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my first
a lion inside a boy
a full moon (i thought you gave off light; you only reflected mine)
a breathless english winter, pale and icy
an explorer of collar bones and thighs and shoulder blades
my love, my life
the loveliest flower, or perhaps an entire garden
a time traveller (you showed me the world at 5.30am)
a stupid teenage boy
july 28th to november 4th
a semicolon - a story to be continued;
sunday 9th november '14 ~ i need to stop loving you for a little while so i can begin to love myself
I'm thinking of loving you,
make a note of that!

put a yellow stickum
on the fridge
already curling up,
from the good steam of
the first coffee atmospheric

I'm thinking of moving in!

clear me a drawer,
half a closet will do,
not much for possessions,
thinking I'll stay awhile,
as long as you possess me
and vice versa too!

could be seasonal,
winter marking me,
scarf dug out from somewhere,
but that just means
it is the season for
better slow loving

baby,
don't please misunderstand,
my intentions good,
just human, no regretting,
motives purely selfish,
want to put this self in you,
and see what comes of it

the stickum note,
to the floor now fallen,
in the under the fridge space,
where things go that...

no omen, no, oh man!
cause when I decided,
got past the thinking point,
arrived at the sticking point,
appears to be a long time
such a long time
to be loving you,
so many other things
curled,
neither of us noticed
that first stickum fallen

make a note of that!
 Nov 2014 Morrelle Martin
Mara
you were always beautiful
from the time you linked together
the stars into new constellations
and the moment you broke
yourself apart just to mimic them
some would’ve called it insane,
others art
the time you inhaled angel dust
in the car parking lot
and kissed the first boy
who came close to you
and had some kind of warmth
I remember seeing you in
the school restrooms swallowing
pills you said helped
all your problems
you never confided in me
I tried not to take it to heart
I felt like no one could ever
understand the lovely way
you used to fall apart
some days you disappeared
and never replied to me
other nights I would wake up
to you calling me
I would find you on the street
like a letter that never
made it it to it’s destination
a mysterious manifestation of
a stranger’s thoughts
your beauty never came
with understanding
I was always left in
the dark
Is my heart a petty thing
You are a petty crook
You steal glances at me
My heart is one of many you took

Goodnight used to have luster
When it was shared between our lips
Now you fall to her
Her seductive smile; the curve of her hips

Is my trust a petty thing
Or have I mistook
The truth we shared the lies she told
You reeled me in on a hook

Love her but remember me
One day you'll be wishing
To know where I'll be
I'm long gone on daybreak dawn
Nowhere to be seen
 Nov 2014 Morrelle Martin
Kenshō
This moment is hushed by ecstasy.
The moment's breathe is held~
and you can see the dusty particles
floating through the pillars of light.
This is the exhale,
and is also the silence.
The observation tower of consciousness..
It all just orbits-
Minute molecules gyrate
in vast space.
The waves oscillate
in numberless meditation.
This is where thought
originates from.

It is the nature
of the mountain air.
It is the emptiness
in between speech.
It is the moment of possibility
when a loved one is leaving.
It is the moment experienced
when holding a baby first breathing.
It is the stem of
importance and meaning.

I am starting to remember
where we have been
and where we are going.
.
You say I O.K.ed
LONG DISTANCE?
O.K.ed it when?
My goodness, Central
That was then!

I'm mad and disgusted
With that ***** now.
I don't pay no REVERSED
CHARGES nohow.

You say, I will pay it--
Else you'll take out my phone?
You better let
My phone alone.

I didn't ask him
To telephone me.
Roscoe knows **** well
LONG DISTANCE
Ain't free.

If I ever catch him,
Lawd, have pity!
Calling me up
From Kansas City.

Just to say he loves me!
I knowed that was so.
Why didn't he tell me some'n
I don't know?

For instance, what can
Them other girls do
That Alberta K. Johnson
Can't do--and more, too?

What's that, Central?
You say you don't care
Nothing about my
Private affair?

Well, even less about your
PHONE BILL, does I care!

Un-humm-m! . . . Yes!
You say I gave my O.K.?
Well, that O.K. you may keep--

But I sure ain't gonna pay!
 Sep 2014 Morrelle Martin
khwaja
people come and people go
it’s the truth be told
don’t count on it was something
i learned at 8 years old
which doesn’t mean apathy
it simply means empathy
never no reason to meet anyone
there’s a part of you in everyone
vice versa
they make you who you are and
they make your life into living
not a day goes by when
i don’t think about giving because
i’ve been given too much
and i don’t think that it’s enough
and yes that’s all my fault
but i swear i’m human at heart
i never wanted much
so forgive me, God
and forgive me, myself
“a good person”
on my headstone
and nothing else
 Sep 2014 Morrelle Martin
khwaja
i look up at the night sky and all i can think of is
you surround my mind and cloud my thoughts and
when i look up at the night sky all i can see is
you see stars and i see the moon but what’s seeing if you’re
not thinking about what you’re seeing because you see
i look up at the night sky and all i can think of is
your eyes shine like the moon i swear
i could get lost just wondering how naturally it glows
had it not been for the stars that surround you and
intricately map out the details of who you are
in ideas and entities so ambiguous to the world yet
perfectly meaningful to you and i
looking up at the night sky and all we can taste is
each of us passing by on parallel roads somehow crossed
so i’ll look up at the night sky and maybe all i will feel is you
if you’d not jumped, you’d /

have never found that rocks are /

more feather than bone
Haiku
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