Defenses

These are poems about war and defenses. Defenses by Michael R. Burch Beyond the silhouettes of trees stark, naked and defenseless there stand long rows of sentinels: these pert white picket fences. Now whom they guard and how they guard, the good Lord only knows; but savages would have to laugh observing the tidy rows. Piercing the Shell by Michael R. Burch If we strip away all the accouterments of war, perhaps we’ll discover what the heart is for. Teach me to love: to fly beyond sterile Mars to percolating Venus. —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 Privilege by Michael R. Burch This poem is dedicated to Harvey Stanbrough, an ex-marine who has written eloquently about the horror and absurdity of war in Lessons for a Barren Population. No, I will never know what you saw or what you felt, thrust into the maw of Eternity, watching the mortars nightly greedily making their rounds, hearing the soft damp hiss of men’s souls like helium escaping their collapsing torn bodies, or lying alone, feeling the great roar of your own heart. But I know: there is a bitter knowledge of death I have not achieved, and in thankful ignorance, and especially for my son and for all who benefit so easily at so unthinkable a price, I thank you. Mending by Michael R. Burch for the survivors of 9-11 I am besieged with kindnesses; sometimes I laugh, delighted for a moment, then resume the more seemly occupation of my craft. I do not taste the candies... The perfume of roses is uplifted in a draft that vanishes into the ceiling’s fans which spin like old propellers till the room is full of ghostly bits of yarn... My task is not to knit, but not to end too soon. Shock and Awe by Michael R. Burch With megatons of “wonder,” we make our godhead clear: Death. Destruction. Fear. The world’s heart ripped asunder, its dying pulse we hear: Death. Destruction. Fear. Strange Trinity! We ponder this God we hold so dear: Death. Destruction. Fear. The vulture and the condor proclaim: The feast is near!— Death. Destruction. Fear. Soon He will plow us under; the Anti-Christ is here: Death. Destruction. Fear. We love to hear Him thunder! With Shock and Awe, appear!— Death. Destruction. Fear. For God can never blunder; we know He holds US dear: Death. Destruction. Fear.