Best To Beat The Band Poems

(after Edgar Allan Poe's "The Angel of the Odd")

It was a tidy day and I sat, replete, under vellux blankets.
Sadly, my tea was weak, the bottle of cinnamon whiskey
tantalizingly low, and my feet swelling above my anklets.
So I was snippy one might say, zippy, flipping...

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It's raining cats and dogs on a dark and stormy night -
with such a stroke of genius, a poet starts to write.
Inane clichés he's banging out to beat the band,
a booby trap as big as life to bite the poet's hand.

It opens up a can...

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He Clapped For Us All

he could clap like it hurt his pink palms,
regarding us with sacred consideration 
promises, words, meaningless, bland,
creations for every special occasion,

words waving like proud embattled flags
and he might rub noisy skin on cold hands,
like desiccated snakes in brown paper bags,
before describing...

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I worked in a bowlin' place settin' pins,

Tryin' not to let a ball break my shins!

In those days of yore, pins were set by hand,

And you had to hustle to beat the band!

I was around fourteen when I was hired,

And was around fourteen when I...

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He plied the Mississippi River on the paddle wheeler 'Dandy Dame'.
Gamblin' was his profession and three-card monte was his game.
He became very creative at palmin' that elusive ace of spades.
Such dexterity and sleight of hand he had practiced for decades!

He embarked in Saint Louis for...

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My goodness, how rude can one get?
I haven’t even finished speaking yet.
Your uncaring interruption,
has ruined my thought construction.
Now I have to put my thoughts on the shelf.
Couldn’t you see I was talking to myself ?!

And when I ask you to look for my keys,
Don’t make...

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Sawing Firewood For My Dad, Again

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
 heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so very cold,
 so get it done before we all grow old."

Boys, don't gripe, somebody got to do it
 so hurry...

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Farmer Dan, was a gambling man, who loved to play at some cards;
So to beat the band, he tried his hand, at the other farm yards.

On one day, he struck pay day, at the home of good farmer Dow,
And walked away, with some hay, plus...

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The Original Sin: Rhyming Haiku!
 
Haiku
should never rhyme:
it’s a crime!
-Michael R. Burch
 
The herons stand,
sentry-like, at attention ...
rigid observers of some unknown command.
-Michael R. Burch
 
Late
fall;
all
the golden leaves turn black underfoot:
soot
-Michael R. Burch
 
Dry leaf flung awry:
bright butterfly,
goodbye!
-Michael R. Burch
 
A snake in the grass
lies,...

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The cloak closet was fairly clean
A brief dust would do it
Then pouring rain set in two days
Leaving white walls unfit

Now the closet isn't sparkling clean
From those down stream's dribbles
On the clean outside all looks well
Inside black ink scribbles

A hard untidy job ahead
Removing the contents
A stinky,...

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When I enrolled in magical school
Ma said good luck
Dad called me a fool

He always thought with my IQ
I’d fix people up,
Not saw them in two.

But I had a vision
And my self esteem
Hung on the balance
Of this simple dream

So I packed my bag
Gave Ma a hug
Reached...

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Confessions Of A Poet



As the dark hour slays the great setting Sun
earthly fires in the nether regions flame
The poet's heart must see both to have fun
words spit forth earnestly but not a game
Slashing  one's own soul to get the job done

In the midst of...

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(On May 1 1960, at the very depth of the
Cold War, CIA pilot Gary Powers was shot
down over the central USSR.  Here we are
imagining his conversation with a charge
d'affaires of the US Embassy.  Powers
is threatening to go public on CIA 
mismanagement and to...

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My spouse and I were ushered to our table by the Maitre d'.
We noticed right off that it was strangely quiet as could be!

Zombies sat at their tables, heads bowed as if in meditation.
Many with glazed eyes as if in la la land under sedation!

I...

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He could clap like it hurt his pink palms
and regard us with sacred considerations 
Promises, words, meaningless, bland,
created for every special occasion,

Words waved like proud embattled flags
Or he might rub noisy skin on cold hands,
like desiccated snakes in brown paper bags,
before describing some special acquaintance...

Continue reading...