I need you to know, in case I forget
That you are the best friend I've ever had yet
I'm not always good at remembering to call
But I will always be there through sickness and all
It's hard to imagine the times we have spent
Having great laughs and forgetting our rent
If ever you need to call for assistance
Just remember I'm here throughout your existence
No matter what time, no matter how far
I'll be there in a jiffy in my time travelling car
You fill up my mind with your sense of adventure
Though some of our stories won't get through the censure!
Just always be clear on how much you mean
After all, we've been best friends since we were sixteen
It feels muted.
Like a bubbling ache, miming the mince of my patronising murk.
The peevish petulance of my prejudice prompts an abandoned frugality so thinned to a destined demise.
Unlaced.
Untied.
Undone.
A portal so honed to the residual refine of my extinction.
The sterling silver glints off the ashen sheds of my abandoned flesh; she looks like a platter.
Each serving an amortisation to the segments of my pestilent seethe.
Every atom of her making nurtures a barbaric famine to the fester of her feud.
Each larceny a sacrificial suckle for the prosperity of her condemn.
I feel my ruins spewing in a sovereign decay of a cataclysm so heinous in its destruction.
So sinister in its devaluation.
So predatory in its death.
It feels muted; all my days blending one.
All my days blending into the countdown to my censure.
My day of reckoning.
Set aside thy lists,
calm busy thoughts
censure the process of unease
Forsake the thousand cares
and working of worries
that kill the heart
In the market of men
choose not a less perfect love
whom grace briefly affects
Let him not marry for an
alliance with authority
the warrant of wealth
or polluted lust
Let her not marry out of
a fear of long bachelorship
wicked spirit or tender virginity
for these are worthless bargains
Marriage cannot bind
the workings of thy thought
or the passion of the nuptial bed
Marry for love, breathe for love
that years of impossibly guiltless
comfort may be thy privilege
.
.
A song for this:
Today i met the boy i'm gonna marry by Darlene Love
It was half-sub-merged; as it were you
sea."
And some sort of process?
that seemed to
In-clude me.? Well wether i write-ed? or it just appeared.' People will read it have no
Fear..It will test their aptitude and
drown their senses..May be it'll flush out more whatever? And liquidate fences.? Words have that power.! I know not fully, the knot from
Whence it comes, yet it causes some tears
And anguish in a sum.' Or laughter? And
hilarity, fires emotions; causes commotions, it can describe truth fully or
Twisted, it can be.? It describes Abrahams
Actions, for ' he digged a well ' thats the text in front of me..A Bible verse thats lasted so long, a story etched in stone and songs, read so many billion times..The tounge
recites its prose and rhyme..I think
Of the fancy grammer beagles that stilt and censure..And create wots legal.? But
God don't care.' Bout sll the razz, and when they run out of words, and time there is more that He has.' He gets it writed.' Is whats the case.' And it will float
This ARK in many a space writed and worthy it proceeds along, while critics though many.' Are really
swans lost in their own songs.'
I don’t want to tell you what to do
I can only tell you what’s true
beware of new shoes at school
they can leave you black and blue
blistered, and embittered
By the end of second lecture
I was so affected
I had to slip them off
and walk around barefoot
enduring the side-eyed censure
my barefootedness triggered
to avoid further scandal
Charles brought me some mule sandals
and by third lecture, all was happily corrected.
Anyway, don’t let this happen to you
fashion can make you a fool
unless they’re sneakers, of course
I’m not sneaker averse
I ended up washing my feet
in a tiny ladies-room sink
what else could I do?
.
.
A song for this:
A Girl Called Johnny by The Waterboys
.
.
I discovered a band from the 80s - The Waterboys - I LOVE their every sound.
Childlike innocence free of filters
expressing raw emotions of joy anger boredom
society's norms soon to censure
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
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
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
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
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 !
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.
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.
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.
(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
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.
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