They move through the maze,
Papers wavering like
thin-skinned truth,
Each signature a quiet uprising
Against the slow- grinding
Manuel Materials
That call themselves order.
Their voices catch on procedural
irritants
Cracked syllables lagged
Across desks,
Needs folded into Manila envelopes
That wander office to office
Like pilgrims pleading for
Charity.
Red tape coils around them-
A serpent made of statues,
A ribbon intertwined from regulations,
A binding charm diffuse by
Hands
That promise representation
But deliver hesitation.
Paper pushers sit behind the
Writing desks,
Shuffling lives like loose
Documents,
Moving stacks instead of
Solutions,
Measuring urgency in forms
And stamps,
Instead of human obligations
Still they push forward,
Bearing the bulk of civic expectations,
That drag of political formality,
The discomfort of being heard
Only after being processed.
And in the end,
Their persistence becomes revelation-
Proof that even disordered
Systems
Cannot silence a people
Who declines to be filed away.
Systemic Strain Part II
Proof that survival is an art outline,
And you paint it daily with any scraps
They embark you.
They monitor your struggles without seen
In the prototype of the broken appliances
Behind it.
The group blame the person
Instead of the patterns.
They call it "Personal "
Responsibility ".
When it's genuinely Systemic Sabatoge.
But you-
You trudge with a spine that recalls everytime
You bent and still didn't quit.
You speak with a voice that carries the
Parroting of every barrier lifted.
And you say it plain, loud enough for the
Block to hear:
This tautness ain't mine
This fault ain't mine
This fight was allotted to me by a system
That never cultivated how to hold its own
Bulk.
I'm not the Crack.
I'm the pressure point.
I'm the vocal cords that named the real culprit
And to carry it's shame declines.
Age comes with its own set of changes
One being the change in memory
Our memory declines and we forget more
A frustration that becomes your daily
I have many forgetful moments
Do things sometimes l cant believe
Couple memory loss with insomnia
And theres no amount of crazy you can’t achieve
Recently, in the midst of an insomnia bout
With my body and mind in complete zombie mode
I put my lunch in the microwave to heat
Typed in the heat needed using my…..Pincode!
I kid you not…
Icy sidewalks reflecting blinding sunlight
As I march on in an unclear state of mind.
Deciding, with fate I no longer want to fight.
I feel in this grief I don't care if I'll go blind.
Surface of all the snow will always shimmer,
Even while I feel faraway from my body.
As the day declines, the sky grows dimmer.
I am simply not all here, as I miss her dearly.
I walked for two hours beneath winter sun,
But I still feel at such a loss like a tree.
Like letting go of its leaves, I let go of a ton.
Feeling I'm between worlds, somehow free.
Just as water has memory, I recall fondly
All of the times we talked, played, and ate.
She's gone, but somehow still within me.
I spiritually inherited her every good trait.
Laughing wind sings through the oaks and pines
Making me feel like it knows my heart’s thoughts
Amusing, breaths of joy flow as sunlight declines
Letting me see, even when I weep, You’re alive
Writing my story with the most tender guidelines
Murmuring through the leaves that fall in silence
Restoring my hope with Your peace who defines
Every prayer, all my praise, love who never betrays
Still, cool twilight feels like You’ve answered me
With words of grace, hope like a gentle embrace
With tears who can’t explain, I fall to my knee
Reaching out to the only One capable of healing
The One who writes my story with words who agree
Whatever comes in this life, I have another life
A life waiting in glory, where love is deeper than the sea
And I intend to swim in its wonderful for eternity
Through life’s clenched jaw,
we struggle to survive.
We see our loved ones stumble;
expectations crumble.
Anxiety keeps grinding
and grinding
us down.
Money’s tight;
life’s jaw clenches tighter.
Health declines.
The jaws of death loom nearer.
Panic-stricken people
flee the only homes they’ve ever known -
refugees escaping war
or the clench and the stench
of oppression.
Through it all,
many make it through,
but oh the woe of those
living in the unrelenting grasp
of poverty
or of being chewed to bits
by abuse and fear.
Who gets to glide through a life
where slackened
is the jaw of life?
And who decides
if a clenched jaw will constantly
be others’ plight?
Only God alone can know;
it’s not ours to reason why.
Family and friends, good attitude,
hopefully faith and prayer
will help to make life’s clenched jaw
easier to pass through.
I firmly believe that in the end,
death’s relief for many
will be a welcomed friend.
When life’s jaw unclenches,
we can be released.
Then will understanding
flood our minds
and the light of God’s pure love
be new life’s sweet caress.
