Best Cochlea Poems

I never told anyone how my ears reverberate in a silent room.
The whirring drone ever present, a conquistador of my private spaces.
This is my cohabitation with an industrial generator.
But I’ve graduated from the torment. 
My attitude detours trance-like into pockets of thought.
It is either that...

Continue reading...

A cocooned cacophony of crickets serenades  overgrown fields,  
drowning out the creaking of rusted cars long since abandoned.  
Maroon and sable tents blot the dilapidated ground—  
bloated and weathered,  
strips of fabric flapping in the harsh elements.  
Legends of...

Continue reading...

A cocooned cacophony of crickets serenades overgrown fields,  
drowning out the creaking of rusted cars long since abandoned.  
Maroon and sable tents blot the dilapidated ground—  
bloated and weathered,  
strips of fabric flapping in the harsh elements.  
Legends of wraiths...

Continue reading...

A little alliteration by a long shot speaks so loud.
Metaphors muddle my mind
And silly similes stymie the sentence.
A terrible trope takes too much of my time
g Tiberius is my tag and title
My nom de plume is a personal platitude personified
Better *****es badger me with their...

Continue reading...

I L L U M I N A T I O N


When darkness eats the space

I  in the nucleus 

of  rippling  cochlea

braces  head-tight the world.


Glow clears, God called my name...


___________________________________________
***#1 connection with the Supreme source
--Contest Name:	MYSTIQUE 
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
~~3rd Place~~

O.E. Guillermo
2:30...

Continue reading...

Form: Alliteration
A little alliteration by a long shot speaks so loud.
Metaphors muddle my mind
And silly similes stymie the sentence.
A terrible trope takes too much of my time
g Tiberius is my tag and title
My nom de plume is a personal platitude personified
Better *****es badger me with...

Continue reading...

Beautiful music warms my cochlea
Awesome footwork amuse my cornea
The spectacle dazzle my cerebrum
Oh splendid scenery,feed my Organs...

Continue reading...

Poems about Things that Break I
 
These are poems about things that break and/or shatter: a bubble, glass, a mirror, a twig or tree limb, a thunderstorm, cities and towers in times of war, old habits, our hearts, and sometimes Love itself.
 
 
 
Shattered
by...

Continue reading...

I know not the paint of your face nor the slang of your name
I know not the acoustic of your voice nor the creed before your knees 
I know not the double of helixes taut beneath your skin
Nor do I know the furnace that keeps...

Continue reading...

A Vain Word
by Michael R. Burch

Oleanders at dawn preen extravagant whorls
as I read in leaves’ Sanskrit brief moments remaining
till sunset implodes, till the moon strands grey pearls
under moss-stubbled oaks, full of whispers, complaining
to the darkening autumn, how swiftly life goes—
as I fled before love ......

Continue reading...

Regret
by Michael R. Burch

Regret,
a bitter
ache to bear . . .

once starlight
languished
in your hair . . .

a shining there
as brief
as rare.

Regret . . .
a pain
I chose to bear . . .

unleash
the torrent
of your hair . . .

and show me
once again?
how rare.

Published by The HyperTexts and The...

Continue reading...

Sonnets LII-LX

The Endeavors of Lips
by Michael R. Burch

How sweet the endeavors of lips: to speak
of the heights of those pleasures which left us weak
in love’s strangely lit beds, where the cold springs creak:
for there is no illusion like love...

Grown childlike, we wish for those storied...

Continue reading...

Poems about Children V

Pan
by Michael R. Burch

Among the shadows of the groaning elms,
amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves

Once there were paths that led to coracles
that clung to piers like loosening barnacles

where we cannot return, because we lost
the pebbles and the playthings, and the moss

hangs...

Continue reading...

Uther’s Last Battle
by Michael R. Burch

When Uther, the High King,
unable to walk, borne upon a litter
went to fight Colgrim, the Saxon King,
his legs were weak, and his visage bitter.
“Where is Merlyn, the sage?
For today I truly feel my age.”

All day long the battle raged
and the...

Continue reading...

When I'm with you,
                        Time stops.
The paradox:  Time goes,
Like the thin web a dream becomes upon waking, barely discernable and then...

Continue reading...