A little lamb weeps from the staircase
Legs infected with the scent of his whip
Stained glass peeks from her ribcage
My life I have been stripped
Young bees climb up the stairs
Smelling of putrid moral decay
The bee’s eyes have fallen from their minds
Now on the lamb weeping from the staircase
“Little Lamb! Little Lamb!
Why do you cry?”
A crystalline tear
runs from her eyes
“Take my being,
And tear it to shreds.
It’s the meat butcher’s fault
The epitome of dread.”
But the bees don’t stir
Why would they
Please pity the poor lamb
Now dead in the doorway
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
And go to sleep
My little lamb
Happy Birthday Lauryn. Sending you lots of love, hugs, good vibes and an abundance of happiness and joy on your special day.
Happy birthday to you
(Celebrate your life)
By Michelle Morris
30/10/2025
On this day
You came into my life
Years ago
To light up with might
You're strong and brave
Beautiful and true
You're smart and tough
You're sweet and cute
My little lamb
My love, my heart
My pookie bear
My family's art
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, my sweet
Happy birthday, have fun
Happy birthday, have treats
Celebrate your day
Celebrate your life
Never forget you're loved
Never forget your light
No matter your age
You'll always be
My baby bear
My heart set free
© Michelle Morris, 2025
My angel I have heard on high.
I'm lost. I don't know who I am.
You seem so high up in the sky,
and I am really in a jam.
By the tinkling of heaven's chime,
I ask myself, suppress a grin,
where have you gotten to this time?
What kind of trouble are you in?
I do not know quite where I am -
maybe, to the slaughter led,
just like Mary's little lamb,
except that I will soon be dead.
I can hear your voice so shrilly.
I will find you, my little lamb.
You needn't be dramatic, silly.
If I must use GPS, I can.
Oh, my angel, I must confess,
I don't know the reason why
I got myself into this mess -
a whale's belly? I want to cry.
Oh my gosh, my little fool -
find you? I wonder if I can?
Don't worry, my precious jewel,
my angel eyes begin to scan.
When grim imagination starts to roam,
anywhere on earth's roundish sphere,
you are always here in our home,
and your angel always finds you dear.
Stumbling along the worn down pine,
Clamoring like a babe against floor and a table leg
I found the stool to shame all other stools.
Propping my bony bottom atop
Like a laggardly old lion,
Done with denunciation,
Dismal and downgraded,
While awaiting the minstrel's mentions
of a certain sort of sustenance.
"I have here for you soup
My little lamb."
Yet a lion here I sit!
With letters here I writ!
While in my bowl
She spills the same.
Despite my place.
Despite my name.
I take a spoonful
Maybe more.
My taste buds take off
Beyond flavor's shore.
I've now flown the coop
Just for poetry's soup.
Give the Ape his vice, electric device;
And watch him suckle at the Engine’s teet.
Abandoned child of Divine Person’s Thrice
Does see, no more himself, but Death in meat.
A phantom image lays in frame and clutched
By hands no more in contract with the thumb,
that lone appendage barks commands to such
who watch the face reflected turn to drum.
For with each click upon that mirrored man,
In vain, unknowing, strikes to gouge the eyes:
In darkness happ’ly seeks his own remand,
But if in sight the chains appear, not lies.
Yet think not of these things my little lamb,
You have so much to see on Instagram.
My little lamb is no more, have no fear
Having tast’d blood, it no longer suckles
Sharing a bottle of wine here or there
Sometimes, an exchange of fists and knuckles
Acceptability is the watchword
It’s a time of identification
Sharing bonds that exclude strife and discord
To attain wholesome unification
The jugular is slit, blood flows without
Oaths are taken to acquire kinship
A curse is the end result of a flout
A parting bequest from the fellowship
This is a good time for songs and dances
This is the moment to take life’s chances
Oh where oh where have the little elves gone?
Oh where oh where can they be?
They are making the toys for the good girls and boys
I hope they are making some for me
Note. my version of where has my little lamb gone
My little girl is a symbol
of myself. her innocent
pure ways soften my skelf.
If I have doubts,
my little lamb will surly sort
them out.
I need only search my
feelings for her, unconditional
love will truly be without a
doubt.
And it's done now
Nothing left to do
And it's all over
Over for you
You asked me why
So long ago,
You asked me why,
"Why does the caged bird's beautiful song disgust me so?
You asked me why, as you tucked your hair behind your face
You asked me why, as you closed your eyes, and saw with your soul
Saw with your soul
Saw with your soul
I think now I have my answer
Now I know why
But it's just another question
"Why does a caged bird make you sigh?"
But it's done now
Nothing left to do
And it's all over
Over for you
I know I started painting you into a song
I know you smiled as I led you along
But my little lamb
My pure, white, sheep turned black
With those soulful eyes
My answer is: I love you, so I want you to go and never come back
Your song will never be finished
Your answer will never be forgotten
I will always remember you
But please, oh please, never turn rotten
Crash and burn
Looking for a house to sing the blues
And wallow in my weariness.
I light a candle for you
For me
For them
For us.
Not much of a writer anymore
Maybe I never was.
It's about time to get in the car
And get what I need.
I will be allowed to walk the weariness off.
Lay low with my little lamb
Wash my sins and the world's semen off my skin
Go to sleep like a well-fed baby.
Oh, call me, call me baby and say good night.
I feel your kiss upon my head.
I see you stare me right in the eye
And tell me that it's forever
As the tear falls from my cheek
No more fretting and worrying about your love
For it's blossomed and standing firm.
I rest my head on your warm chest
With its nest of dark curls.
I love you, I love you, and I love you.
All the work
All the suffering of the shadows
We see day in and day out on the streets.
We'll make it, my love.
As long as we know
the moon and the stars are for us
until the day that we die.
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