maybe the most natural human thing
It reveals itself in songs of the lark
Listen clearly and hear the trees that sing

Music as if it's a love tune of time
Lies dormant in humans hard to define
Woven through the woods in a metered rhyme
Set in harmony by someone divine

Bow now and think of life's love adventure
Muse and marvel at nature's pure power
Avoid the mistake of common censure
Hold tight your love every moment and hour


rhyme 16 lines 118 words
Colored Pencil Illustration by G. Gaul

Love is the Why

Love is the Why
By Michelle Morris 
23/11/2024

Love is the Why
The Why we live our Lives
The Why we feed our Souls
The Why we expand our Hearts

The Connection between Us 
Those Silver Threads that are always there
In Love and Light and Hope and Faith 
In Peace and Harmony and Joy

Each Soul that exists does so for a Reason 
There's a Purpose to His Plan
The Rhythm and Rhyme most evident 
As we experience every Season 

These Lives so short on this Blue Marble 
Pretty and Vibrant and Amazing 
We are presented with endless opportunities 
To make the most of our Time 

To Love without censure 
To Love without guilt 
To Love and be loved
It's our Quintessential meaning 

In this Space Time Continuum
In this present moment 
Remember that Love is the Why
And show Love to every Soul

© Michelle Morris, 2024

Jolted by Twilight

A breath of light and suddenly I'm lost.  Catapulted by 
a mesmerizing scene of audacious beauty.
I'm a ringtone of arrival on a magic carpet ride, 
run me over with a feather, then let me repose   
Life on earth unhems, I let go of the mayhem inside  
sewn to the carpet of a foggy blue moon I finally meet
                             my muse *
face to face only we lay privy to this infinitesimal light
as it shines, shines, and shines;       
 
inside a celestial palindrome
a madam of leisure *
nothing can censure me here 
blast those blessed stars !

For Life

It is not the sun
caressing winter mornings
nor love's embrace 
though this comes close

it is the dance with words I crave
their slow unfurling
below the conscious mind
of censure and regret

I conjure feelings of tenderness 
or rage and let them wrap 
the image that I hold
as fleeting this may be

no time to let it fade from sight
it must be clothed in music
made tangible as song
breath rising into praise or curses

captured as the beam of light
upon a prism's moving face
to spin its rainbows 
across a brimming heart.

back to basics

We felt we had been to lied,
since boons we sought were denied
but since our heart was not pure,
this was God’s way to censure.

To imbibe the pulse divine,
nodes within form must align
with love, feeling not thinking;
our awareness, unblinking.

To be as such, thoughts must cease,
that with no demons to please,
ego cravings die in time
and then we heavenward climb.

Transfixed in the cosmic hum,
doing nothing we become
the light we set out to seek,
by plugging energy leak.

Corpus Christi 1

Survey the hands that do the tiresome deeds,
the feet that clear the weeds on paths of sin,
the ears that listen, writing down the needs
the loving hearts that pray for souls to win.

Disciples offer worthwhile help for free
with gentle words when fellows disagree.
No censure made for lives from guilt reborn
but pure encouragement in lieu of scorn.

From baskets filled with food for hungry kids
to welcome beds that homeless people crave.
From secret cash for one who’s hit the skids
to counsel giv’n a work-a-holic slave.

Observe these ones who bear their Savior’s name.
Envision corpus Christi without shame -
His body glorifying The Lord - forgiv’n -
the church at work and Holy-Spirit-driv’n.

Different strokes

(Our differences are like the pieces of a puzzle called life)

What does humanity want from life, it’s puzzling to know
Peace signs, Daisy cutters, find Jesus in the afterglow 
Seek out seventy two virgins, priming fuses to blow?
Come together in jannah, with a godlike libido

Write painstaking poetry, devoid of human ego
Kill every known disease, have a chat with a mosquito
Build a chocolate empire, watch fatty deposits grow 
Start a protein only diet, get ripped from head to toe?

View b movie stars at night, (censure) the matinee show
Have no more hangovers, enjoy life utterly blotto
Bring back prohibition, replace it with a pink benzo?
Smoke marijuana safely, vaporise tobacco

Play chess at home with the wife, or away with a bimbo
Give a hand to starving wolves, then go howl out the window 
Let a child get carried away, not by some wild dingo?
Set the bar high enough, flambé for a life of limbo

Sweet Sorrow

It was one of those nights,
Nights where I look at my blood stained blades
And observe the art of life that I've sculpted on my body.
As i look into the mirror 
I think of how beautiful all of this is -
The pain, the scars, the dripping scarlet on my arms.
Each mark is a part of my identity:
If not for this, what defines me?
These are not scars, but the records of my past and present. 
But I'm afraid these slits on my limbs 
Only cause censure
Rather than acknowledgement
Of the art that I've created.

