trying to keep sinking relations afloat
is like patching an old boat with stones
for certain It'll go under
sharks will move in to plunder
then crap out your miserable bones
Their love for life is like a raging storm of thunder
Perfection always eludes; they won't go under
Every new day is a chance for joy and wonder
For the people who never gave up on life. I'm glad you're still here, even if I do not know you.
____________________
Most of April I spent, my mind totally switched off from poems, reading nor writing them, and wondered what if poems are penned no more. Pondering over, this poem was born.
________________________________________
What possibly might well happen
If poems are no longer penned?
Would all water bodies go dry?
Rivers flow reverse to mountains
And all Earth’s greenery get gray?
Would oceans go under Earth’s belly?
No, nothing that sort would happen.
Yet, who’d the rain fairies exhort
To come and play strange water sports?
How else heavenly damsels descend down
To bathe free from their gossamer garments?
To venture all over the sky,
Who’d imagine hills would wear wings of wind?
How’d blades of grass shed tears of dew?
No, everything may move as ere
And still seem less than fair.
If poets no more poems were to pen,
What at its worse might well happen?
Things more serious than imagine we can…
Earth, getting dull with shades of gray
Might well seem more so from that day.
___________________________
Musings | 04.05.2026 | ocean/sea, poems, rain, river, free verse
I made two out of order signs
Fastened them together
Hung over my shoulders one day
Sunny was the weather
I took a book I had started to read
And sat down in the shade
It was a day for rest for me
I wouldn't use a spade
My kitchen had closed on the door
Cooking was not happening
This was a day of vacation
Don't call it slackening
Women of America use some sense
Take a day for yourself
Rest, read, take a small nap
Put your work on a shelf
Add a day now and then to rest
It will do a wonder
For your mind, body and spirit
So you won't go under
Fighting fire with gasoline
Splitting towns to rubble bits
Heroes keep doing their thing
In full knowledge it’s not worth it
Living only by submission
For the money they can’t spend
Dying by warlords decisions
This I fail to understand
Hostages of mortal hate
They’ve no peace in their souls
Bet they can’t negotiate
Yet they do perform their roles
Whom do they deceive, I wonder
Why this utter shame we see?
Does humanity go under
Back to tribal pedigree?
Love, no one will carve our names
No pillar stands for the unwise
We’re not joining the insane
Nation-minded, country-sized
It’s absurd to fight and fuss
No excuse sounds good enough
Cursed or hallowed, they’re not us
Either we’re not them, my love.
When he's not here, whenever I feel sad,
I go under this comforter, then I feel glad.
How warm it is reminds me of his nature
As well as all ways he shows he is mature.
I lay beneath comforter when he is not here.
I solemnly pray he never shall disappear.
How soft it is reminds me of how he's tender
As well as how his love is of such splendor.
I rest underneath this blanket, missing him.
I miss all times we make love on a whim.
I know he'll come again, but for now I rest,
As I become aware my waiting is all a test.
I sleep with this comforter he bought for me,
Dreaming dreams in which he and I are free.
I adore him completely, my face as rosey
As pink blanket, whenever he comes to me.
Where stray sheep lie
Hazy pastures in the misty morning grey,
With dreams like dew drops on each blade.
We graze upon the meadow on the dawning day, in plains we once forbade.
We shepard no one unto their slumber,
For we ourselves are lost.
And when us strays must go under, our souls must weigh the cost.
Good little lambs are counted against the stars, but not the ones who've gone astray.
We go where the stray sheep heal their scars, the hazy pasture in the misty morning grey.
God’s creation dispenses comforts.
Many of man’s creation deliver frets.
AI, the weapon of the wisest,
Adds no more cognizance to the existing.
Don’t assume it a dumb servant.
It will take us under its authority.
There will be a pandemonium as
The reality would go under the covers of falsity.
One day, the whole world will seek a philosopher's help
Ethics, values, and logics of life will be the new lessons.
Creation of technology is all right.
Let it not be a cremation of human threads.
Place: 1st
It's hard-
when everyone assumes
that you're okay.
When you're not-
you never have been.
You say what they want to hear,
even when it's a lie.
Because you're afraid
of what they might think.
Whatever you think that might be-
you're wrong.
Trust me.
I've been there.
And if they do think like that,
know this:
they don't deserve someone
as good as
you.
