Best Burch Poems
Jump Start (( collaboration * SUSAN BURCH ))
by~ Poet D:
How did it come to this?
You and me down memory bliss..
Some where in between losing my self ..
I misplaced the dust remover off my shelf..
Now I will march on like a cheerful parade..
Smiling my big pearly whites, as you begin to fade...
I disguised the use, when you called me a broken down car..
Adjusting all the plugs under my hood, I reached in to far...
.
I touched and fondled every mound and tendency inside of me..
All my heart needed, was a bran new battery..
I found my own cure, reviving my broken heart disease..
Blocking the sunburn from jumping of my heart like a trapeze..
I got rocks stored in my pocket, that came with a guarantee..
Sustaining weight on my weakened knees, reassuring me warranty
***by~ SUSAN BURCH
That I will get through this, without you to drive
I have a map of the world, traced on my thighs…
You may have held the moon, but not anymore
There are millions of galaxies for me to explore …
Once I face the dark and horrible truth
That I didn’t like who I was, with you…
That’s why I shouldn’t be starving, for your attention
When all you gave me, were paltry inventions…
Instead I’ll wave bye, at my shriveled heart’s cost
And immediately stop sniffing, our love’s exhaust…
In time you’ll be nothing but a tumbleweed
A random thought I won’t even keep…
When I’m fully restored, you’ll be left in the dust
And I’ll be stronger than I ever was …
A Collaboration *Susan Burch
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~
I'll bring a tear to every eye,
and I can make a grown man cry.
To grip you is my specialty,
for once you are caught up in me,
strong feelings will intensify.
I'll make you ponder things like why
a nice guy has to cheat or lie.
I mirror sad humanity.
I'll bring a tear.
It's by man's flaws and sometimes by
the hand of fate that he must die.
To see man face mortality,
you'll empathize; I'm tragedy!
Have tissues ready. Dry your eye.
I'll bring a tear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m full of fun for everyone.
Watch me now and you’ll come undone.
Test me with a humor trial -
If you frown, you’re in denial!
I’m a funny son-of-a-gun!
I’m full of silly, zany puns.
I’ll make you forget life’s problems.
With my antics I’ll beguile;
I’m full of fun!
For I’m Drama’s beloved son.
I’m Comedy, second to none.
Full of tricks to make you smile;
Entertaining for a while.
Don’t go yet. My gags aren’t done;
I’m full of fun!
A Double Rondeau
Part one/Andrea Dietrich
Part two/ Susan Burch
For Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver's
Opposites Attract (Collab) Poetry Contest
KING ALFRED THE GREAT MODERN ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS
King Alfred the Great (c. 849-899), arguably the first great king of England, may have done more to lay the groundwork for English literacy and literature than any other English monarch. And he was quite the scholar himself, although there is no consensus that the following translations were primarily Alfred’s work. He could have done the translations himself; he could have overseen the work; or he may have commissioned the translations. No one really knows.
Alfred the Great undertook to translate “the most needful works for all men to know.” He wanted to succeed “both in war and in wisdom.” Alfred has also been credited with helping to develop a new English prose style.
The Meters of Boethius: Prelude or Verse Preface
attributed to King Alfred the Great, circa 880 AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Thus begin the tales King Alfred taught us.
The great West Saxon ruler, in his cunning,
Understood the art of all songmen,
Revealed his great skill as a poet.
Keenly he longed for Saxons to craft such songs,
To make men merry with manifold amusements,
To ward away world-weariness with pleasing poems.
Alfred loved poetry for its art and power,
Longed for it to free men from both boredom and pride.
But the arrogant man, in his self-importance,
Pays little heed to wise words. Still I must speak,
Begin my singing, weave tales well-known
For attentive mortals. Hear me, if you will.
Boethius Lay I: The Goths
from King Alfred the Great's Meters of Boethius, circa 880 AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Long ago the Goths left Scythia,
swarms of shieldmen streaming from the east,
two savage tribes tramping southward,
both growing in greatness year by year.
Under the rule of two remarkable kings,
Raedgod and Aleric, their people prospered.
Many Goths made it across the Alps,
intent on conquest, raging with war-lust.
Braying brazen battle-boasts, eager to attack
the awaiting Romans, their armor flashing,
stout shieldmen descended, waving war-banners
and slashing swords.
They intended to overrun Italy...
Keywords/Tags: Alfred the Great, Old English, Anglo-Saxon English, Boethius Translations, West Saxon, poet, poetry, art, power, pride, wise, wisdom, king, kings, leadership, war, battle, England, literature, words
She donned a pair of Tory Burch with a feigned smile.
She dressed the part, trying to show a bit of style.
But there was no sunshine on this cloudy day.
The weather suggested she had no need for shades, but she wore them anyway
She wore them to conceal the aftermath of her lover's recent wrath.
To cover all the pain and anguish that had crossed her path.
On days when the sun was splendent, she felt justified in wearing her dainty disguise.
'Cause she knew of a darkness that lingered within, and that truth could be seen through the eyes.
WALDERE: MODERN ENGLISH TRANSLATION
“Waldere” is an ancient Old English (i.e., Anglo-Saxon) poem that recounts the exploits of Walter of Aquitaine, a legendary king of the Visigoths. In the poem Waldere and Hildeguth or Hildegyth flee the court of Attila the Hun, where they were being held hostage, for Aquitaine. The poem mentions names that appear in “Deor’s Lament,” such as Theodric, Widia and Beadohild. Unfortunately, only 63 lines of “Waldere” survived, in two fragments of around 30 lines each.
