Best Paneled Poems

Invitations to the Gala
issued by a grave impala
were highly sought out missives 
by the bold and the submissive 
Those omitted uttered curses
shook angry fists or heavy purses
Had they but known that
the price of  admission
was not by stealth nor definition;
would it have improved their disposition?
Oh...

Continue reading...

As the second hand ticks away my breaths
a half-clad moon catches my eye.
Was a time when I might've seen
the ghost of half-eaten melon,
but I'm older now, my thoughts less spry.
Dark fear's hobgoblins
were long since relegated
to memory's chuckle drawer;
open windows to warm nights ease my mind.

I...

Continue reading...

I was a whimsical, interior designer, bringing colors and joy into living spaces,
Subtly changing neighborhoods and lives, like vibrant arcs the rainbow traces.

People were as dissimilar as their houses, the both of them rather fascinating,
Like flashing disparities of dazzling stars, when a pale moon is...

Continue reading...

And it will be served proudly

Shore to shore, long highways roam undignified
through heartlands of wounded fields, crying
overgrown long of factories closed,
unemployment, crime,  
homes foreclosed on, lives given to dust,
coughed in past dreams now dissipating
along barren horizons, where prosperity 
once flourished and visions found a...

Continue reading...

“I heard a note once,.”  Charles said with conviction and bass from his gut.
Every night with chuck we reached this point ,
Existential storytelling, usually after four drinks or eight drinks.
Talking about government and it’s corrupt nature, the idiocy and beauty of religion,
And even the...

Continue reading...

Esther Shugg

1833 – 1908

A woman’s heart forever resides
In the glowing hearth of her humble home.
Come Earth dwellers. Come Earth survivors.
I invite you to my warm and cozy house.
There, on the southwest corner
Of Mar Vista and Pickering Streets.
Venture, if you will, to the little white house
With...

Continue reading...

Beneath the evening lamplight, I sit on nature's floor
Entreating those emerging from their crystal paneled doors,
To ask a single farthing, or penny they might give,
And grant this humble beggar, a means where I might live.
And as they come and go each night they disdain to...

Continue reading...

Sun-faded cardboard photographs
of 1970’s hairstyles
were tacked to 
the brown paneled walls.
His counter was cluttered with 
the shiny tools of his trade,
a chipped glass bowl
laden with lollypops,
and a jar of combs 
in blue liquid.
National Geographic,
Sports Illustrated, 
and Life
were spread out 
like Chinese fans
on the coffee table.
On...

Continue reading...

This is my modern English translation of a French poem by Voltaire, one of my all-time favorite writers. The poem is followed by two translations of epigrams by Voltaire.

Les Vous et Les Tu (“You, then and now”)
by Voltaire
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Phyllis, whatever became...

Continue reading...

My, My, My

My life is a crack in the concrete
My faith is an old newspaper cutout
My soul is the drifting clouds
My heart is a crystal sphinx
My core is as solid as a cup of pudding
My voice is a hundred tapping feet

So many words circle around...

Continue reading...

Small room with one door
Pale green carpet lines the floor
Two windows, shades and curtains
Pink roses scattered uncertain
Paneled walls remember
Our Moms love this December
 
Figurines rest on dresser tops
Some gifts, others from local shops
Flower petals that hold no scent
Potpourri in baskets, its fragrance spent
Jewelry in boxes...

Continue reading...

The morning sun stretches across the sky, 
charging a palette of blues, greens and chalky coastal whites.  
The smell of salt is carried by the early morning humid wind, 
and seagulls search for their first delights.

The sparseness of our beach terrain rises up 
into...

Continue reading...

Someone playing a concrete violin
with a jackhammer
on a midnight sidewalk,
street lights gawk,
flickering fascination,
tuning keys locked,
rosin swipes declined

chalks marks hold hop scotch trinkets
tossed into the numbered squares,
pawned now for a glass of chardonnay
and a plate of cheese

Paneled walls ache
of yesterday’s smoke rings,
scentless air fresheners,
hanging Christmas trees
presumed...

Continue reading...

Spartan are the white walls were once hung draperies
And things papered, paneled, plastered...
Yet, 'tis so no more. 
Now all is white and wan and sickly, 
And the ghostly shadows of the accoutrements and impedimenta that once 
Gaily festooned this quartet of walls, they are all...

Continue reading...

Heavy pressures of fame were getting to me, since I was world famous,
And desperately needed a getaway, as a rainbow sometimes detains us.

I was a successful performer, and ardent press went wherever I went,
Like exotic sunsets, which give not 100, but up to a thousand...

Continue reading...