Ars Poems - Poems about Ars

...Villanelle by Michael R. Burch Is poetry mere turning of a phrase? Has prose become its height and depth and sum? What happened to the songs of yesterdays? Does prose leave all nine Muses ve......Read the rest...

...I create. And it's more than just words that rhyme, if I could I'd write all the time. I can make words fly or crawl beg her back, amuse you all. I build ships that sail the ocean or fly u......Read the rest...

... you say I am a poet I tell you I am nothing you say I craft words I tell you I build nothing you look confused imagine how I feel that with a mere smile the raise of an eyebrow you push the......Read the rest...

... I write poetry not to change the world, but to change the way I feel. Sometimes it’s just made-up fantasy, sometimes, something a little more real. I’m not a sophisticated poet you see, usin......Read the rest...

...I love You, O Most Lovable, always-- before and after death if I lose all my faculties my heart shall say it with each breath ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Inspired by: "......Read the rest...

...Better believe it, my skin is crawling Over and out, I need to decompress There's nothing going on, just feel closed in Head is empty but full to bursting Ears ......Read the rest...

...She rode her bike into Autumnal n ightmares. One moment she’s looking up at the leaves, the next she’s on the ground d ead, well she wishes she was… A fter she was captivated, she was c aptured. ......Read the rest...

...They nagged him till he'd had enough. His one remaining joy was snuff. Beyond the post that ends his race he has found a better place. This is no time to joke or laugh but to write his epitaph. ......Read the rest...

...Archibald MacLeish 'ARS POETICA' E E M P A H G S ......Read the rest...

...I swallowed an apricot seed when I was younger. Everyone told me it was hard work to grow fruit trees especially when winter marches south and tries to pry all those tiny orange dots from stubb......Read the rest...

...Poetry is a busy crosswalk downtown, when everyone moves together with elbows held a little wider than normal. Poetry is a middle-aged man, creased and folded, sprawled out on the neglected w......Read the rest...

... "Species Nova" A letter from Horace today, I read, he sends his ample split dichotomy he’s a writer with novel ambitions to shake the world of reality up a lit......Read the rest...

...Epigrams VII A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy? —Albert Einstein, poetic interpretation by Michael R. Burch The Whole of Wit by Michael R. Burch fo......Read the rest...

...I know something of betrayal- how lies can be white or hide in the silence; a kind smile that glides over violence- rifle to scope to dilated iris. The left hand that beguiles and the tight righ......Read the rest...

...S mells E ars N ose S kin E yes S cents......Read the rest...