Every time you repeat that phrase-
I'm okay,
you sink deeper
and deeper
and deeper,
until you're stuck
in the quicksand.
Eventually,
your head will go under.
And all hope seems to have disappeared.
forever.
But then comes a hand,
pulling you out of your quicksand.
Struggling,
but never
letting go.
Then there are more.
So many hands.
They crowd around you, searching for a grip,
and lift
until
you begin
to rise.
Up.
There is not always rain
Along with the thunder
There is not always bite
Along with the bark
There is not always oxygen
When we go under
Not always a devil
Along with the dark
But we can always count on,
Along with the sorrow,
Laughter and joy joining this life
We can always count on,
Along with the blood shed,
Somewhere, a sharp wicked knife
We can always count on
These weapons of warfare
Harmless until held in our hands
We can always count on
Having our fair share
The wicked intent of mortal man
There will be a rainbow
Along with the thunder
Along with the lightning
The still waters of night
There will be such beauty
After all blows asunder
Along with the blindness
A great, glorious sight
Not that Jack and Jill
Jack took Jill up the hill
On the pretext of fetching water
But the need for some weed
Was a far more pressing order.
The hill was all green with flowers asunder
When they lit the pipe so they could go under
Jack inhaled deeply and spied Jilly with a posy
She took the pipe and took it in till her cheeky were rosy
They lay a while, and closed their eyes, the birds all chirps and singing
The clouds floated and bobbed their beards as weed and ecstasy collided
The sky was bluer, the grass greener, the air fresher as senses imploded.
Another puff, eyes closed, and images dance in the gentle breeze
As clouds part, God appears, staff in hand, smiling with ease.
All sounds are dappled, all objects move slowly, deliberately
If your'e going to preach it brother.? Hit-em with the Gospel
For its like no other; Spell' Speak of mercy..And the flames of hell' and ring out the message like a ten ton bell.' Tell the truth
'The world is round' like Isaiah shouted.' He really went to
Town.' Also the village for that to matters.' No doubt giving
The matrons a feast of natters.' Yes tell of the King! With a
Sceptre of iron.' Ruler of Nations the one so much better,' by
Leaps and leauges.' Yet a donkey His steed! the pharisees bane.' He allowed them to keep their greeds.' Yes preach of
Life and tbe riches of God.' To all those destined to go under
The sod.' Some clerics may repent.?To turn away? from the
Gasp-ell of death they gasp out today.' Nothing is new as
Solomon put.' Just whitewashed tombs on top thats it.' The
Bones of this matter.' Wont be raised at all.' Who have gasp-ed
Out the message of slavery and thrall.' Its hotter than this
Poem.'The place they must go.' If you don't want to join them 'just let Jesus know.'
The division
Here in this landscape of bushes and crippled trees
the grotesque peace of daylight ghosts
grey boughs stretching upward appeal to a soundless god.
“Give us today a new life.” There is only one deity
the almighty one, go under the name of Silvanus.
Those who do not understand this are doomed to
a life of empty pursuit of pleasures.
Crowded nightclubs and casinos, people trying not to be alone
in the night and face the truth
we are mortals and infrequently remembered as a photo
a black frame, seeing you, seeing through
you and into an ever-expanding void.
Never let age deter your Life's Purpose and blessings. You're part of the Universe's greatness. Blessings, Love and Light.
Part of the Universe's greatness
By Michelle Morris
05/09/2024
As I edge ever closer to the time
That I was born
I get to reflect back upon
This mantle that I have worn
Over fifty years
I've lived and learned
Loved and lost
Grown and burned
It can seem strange
To the inexperienced eye
Who miss the glint
Of mischief and smiles
But within each elder
Is a young, wild sprite
Exuberant and playful
Ever hopeful, never doubting
It's important to remember
To make age a mere number
For we are all eternal
And our Souls never go under
For we remain starlight
Stardust and miracles
Part of the Universe's greatness
A sight to behold
We fly up, up and away
Never giving up on our True path
Focussing on creative delights
Knowing we share One Heart
© Michelle Morris, 2024
A moonchild under moon shadow,
hiding in the dark side of the
moon or darkness of the night, why?
Come out, come out and go under
the moonlight and see the bright
stars twinkling, like specks of gold
all over the clear night sky, pure
black like a soft warm blanket to
comfort you and make you feel
safe … hush now … shhhh …
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