Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.191.165.88
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
EPIGRAMS IV

Improve yourself by others' writings, attaining freely what they purchased at the expense of experience.
—Socrates, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do stars
applaud the glowworm’s stellar mimicry?
?Michael R. Burch

I didn’t mean to love you,
but I did.
Best leave the rest unsaid,
hid-
den
and unbidden.
—Michael R. Burch

What is life?
The flash of a firefly.
The breath of the winter buffalo.
The shadow scooting across the grass that vanishes with sunset.
—Blackfoot saying, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You imagine life is good,
but have you actually understood?
—Michael R. Burch

Living with a body ain’t much fun.
Harder, still, to live without one.
Whatever happened to our day in the sun?
—Michael R. Burch

How little remains of our joys and our pains.
How little remains of our losses and gains.
How little remains of whatever remains.
—Michael R. Burch

Sometimes I feel better, it’s true,
but mostly I’m still not over you.
—Michael R. Burch

Don’t let the past defeat you.
Learn from it, but don’t dwell.
Have no regrets at “farewell.”
—Michael R. Burch

Haughty moon,
when did I ever trouble you,
insomnia’s co-conspirator!
—Michael R. Burch

Every day’s a new chance to lose weight,
but most likely,
I’ll
... procrastinate ...
—Michael R. Burch



Big Ben Boner
by Michael R. Burch

Early to bed, hurriedly to rise
makes a man stealthy,
and that’s why he’s wealthy:
what the hell is he doing behind your closed eyes?

Friend, how you’ll squirm
when you belatedly learn
that you’re the worm!



Pecking Disorder
by Michael R. Burch

Love has a pecking order,
or maybe a dis-order,
a hell we recognize
if we merely open our eyes:
the attractive win at birth,
while those of ample girth
are deemed of little worth
from Nottingham to Perth.



Tease
by Michael R. Burch

It’s what you always say, okay?
It’s what you always say:
C’mon let’s play,
roll in the hay,
It’s what you always say. Ole!

But little do you do, it’s true.
But little do you do.
A little diddle, run to piddle...
we never really screw!
That’s you!



Observance (II)
by Michael R. Burch

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
majestic to the eye.
Whoever felt as I,
     whoever
felt them doomed to die
despite their flamboyant colors?

They seem like knights of dismal countenance...
as if, windmills themselves,
they might tilt with the bloody sky.

And yet their favors gaily fly!

KEYWORDS/TAGS: epigram, epigrams
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required