Best Pretexts Poems

My eyes were sorely struck when once they perceived
verity in your insightful words. Oh, how they grieved
when you chose to kneel low enough to kiss the ring
of a cunning being, whose unmerited praises you sing

My ignorance would have been a cliched state of bliss
if I'd...

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In the eye of the hurricane, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : En el ojo del hurracan

(Ninth in the collection : Metafora del Desafuero, published – according to the editor, Alejandro 
Duque Amusco – not in 1988, but in 1989, was awarded the « Premio...

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O we are all very well informed 
how horrible might been our reality
in the time  of transition
from one evil regime to other.
When one day all monsters and predators
from the park of totalitarian  communistic  Jurassic 
suddenly exploded  out  for absolute freedom
according...

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(TO THE VICTIMS OF WAR IN MY NATIVE
 CAMEROON AND IN NORTHERN NIGERIA)

Giants 
Have filled 
The FAR North
Sweeping
Bloodbathing 
With sophisticated 
Heavy weapons
Connected on a 
Barren land
Communicating
As from satellites,
Techniques and
Outfits of
The expedition
They got THERE
Thundering, 
Murdering, 
Raping, and 
Reaping
The scarce 
Bank notes kept aside 
To launch our...

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A lapse of judgment, a tempest of rage;
A crazy obsession, to not be assuaged.
Aggression triggered by an avoidance of life;
Anger transmitted by internal strife.

A malignant cancer, that blankets the soul;
Aimless, directionless, irrational goals.
Misunderstandings, needs to be addressed,
Lives of conflict and bitter unrest.

Insecure souls in need...

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The incongruity sparkles, dirty diamonds in a drain,
With hackles rising, lips drawn back, in lemon peeling pain;
A psychodrama stage of sleight springboards the stupid head,
“I know,” she thinks, “I’m always right, I know that’s what he said.”

The egotism sponges as a leech ingesting blood,
The eyes...

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I once wrote a POTW, getting to know you, was the theme 
Simple little rhyme, about soupers commonalities it seems 
Now I’m discovering disparity, divisions, different schisms 
Joining the dots together, one picture emerges, extremism 
A few (leading lights), have gathered sheep into their pens
Who...

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I couldn't avert my gaze off the sublime sunset,
I was utterly dazzled by the magnanimous deed,
I could follow the artist's pastel-colored hands bet,
And mother's deep love, after she has relaid seed.

I was utterly dazzled by the magnanimous deed,
I dimly bar my eyes as I could...

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So to say


To do more for the retain land, aliens can do everything
Dear, come let us  weave a rope of Great Wall again 
That would be able, to tie strong, enough, if you unite 
Let it not be broke by aliens, showing ill will...

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Irritatingly often unnecessarily compliant
to the whims of those about him
endlessly wordlessly wondering
about the many demented subjective qualities
of our ever present mammalian imperative via
a thought balloon filled with candy and bullets
that lingers menacingly overhead
announcing the death of the Occult
the secrets of which simply ran out of...

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Once a poet is done psychically with his or her craft
With the vernacular of his or her masterpieces
It’s the role of the readers to add mentally missing pieces
Parts, ideas, images, a few words and a sophisticated shaft
To mechanize, modernize or upgrade the messages
A poem is,...

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You go down in the dry pool
foraging for the political errors,
irisprints, a certain desire of revolt, 
any skeleton to identify the victim.
An awful claim, the accuser was becoming accused.

For namesake somebody was dying
unceremoniously for holding tuberculosis.
Dots did not help. Washed and dried curses
went into the...

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Hiroshima Poems I

Let Us Be Midwives!
by Hiroshima survivor Sadako Kurihara
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Midnight...
the basement of a shattered building...
atomic bomb survivors sniveling in the darkness...
not a single candle between them...
the odor of blood...
the stench of death...
the sickly-sweet smell of decaying humanity...
the groans...
the moans...
Out of...

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As of the virgin voter robbed off her conscience
Freedoms of expression turned into a massacre...
Protestant chap spoke of the deed, how lame are
We the stereotypical "us", to turn protest a violent

Turmoil only inflicted and turns a tragedy for my
Daughter had been shot, Was it the...

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I would in deed thee truly wed
Token drops of blood for you bled
Lavish garlands at your feet spread
Kneeling at your feet all pretense shed
Vow that by virtue and fealty be led
Each promise proofed and carefully read 
Barter my name in your stead
Banish all pretexts; to self...

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