Epigrams

Epigrams by Michael R. Burch If brevity is the soul of wit then brevity and levity are the whole of it. —Michael R. Burch To write an epigram, cram. If you lack wit, scram! —Michael R. Burch Conformists of a feather flock together. —Michael R. Burch If every witty thing that’s said were true, Oscar Wilde, the world would worship You! —Michael R. Burch Love has the value of gold, if it’s true; if not, of rue. —Michael R. Burch Love is either wholly folly or fully holy. —Michael R. Burch Teddy Roosevelt spoke softly and carried a big stick; Donald Trump speaks loudly and carries a big shtick. —Michael R. Burch Fierce ancient skalds summoned verse from their guts; today’s genteel poets prefer modern ruts. —Michael R. Burch Little sparks may ignite great Infernos. —Dante, translation by Michael R. Burch Raise your words, not their volume. Rain grows flowers, not thunder. —Rumi, translation by Michael R. Burch My objective is not to side with the majority, but to avoid the ranks of the insane.—Marcus Aurelius, translation by Michael R. Burch Nothing enables authority like silence.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch Love distills the eyes’ desires, love bewitches the heart with its grace.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch Religion is the opiate of the people.—Karl Marx Religion is the dopiate of the sheeple.—Michael R. Burch Once fanaticism has gangrened brains the incurable malady invariably remains. —Voltaire, translation by Michael R. Burch To live without philosophizing is to close one's eyes and never attempt to open them.—René Descartes, translation by Michael R. Burch Civility is the ability to disagree agreeably. —Michael R. Burch Marketing 101 by Michael R. Burch Building her brand, she disrobes, naked, except for her earlobes. Sex Hex by Michael R. Burch Love’s full of cute paradoxes (and highly acute poxes). Vice Grip by Michael R. Burch There’s no need to rant about Al-Qaeda and ISIS. The cruelty of “civilization” suffices: our ordinary vices. Lance-Lot by Michael R. Burch Preposterous bird! Inelegant! Absurd! Until the great & mighty heron brandishes his fearsome sword. Nun Fun Undone by Michael R. Burch Abbesses’ recesses are not for excesses! Laughter’s Cry by Michael R. Burch Because life is a mystery, we laugh and do not know the half. Because death is a mystery, we cry when one is gone, our numbering thrown awry. Not Elves, Exactly by Michael R. Burch Something there is that likes a wall, that likes it spiked and likes it tall, that likes its pikes’ sharp rows of teeth and doesn’t mind its victims’ grief (wherever they come from, far or wide) as long as they fall on the other side. Long Division by Michael R. Burch All things become one Through death’s long division And perfect precision. Meal Deal by Michael R. Burch Love is a splendid ideal, at least till it costs us a meal. Self-ish by Michael R. Burch Let’s not pretend we “understand” other elves As long as we remain mysteries to ourselves. Fleet Tweet @mikerburch 1. A tweet by any other name would be as fleet. 2. Remember, doggonit, heroic verse crowns the Shakespearean sonnet! So if you intend to write a couplet, please do it on the doublet! Stage Fright by Michael R. Burch To be or not to be? In the end Hamlet opted for naught. Redefinitions by Michael R. Burch Faith: falling into the same old claptrap. Religion: the ties that blind. Baseball: bits of hittin' with infinite spittin’. Trickle down economics: an especially pungent golden shower. NOVELTIES by Thomas Campion translation by Michael R. Burch Booksellers laud authors for novel editions as pimps praise their whores for exotic positions. Procreation is at first great sweaty recreation, then—long, long after the sex dies— the source of endless exercise. —Michael R. Burch Piecemeal by Michael R. Burch And so it begins—the ending. The narrowing veins, the soft tissues rending. Your final solution is pending. (A pale Piggy-Wiggy will discount your death as no biggie.) Liquidity by Michael R. Burch And so I have loved you, and so I have lost, accrued disappointment, ledgered its cost, debited wisdom, credited pain... My assets remaining are liquid again. Fahr an’ Ice by Michael R. Burch From what I know of death, I’ll side with those who’d like to have a say in how it goes: just make mine cool, cool rocks (twice drowned in likker), and real fahr off, instead of quicker. Mate Check by Michael R. Burch Love is an ache hearts willingly secure then break the bank to cure. Incompatibles by Michael R. Burch Reason’s treason! cries the Heart. Love’s insane, replies the Brain. Grave Oversight by Michael R. Burch The dead are always with us, and yet they are naught! Questionable Credentials by Michael R. Burch Poet? Critic? Dilettante? Do you know what’s good, or do you merely flaunt? Negligibles by Michael R. Burch Show me your most intimate items of apparel: begin with the hem of your quicksilver slip... Negotiables by Michael R. Burch Love should be more than the sum of its parts: of its potions and pills and subterranean arts. Bible Libel by Michael R. Burch If God is good, half the Bible is libel. Saving Graces by Michael R. Burch Life’s saving graces are love, pleasure, laughter (wisdom, it seems, is for the Hereafter). Multiplication, Tabled by Michael R. Burch “Be fruitful and multiply”? Great advice, for a fruitfly! But for women and men, simple Simons, say, “WHEN!” Biblical Knowledge by Michael R. Burch The wisest man the world has ever seen— had fourscore concubines and threescore queens? This gives us pause, and so we venture hence— he “knew” them, wisely, in the broader sense. Murder Most Fowl! by Michael R. Burch “Murder most foul!” cried the mouse to the owl. “Friend, I’m no sinner; you’re merely my dinner!” the wise owl replied as the tasty snack died. Brief Fling by Michael R. Burch “Epigram” means cram, then scram!