Waldere Excerpt
Old English poem circa 1000 AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Thus Hildeguth spoke, heartening him:
“Surely the work of Wayland shall never fail,
the savage sword Mimming, when held by a man
who bolsters its blade. Felled, the fiercest fighters
lie broken, bleeding profusely from terrible wounds,
lords and aethelings laid low on the battlefield,
heirs of grim war-graves.
Son of Aelfhere, right hand of Attila,
best and boldest of his warlords,
don’t let your heart faint, nor your courage wilt.
The time has come to summon all your daring,
to gain glory or give up living for a long doom.”
…
Keywords/Tags: Waldere, translation, Hildeguth, Wayland, sword Mimming, man, men, fighters, war, battle, battlefield, grave, graves, Attila the Hun, heart, courage, time, glory, life, living, death, doom
These are translations of Voltaire, one of the world's most prolific, best and most influential writers. Voltaire, born François-Marie Arouet (1694-1778), was an amazingly prolific writer who produced works in nearly every literary genre, including poems, plays, novels and novellas, satires, parodies, essays, histories, Bible criticism, and even early science fiction!
TRANSLATIONS OF VOLTAIRE EPIGRAMS AND QUOTES
Once fanaticism has gangrened brains
the incurable malady invariably remains.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Love is a canvas created by nature
and completed by imagination.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
If God did not create us, it was necessary for us to create him.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
My only prayer to God was, “Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.” And he granted it.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
God is a jester performing for an audience too frightened to laugh.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Doubt is an undesirable condition, but preferable to ludicrous certainty.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Faith is believing what reason cannot countenance.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
?Life is a shipwreck, yet we must sing in the lifeboats.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Every man is a product of his age and few are able to rise above its misconceptions.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Judge a man by his doubts rather than his certainties.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The secret of being a bore is to reveal everything.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Common sense is uncommon.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Once fanaticism has gangrened brains the malady is usually incurable.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: Voltaire, France, French, English translation, you, Phyllis, youth, young, crush, love, lost love, kiss, time, write, writing, words, poems, poetry
These are nature poems about unusual plants like the moonflower and agave.
Moonflower
by Michael R. Burch
after Robert Hayden
Marveling,
we at last beheld the achieved flower—
both awed and repelled by its alienness,
its moonlit petals,
its cloying fragrance,
its transcendence,
its shimmering and wavering intimations of mortality ...
To Flower
by Michael R. Burch
We are not long for this earth, I know—
you and I, all our petals incurled,
till a night of pale brilliance, moonflower aglow.
Is there love anywhere in this strange world?
The agave knows best when it’s time to die
and rages to life with such rapturous leaves
her name means Illustrious. Each hour more high,
she claws toward heaven, for, if she believes
in love at all, she has left it behind
to flower, to flower. When darkness falls
she wilts down to meet it, where something crawls:
beheaded, bewildered. And since love is blind,
she never adored it, nor watches it go.
Can we be as she is, moonflower aglow?
When Pentheus [“grief’] went into the mountains in the garb of the bacchae, his mother [Agave] and the other maenads, possessed by Dionysus, tore him apart (Euripides, Bacchae; Apollodorus 3.5.2; Ovid, Metamorphoses 3.511-733; Hyginus, Fabulae 184). The agave dies as soon as it blooms; the moonflower, or night-blooming cereus, is a desert plant of similar fate.
Our English Rose
by Michael R. Burch
for my mother Christine Ena Burch
The rose is?
the ornament of the earth,
the glory of nature,
the archetype of the flowers,
the blush of the meadows,
a lightning flash of beauty.
This is my translation/interpretation of a Sappho epigram.
Keywords/Tags: nature, moonflower, agave, flower, petals, rose, earth, beauty, beautiful, night, mortality
Original Haiku by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: haiku, original, sky, breath, existence, night, dark, darkness, leaf, autumn, fall, leaves, universe, beauty, loneliness, night, stars, moon
should the sky fall,
let my last breath
praise Your existence
—Michael R. Burch
It ever was night,
yet in the darkness I found you,
shining, bright.
—Michael R. Burch
a last leaf
clinging to life
declines to fall...
—Michael R. Burch
the Universe,
dazzled by her beauty,
swoons.
—Michael R. Burch
Loneliness engulfs me
like an immense night
void of stars.
—Michael R. Burch
Crow
perched quizzically on scarecrow:
natural comedian!
—Michael R. Burch
Autumn leaves
swirling:
dreams aloft & imperiled
—Michael R. Burch
struggle to fit
into cramped too-small shoes:
tiny haiku
—Michael R. Burch
your easy smile
brightens the day
natural as wildflowers
—Michael R. Burch
a single silver leaf
on the old oak tree:
autumn moon
—Michael R. Burch
The Beloved City
by Munir Momin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Don’t bemoan the silence
because you’re still a newbie here:
your bright colors remain foreign to the surrounding trees.
No one will converse with you, yet.
But once the city’s poison
seeps into your veins, then mingles with your blood,
relationships will blossom;
only then will the city converse with you.
***
Day by day,
Time slips through my fingers
like elusive millet grains.
But were you a bird,
you'd be my most welcome guest!
—Munir Momin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Only for an evening
let my heart
soar momentarily
with the starlings of silence
fleeing the seasons and the solitudes of your eyes.
—Munir Momin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
They sail ahead at the same speed
yet the moon reaches the beach
long before the boats.
—Munir Momin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
***
Night and Day
by Munir Momin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Night after night
the world screams
invective against
my solitude,
then sneaks out
the cracked backdoor window
but doesn’t make it far
beyond the city’s confines;
then in the morning,
acting as if nothing untoward happened,
it greets me,
having forgotten all about its rants
and my loneliness,
then accompanies me
like a friend
through the front door.