Best Throned Poems

I was cursed with ink 
intoxicating blank canvases 
with toxic scribbles,
releasing twisted tales 
of suppressed troubles.
I was a forsaken  ebony rose 
in satan's grasp,
kneeling on ungodly needs
in a gothic fortress 
of woeful odes,
surrounded by black knights
and colorless blossoms,
searching for legitimate sestinas
and versatile villanelles
to ignite...

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I gaze beyond 
the silver winged 
     heart of 
twinkling twilight,
lost within metaphors 
    in warm cashmere
    bows of midnight. 
Whilst lava lamps
      for lost souls
f l i c k...

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I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
I think I made you up inside my head.
-Sylvia Plath

I see no reason to rhyme, 
but an aching heart, 
stranded in the midst of nothingness,
as quill rests in...

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“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven.



I’m sitting on the cusp
of blazing silence,
watching thick
sullen clouds 
swerve in funeral pace,
as ruby reds within 
ravishing rainbows,
disappear into depths of
blue...

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As the sky weeps 
in periwinkle petals of 
multicolored roses,
rinsed in lemons, and lavender,
the poet within me 
releases a bougainvillea 
bouquet of unfiltered gratitude, 
swaying to the celestial duet
orchestrated by 
the angel of raindrops,
adorned in braided 
wildflower crowns and
windswept wishes,
echoing dulcet melodies 
rendered in whimsical...

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He is silence, 
crowned in rosy rhymes, 
sprinkling balmy rain 
upon frail flowers. 
misunderstood, yet 
beneath his armor, 
is the selfless moon, 
bestowing starlight.
when darkness unfolds, 
time may be cruel, 
but seasons can't wilt 
soft-spoken sagas, 
echoing amidst 
hushed sanctuaries. 
he shoulders the weight 
of...

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When the mirror of 
               life is a gossamer film,       
 veiling v i n t a g e polaroids that 
   ...

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When the sky is a 
   sequestered sanctuary,
and the clouds croon 
for sinking star-beams,
listen to the euphoric hymns of silence,
for seething storms throned 
beneath rainbow castles
shall never obscure the 
crystalline colors of compassion,
amidst thickened fangs 
of dwelling darkness,
constantly trying to 
  ...

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“If, to speak my truths, I bleed these syllables, let the wind ferry them to a moon-kissed shore,
for I am a caged rose dreaming in deafening darkness” Quote by Poet

               ...

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I gaze beyond 
the sky of sapphires,
waiting for a
spark of sailing light,
listening to 
the balmy breeze~
they kiss the 
rays of silver,
with tales of 
my eclipsed past. 

Maybe tonight dandelion 
wind will dance in sync~
to sunset kayaks cruising
through wounded waves, 
shimmering amidst
tear-stained dunes… 

I lean on...

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Throned green eyed rat in
golden trap of cheesy poo
he rules like a king ...

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Nestled with the glittering elements, 
I ponder the immortality of the senses—
my lucidity twirls,
as pirouetting flakes through
sapphire mist amidst cyanic windstorms, 
drifting like arctic embers, 
towards cerulean twilight skies, 
beyond frost covered pains, 
littered across glacial clouds that linger,
swirling upon an indigo iced cluster of...

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A mirror never reveals  
fallen secrets sewn with soulful sequins;  
time unmutes raven melodies within,  
tawny tunes of truth~
   I once spoke in colorful dialects.  
Now, I trust just the crying crescent in your  
onyx realms  
...

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The caged bird sings with a fearful trill, of things unknown, but longed for still, and his tune is heard on the distant hill, for the caged bird sings of freedom-
Maya Angelou


Reality may be a poetic cocktail of pistachio and pecan,
yet it tastes the same...

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Sappho, fragment 58
loose translation by Michael R. Burch 
 
Pain
drains
me
to
the
last
drop
.



Sappho, fragment 130 (Lobel-Page 130 / Voigt 130)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.



Sappho, unnumbered fragment
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What cannot be swept
aside
must be wept.



Sappho, fragment 138 (Lobel-Page 138)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael...

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