to not feed me platitudes
When white lies plot the course
Oscillating between trust and deception
Kindling radical dialogue with smoking tongues
Escalating unilateral world supremacy
Health and human services of Ventura county
Labor dispute
Has refused key access to governor newsom
In orders legislated
Denied rights of homekey assignment
And resigned account
The total loss of life is significant
Occupation of excess in Union
Against better
Refuse bettered man
Consort of treason
Record in account held as quieted palms
Sacrifice
Order to report otherwise
Internal review
Of publicly provided access
interpretations end
As corrected
Thank you for sharing your thoughts with
President Donald J. Trump.
We have received your email. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with President Donald J. Trump.
The willingness of the American people to stay informed is essential to our enduring democracy. Please know that President Trump will never stop fighting for the citizens of our great Nation!
For additional information about President Trump’s policy initiatives or current events at the White House, please visit
"Grievance upon you,
My mere mortal kin.
You didn’t try hard enough,
Now sit with your sin"
I’ve sat here before,
And I know your game.
You feed on my sorrow
And wear it as shame.
"You can hide if you wish
Even run if you'd like,
But all’s not forgiven,
You're holding the knife"
This knife is my burden,
I know it too well,
But it cuts you as deeply
I’ll send you to hell.
"Blame becomes victimless
When cast on oneself.
Now get in here, boy,
You’ll keep on the shelf"
I’ve walked in your shadow,
I’ve stood in your cold,
Yet I still awaken
To these stories of old.
"Well, endure the dark
Let’s see if you’re bold!
For these are the truths
That you had foretold"
I know I foretold it,
I can break it as well.
These truths are your prison,
To me this is hell.
"We'll hold your heart close,
You can be free and forget"
It's not really a choice then,
I'll sit in regret.
Metaphor and simile have been with the human race for thousands of years. This is my English translation of an excerpt from an ancient Egyptian poem estimated to be around 4,000 years old:
Excerpt from "Dialogue of a Misanthrope with his Soul"
(ancient Egyptian poem circa 2000 BC)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Death lies before me:
like a sick man’s recovery,
like entering a garden after an interminable illness.
Death lies before me:
like the fragrance of myrrh,
like sitting beneath a billowing sail with a favorable wind.
Death lies before me:
like swimming in the course of a stream,
like a man’s return from the slave-galley to freedom.
Death lies before me:
like the sky when it clears,
like a man's longing to see his home after countless years of captivity.
Keywords/Tags: Egyptian, translation, dialogue, dialog, misanthrope, soul, death, illness, sick, sickness, recovery from, myrrh, sail, wind, freedom, sky, captivity, slave, slavery, soulmate
And the Lord will say to them on Judgment Day,
“I was hungry, and you defunded my food aid programs.
I was thirsty, and you rolled back drinking water protections.
I was a stranger, and you snatched me and deported me.
I was naked, and you gave tax breaks to billionaires.
I was sick, and you cut Medicaid and Medicare.
I was in prison, and you gave me no due process.”
And the self-righteous will ask him,
“Lord, when did we do those things to you?”
The Lord will answer them,
“Whatever you did
to one of the least of these,
brothers and sisters of mine,
you did to me.”
(Paraphrased excerpt from Matthew 25:31-46.)
(First published in Substack, 21 May 2025. See also my poems “Bringing Heaven to Earth” and “Quantum Acts of Kindness.”)
Good and browned, for you, a pancake round,
flipped and stacked, a joy so profound,
or perhaps, I'll share, a waffle square,
with pear for extraordinary flair.
Flair, is great for a flapjack of wheat,
square, wonderful for a Belgian treat.
Profound, indeed, is a poppy seed -
round about now, that's just what I need
sprinkled upon a lemon muffin.