Man For Pleasure

I have had the pleasure
Of watching one’s treasure
And dared to then measure
What one did at leisure…

Man fails not to treasure
What fetches him pleasure:
For them goes at leisure
And them take full measure

Of eyes the cynosure,
For the camera sure,
Then doors slam for closure:
There shouldn’t be censure;
Kisses with their pressures,
Sex with all its seizures,
Morals for erasure…

Who’d save man from pleasure?

Verbose Gallery

My Poem is-
Stale flowers of barren lover
No touchstone water, no fertilizer

-Poem is empty wine bottle
No one is interested there

-Poem is withered leaves
West wind blows away far

-Poem is breathless corpse
All are busy to bury in sham tear

-Poem is glittering dew
Under sunshine it’s fading bare

-Poem is yellowish spring 
Winter cell strips off sly wear

-Poem is defilement of outraged girl
Stuff of enjoyment in cheap censure 


© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
January 23, 2023

Imbibing the Bliss Current

Shifting from thinking to feeling we rise
slowly but surely, as heart becomes pure,
negating ego prone to weigh and size,
granting our conscience the right to censure,
as life trials with courage we endure.
At first glance it seems we are missing out
on cravings of ego and hence self-doubt
but when softened becomes our attention,
there remain no fetters to bind or grout;
unending then is our meditation.

When search for God becomes our life’s passion,
the world external in time fades away.
Illusions offer no satisfaction,
so we seek out God both by night and day,
allowing bliss currents to guide our way.
In truth there is nothing we need to do,
since blessings of God on their own renew
their magnetic pulse enlivening form
as mists divine sublime elixir spew,
delighting heart in this benign bliss storm.

06-October-2022

A Long Needed Break

A long needed break


Away from the crowd,
somewhere above the cloud,
where only peace prevails,
Where I can shout aloud,
I wanna go.
 

Tranquillity within I require,
to blow off the burning fire ,
where no existence exists,
to censure, the task persist,
I wanna go.
 

A blamer always blames,
a doer always does,
a gamer plays a game,
some try to equipoise their name,
To quit,  I wanna go.
 

On top of the hills,
where quietness is only heard,
where aversion can no longer impart,
destined not to be loved,
I wanna go.
 

Require a much needed long break ,
at bay from home, all alone,
where I verbalise, to the nature,
Who gives and gives but upto a certain limit,
To learn, I wanna go.
 

To seek strength from the umbworld,
to revitalise myself from the crux,
to harmonise my heart, mind and soul ,
to live to accomplish, to play my part of role,
to reborn ,I wanna go.

Feeding Time

America tends to instill racism in the neophytes
It is fed three times a day on a plate of belligerence
Possessing an insatiable and unrestrained appetite
It’s a well-known pedigree, a hybrid of malevolence

Its ravenous sharp teeth tear innocent flesh asunder
Unable to provide I.D. except by tattoos or dentures
At feeding time, nothing satisfies the pangs of hunger
The breeders of this species also refuse to censure

It devours those who feed it and becomes their feast
Don’t get so comfortable that you forget what you fed
One thing for sure is that you can’t tame a wild beast
It’s no house pet; it consumes souls; this half-bred

Hate feed this glutton; its depravity is out of control
The redder the meat, the more it demands to consume
Emerging from its dark lair, it embarks on a daily patrol
It easily feeds off those in churches and classrooms

The Meadow Is Calling Me

The meadow is calling me with freshness galore
New leaves are popping out on the maple trees,
Small animals are stirring around once more
The scent of spring flowers floats on the breeze.

My afternoon stroll is full of wondrous adventure
Watching Mother Nature bring everything to life,
Beginning my day without criticism or censure
Walking ‘midst the pink milkweed and tall loosestrife.

The creek is running to the brim with melted snow
Washing away the autumn’s dried sticks and leaves
Where the flotsam and jetsam go, I don’t know,
But burbling sounds remind of nature’s recitatives.

I shall stop short of the woodland this afternoon
Where larger animals watch with jaundiced eye,
Not wanting to disturb the flurry of activity’s boon
Or to cause newly-nesting birds to startle and fly. 

Written April 15, 2022

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