Best Unburned Poems

Young as just a week,
He was wrapped in a flannel.
His tender feet were shoeless -
Today was his appointed time;
 His feet must dialogue with gods.

The frontage was kind
To the pews and table.
The priest stood before the gods,
His grey hairs vouched for his age.
He opened the...

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You don't love me, you don't have compassion, 
Maybe I am handsome not enough, 
You don't look in face with wild passion 
putting arms on shoulders without love.

I'm not rude or gentle with you, dear, 
You're so young and you've got sensual grin, 
Tell, how...

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I was going to be late to work again, as it was one of those days,
When one small mishap after another, made for way too many delays.

Lateness had become a genuine problem, to a person craving order,
As the sea craves additional space, at the sandy...

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Warm Embrace, I remember clear of such,
My body helpless at your touch,
You voiced three words into thine ear,
And courage shyed in veil of fear.

You rest a hand beneath my jaw,
As staring through your eyes, I saw,
A flame, strong lit, though burning near,
A stream, from sourced,...

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One baby’s sleeping
By mother’s lullaby
His nose she’s clearing
Then she’ll wash the baby in a bay.

The baby has to wake up
And a helicopter’s flying by
The mother’s belly starts to move,
But she doesn’t know why,
And milk is pouring from the top,
And another love she has to prove.

The...

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A Christmas Tale 

When a child we had small live candles on the Christmas tree; 
the fire service had a busy night. Mum had a bucket of water
 by the tree and kept an eye on it as we children forgot.
 The tree caught fire;...

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I've set our bridge on fire but I couldn't burn it down

some bridges can't be burned because they are made by love and love can't be burned away
because it is the strongest against enemies,fires,anything at all

when two people have that love,nothing can stop them

The bridge...

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These are poems about Dylan Thomas, as well as poems "for" and "after" Dylan Thomas. Dylan Thomas was one of my favorite poets from my early teens and has remained so over the years. I have written three poems ‘for’ him and one poem ‘after’...

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It was a day that started out just like any other one
We never dreamed America could come under attack
It seemed an enemy had slipped through a crack
Who knew they would come from behind our back
They sucker punched us, this was a fact

A day Americans thought...

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Steel coffins race across the sand,
Rommel's making his last stand.
The 88's are cracking steel
With loud-sharp-noise like bursting bells.

As columns march across the steppe
Are swallowed up in Asia's depths.
"Bomber" harries is on the phone:
"Bomb Berlin til it's all gone!"

Don't leave an unburned child still standing
In the...

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Today is the Very First Day
The Very First Day of the Very First Year
The Very First Year of a New
And Very long awaited Decade.

I turn my head toward the Future to say
As if to say to all of the Ended of Days
'The Past Year is...

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Myth, after Dylan Thomas
by Michael R. Burch

Here the recalcitrant wind
sighs with grievance and remorse
over fields of wayward gorse
and thistle-throttled lanes.

And she is the myth of the scythed wheat
hewn and sighing, complete,
waiting, lain in a low sheaf?
full of faith, full of grief.

Here the immaculate dawn
requires belief...

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Radiance
by Michael R. Burch

for Dylan Thomas

The poet delves earth’s detritus—hard toil—
for raw-edged nouns, barbed verbs, vowels’ lush bouquet;
each syllable his pen excretes—dense soil,
dark images impacted, rooted clay.

The poet sees the sea but feels its meaning—
the teeming brine, the mirrored oval flame
that leashes and excites its...

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Standing on a beam,
shrine :
holding a black dawn,

my phoenix roving on dark river.
The bell still clangs ;
I hear the footsteps.

A weird thought
spreads out on peripherals,
makes holes,

the undone communiqué
of a war
between knuckles ;

the blind eyes 
lift the fallen globe
of light.

I move from tree to tree.
Who was...

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Fool you are to find me again only for this
The shredding of the prism in the heart
The tearing of settled consolation apart
For it was only one night of frenzied heat
That piled us, drained us, emptied our sheet
Kissed me cold and trembling in the mist.

Fool I...

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