I have this superpower
It's more like a curse
I can hold conversations with people in my head
But I can't do that in real life
It's why I avoid people
If there's no one there
I don't have to struggle to talk to anyone
I don't have to constantly look at my word count
And worry if I'm reaching my word limit
I know I shouldn't do that
But I'm an over thinker
I worry that I'll sound stupid
Or people will look at me weird for the topics I'm passionate about
"Did my joke fall flat?"
"Should I say something?"
"Should I know this? Why don't I know this?"
So I stay silent
In a world filled with noise, I alone stay silent
That is my fatal flaw
My own mind.
Me to You:
Cyber touches
Reaching out
Overnight
Give a shout
Message me
I'm right here
I keep my phone
Very near
You to Me:
It's too windy
Windows shake
I get nervous
You awake?
You're always up
Counting sheep
One question for you
Don't you sleep?
You say to me, “why don’t you go away?”
“I’m thousands miles away already, as you know
Where to fly from here, where to stay
There’s no direction I can take to go”
“Stay where you are”, you say, “I’ve no concern
About your present life, your past and future
I have a share of troubles on my own
And I don’t want to make my troubles mutual”
“But I just want to help…”- “You always do!
I’m sick of your advising, stupid man!
Don’t talk to me of things you never knew
I deal with serious stuff for now and then!
Think what you will, how bad I am and all
How good are you, how true you are to me
Don’t press me with emotions, its your fault!
You are unreal with your stupid fantasy…”
“Why you’re boycotting me, what have I done,
For what did I deserve such attitude?” -
“This is your favorite question, you’ve done none!
You just get on my nerves, this makes me rude!
But this is me, its useless to explain
Just take it as it comes, or go away!
Go write another poem – pretty lame
Your poems are, but you keep writing anyway”.
The moon?
A king that needn’t tout his might,
just lounges up there, cool as a cucumber,
as stars tumble like glitter from some cosmic party,
just enough shimmer to keep us wondering:
who’s really in charge - us or them?
The sun elbows its way in,
boisterous and brilliantly loud,
flinging gold across the sky like confetti,
yelling, “Let’s go! Daylight’s wasting!”
It doesn’t ask for permission to set your soul on fire,
and if you’re not burning by now, that’s on you.
The ocean doesn’t bother with formalities.
It rolls in, pushes its weight around,
tosses your worries out to sea with a lazy,
“Nah, you’re done with those.”
There’s no negotiation, just the quiet peace
of letting go when you didn’t even know you needed to.
And the forest?
Old as the first breath,
it doesn’t rush, doesn’t care for clocks.
It whispers, “Stay still long enough, and maybe
you’ll remember how to grow.”
Roots so deep they don’t care if you notice—
because they know life is in the waiting,
and you’re a part of it whether you realise or not.
In my mind, preoccupation
Occurs from time to time.
One example is me trying
To make my words rhyme.
Beside my creativity
Exists a certain place...
So, I introduce to you
My video head space.
Often, fragments of cinema
Appear inside my head.
These can be triggered at random
Or thought of instead.
Television was a mentor
When I was much younger.
Its visuals and soundscapes
Would satisfy my hunger.
Countless hours would be spent
With eyes glued to the screen...
Mesmerized and memorising
Details of a scene.
Shots, action, and dialogue...
Played in repetition.
Looking back, I laugh because
I made it my mission.
Nowadays in times of boredom,
Speech or certain actions
Of a movie sometimes surface
In parts or small fractions.
I do not re-enact them
The way I used to do...
But still, my video head space
Provides me with brain stew.
I didn't know what
the existent desire is
until I met you today
Your hope scarry me
though we exhilarating
nil bad will happen to us
"Let us bear Wisdom
The fallen maiden of light
Her feet shall not touch shadows"
"Let the light flow down
To crown the virgin of light
Guide wisdom in this chaos"
This is based on the spiritual account from the Pistis Sophia Chapter 66.
There once was a green lizard of Oz
Fought by two ferocious dogs, he was
So the tale of woe goes
He swallowed them both whole
And barking became his dialogue.
Related Poems