Best Chars Poems

The River

The river sings its sweet lament
in ancient voice softly lowing,
vibrant melodies subtly meant
to plumb the depths of our knowing.

Around each bend it curves, flowing
onward toward its fated reunion
with unkempt sea, wild and blowing;
embracing briney communion.

Its serpentine course scars the land
in undulant brown profusion;
shimmering gold...

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Blue velvet caged
Behind rusty bars.
Soul within chars.
Fervent flames raged.

Mighty door creaked
Black-veiled phantoms
Chanting the anthems
Thus the dusts freaked.

All the phantoms read
The holy pages.
The pious sages
For repentance plead.

Life’s last drops
Time’s burning tears.
Soaked deep in fears,
Crushed by crops,

The soul crumples.
Satan’s oracle
Tempting manacle
On heart tramples.

Towers of flesh
Drag my weary...

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O tender soul, o innocence defiled,
What cruelties did your youth upend?
Tormented by she who should cherish her child,
Instead her addictions made her your fiend.

Those eyes that should have beamed with a mother's love,
Grew cold and contemptuous in the throes of her vice.
What horrors played out...

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love is awake
it does not rest
but a broken heart needs to sleep when
distortion of truth chars upon the arteries
of love that nourished the heart.

trust must not rest
its vital to sustain love,
when love is not awake
a heart will find comfort and sleeps....

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At some point you are going to need to impress more than a few friends with some burnt toast. I used to have an old, heavy-gauge chrome-plated toaster with a dial to adjust doneness from 1-5. I took a Sharpie and scribed a 6 at...

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Watching wan moonlight
illuminate tree limbs,
my heart also brims,
overflowing with autumn.
—Ono no Komachi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As I slept in isolation
my desired beloved appeared to me; 
therefore, dreams have become my reality
and consolation. 
—Ono no Komachi, translation by Michael R. Burch

Submit to you—
is that...

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I used to say I love you, many years ago –
My passion-cries were wings of flight!
Like burning arrows pierced upon a snowy night,
I loosed my songs to let you know.

So long ago! So many years will change a man.
And now the songs of love lie...

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Front door brings in nippy chill, 
You step onto the frosty path, 
No pleasant air for you to initial, 
Only a gut fight with the waft.

But friends are warm and bright, 
Neighbours smile by their cars, 
Old friends get in touch, write, 
The hairdresser chats...

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Beyond the dunes, I travel far, in this morass 
Dust clouds assault these eyes' lodestar, in this morass 

Herein, this mouth thirsts for your arms like waterfall
Denied by silken touch, which chars in this morass.

I find myself tracing your face on night’s misbah
When silence rips...

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A warm heart, yet…

It sizzles with anxiety

And melts away emotions

That still linger on.


A sincere heart, yet…

 It chokes with evasiveness

And chars  every feeling

That flickers with hope


A bleeding heart, yet…

One sleeve is left exposed

And burns with desire

To escape all flames


A singed heart, yet…

It smokes it’s...

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I wander down a cobbled street, 
sodden from rain, heckled by whispers
revealing secrets on this blustery night.
They bewilder me in a surge of confusion
far beyond the juncture of cursory fright.

If this is collusion to drive me insane,
I beg deliverence from their echoing disdain;
Are these callous...

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Slow- fire gleams upon a nearby field
as I  gather herbs from  twig-like strips
adding  creamy broth to stir the brew
under a  moonlight of summer’s heat … 
The mellow breeze warms  my  thoughts
where hands pour lemon mint, in a campfire
kindling ...

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Change your name…

Change it for one that with its scorching stigmatic fervor will evoke blood from 
those who hear it. That the word detonates at the level of voices and that the 
ferocity of its enunciation’s chars your tongue at the moment that it escapes...

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As I slept in isolation
my desired beloved appeared to me; 
therefore, dreams have become my reality
and consolation. 
—Ono no Komachi, translation by Michael R. Burch

Submit to you—is that what you advise? 
The way the ripples do
whenever ill winds arise? 
—Ono no Komachi, translation by Michael...

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Two months past solstice
Subtropical climate sears
Just open the door

Step into oven
Midday sun chars skin and lawns
Sweat flows so freely

Water use rises
AC gives welcome relief
Scalding sand on beach

Take frequent showers
Florida lifestyle envied
Northerners don’t know

Blazing heat last months
Visits to the Sunshine State
Best planned in winter


*Entry for Francine’s...

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