Advice to Young Poets

Advice to Young Poets by Nicanor Parra Sandoval loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Youngsters, write however you will in your preferred style. Too much blood flowed under the bridge for me to believe there’s just one acceptable path. In poetry everything’s permitted. Byron was not a shy one, as peacocks run. —Michael R. Burch When I visited Lord Byron's residence at Newstead Abbey, there were peacocks running around the grounds, which I thought appropriate. A Surfeit of Light There was always a surfeit of light in your presence. You stood distinctly apart, not of the humdrum world— a chariot of gold in a procession of plywood. We were all pioneers of the modern expedient race, raising the ante: Home Depot to Lowe’s. Yours was an antique grace—Thrace’s or Mesopotamia’s. We were never quite sure of your silver allure, of your trillium-and-platinum diadem, of your utter lack of flatware-like utility. You told us that night—your wound would not scar. The black moment passed, then you were no more. The darker the sky, how much brighter the Star! The day of your funeral, I ripped out the crown mold. You were this fool’s gold. Keywords/Tags: death, death of a friend, funeral, eulogy, heartbreak, light, star, presence, world Mayflies by Michael R. Burch These standing stones have stood the test of time but who are you and what are you and why? As brief as mist, as transient, as pale... Inconsequential mayfly! Perhaps the thought of love inspired hope? Do midges love? Do stars bend down to see? Do gods commend the kindnesses of ants to aphids? Does one eel impress the sea? Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do the stars regret the glowworm’s stellar mimicry the day it dies? Does not the world grind on as if it’s no great matter, not to be? Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose. And yet somehow you’re everything to me. u-turn: another way to look at religion by Michael R. Burch ... u were borne orphaned from Ecstasy into this lower realm: just one of the inching worms dreaming of Beatification; u would love to make a u-turn back to Divinity, but having misplaced ur chrysalis, u can only chant magical phrases, like Circe luring ulysses back into the pigsty ... Keywords/Tags: poets, poetry, poems, write, writing, light, gold, grace, world, night, star Less Heroic Couplets: Unsmiley Simile, or, Down Time by Michael R. Burch Quora is down! I frown: how long can the universe suffice without its ad-vice?