Write Aubade Poems

The morning shown as a mono gray
but the forecast called for a clearing sky
which gave me time to read and pray
The morning shown as a...

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Virtue

I wish
I could write
A love song
From the heart
About a mountain stream,
Were cynicism
Dare not enter
Not intrude
As sarcasm
Is banned
Sorry to say
Cannot have lived
That long
I know when hearts
Cries
For...

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I Love You
I love thee dearly and these are the ways
Whispered sweet nothings that light up my days
Magical moments the two of us share 
Tenderly...

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A new day perhaps, of immeasurable tin, sound of din
A hurricane noise, a thrall of riotous cuts, although thin
The blood-curdle choke of rage from before
Now...

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Every Day You Play
by Pablo Neruda
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Every day you play with Infinity’s rays.
Exquisite visitor, you arrive with the flowers and the...

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Each poem better than the last
I write them to improve.
But looking back should add to fact
that nothing's new to prove.

When all I write is soon...

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What if I Stopped?

Writing this poetry?
It would not matter,nonetheless!
Or would it?
What if I block all comments,
That might be good!

I measure my writing like a fool,
By...

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LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HER
She lit my soul on fire for her from the very start.
She's the one I feel at peace with when...

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Here she come in a cloud of rage.

                 ...

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Globalism 

The winter after war was not jubilant
the snow was slushy like the beginning of spring.
A poor street, houses had not been painted 
not much...

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Hoping everyday there will be a vicissitude in your thinking.
Irritation and repose.
Waiting.
For a text, a call, reticence.
White space on paper.
Empty.
I drank your wine.
I reveled in...

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When a Bordello was fun 

I sit down with the best intention to write about flowers
and love which made me think the whore houses tend...

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