The Future is a timid Guest —
It knocks — but will not stay —
Its Face half veiled in Morning mist —
Its Words — a shadow’s play —
The Clock declines to answer —
The Sun averts her Eye —
Yet in the Breath of Clover —
A Whisper will reply —
The Choice is not for Mortal Hands —
Nor any mortal Pen —
It turns upon a secret Wheel —
Once — and not again —
You saw — before the Others —
The petal’s sudden hue —
So trust the Day — when it arrives —
It has been seen — by You —
Original Haiku by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: haiku, original, sky, breath, existence, night, dark, darkness, leaf, autumn, fall, leaves, universe, beauty, loneliness, night, stars, moon
should the sky fall,
let my last breath
praise Your existence
—Michael R. Burch
It ever was night,
yet in the darkness I found you,
shining, bright.
—Michael R. Burch
a last leaf
clinging to life
declines to fall...
—Michael R. Burch
the Universe,
dazzled by her beauty,
swoons.
—Michael R. Burch
Loneliness engulfs me
like an immense night
void of stars.
—Michael R. Burch
Crow
perched quizzically on scarecrow:
natural comedian!
—Michael R. Burch
Autumn leaves
swirling:
dreams aloft & imperiled
—Michael R. Burch
struggle to fit
into cramped too-small shoes:
tiny haiku
—Michael R. Burch
your easy smile
brightens the day
natural as wildflowers
—Michael R. Burch
a single silver leaf
on the old oak tree:
autumn moon
—Michael R. Burch
A significant relationship ends,
Causing loss of a part of one's future;
Wasting a routine and a profound sense
Of attachment that needs a mental cure.
Mind in terrible shock and disbelief
Declines to accept the reality;
Intense sadness increases the deep grief,
Where heart no longer beats with joy and glee.
Frustration fiercely assaults the sad soul,
Bitterness and blame bombard the spirit;
Anger and resentment ruin the whole,
Crushing it to pieces without limit.
Attempts to negotiate start to bargain,
But this fantasy doesn't stop the wrath;
Reappearance of scenarios brings pain,
Erasing hopes to shift the aftermath.
In the period of emotional lows,
Coming to terms refuses to be killed;
When stream of everyday depression flows,
Growth begins to move forward to rebuild.
Happy
Yappy
Husky
Puppy
Barking
Playing
Jumping
Running
Growing
Showing
Stronger
Vigour
Guarding
Barking
Growling
Marking
Pees trees
With ease
Declines
Bath times
Bribes him
I win
Years past
Too fast
Sleeps more
Joints sore
Time to
Let go
Tail waves
Bye bye
Asleep
I weep
Sky shows
Rainbow
He leaves
I grieve.
Creative Writings
Self doubt declines.
This is your season of change.
Be open minded.
Not pessimistic.
Learn to grow.
Sometimes pencil to error.
Keep on writing.
Keep on brainstorming.
Through creative writings.
Creative thinking.
Black ink flows through blank spaces.
Rhythms to azure rhymes.
Poetry am I.
Publish your own remarkable life.
He sits a shadow at the bar's dim light;
a refuge from the storm that rages through his night.
His eyes, like two wells—deep and dark with pain,
reflect the turmoil that his heart can not contain.
His wife—a nagging wind that howls and whines;
a constant reminder of his troubles and declines—
drives him to drink; to drown the din, to numb the ache.
A temporary escape—a fleeting mistake.
Glug, glug, glug—the drink flows down his throat:
a sweet surrender, a moment's peace to cope.
But like a siren's song—it beckons him to stay;
a false solace—a deadly way.
His salary—a ticking time bomb, waits to explode,
eaten away by drinks; his future to be sold.
His heart—a heavy burden, is weighed down by his fears;
a slow descent into darkness—through all his tears.
It's a "well-boiled icicle" of a situation,
Indeed! A "blushing crow" of a problem that he can not heed.
The thought of biblical Revelation
Voice of Prophecy
Song of assurance
One twinkle
Time revolving
The hour
The rapture
Unseen picture
The anticipation
Observe the signs
The skies full of clouds surrounding in formation
Strong indication
The World’s fate
Knee and pray before it’s too late
Fulfillment on target
Light quickly turns to darkness
The Thunder roars
Lightning flashes
Thief in the Night
Caught by surprise
Call of the Almighty
Tomorrow’s settlement
Buckle up for the journey
Soon very soon
The Sun swiftly declines
Eerie on the horizon
Sudden stillness
Time’s up
All clocks will stop
Tick tack no more
Moment of truth told
Heaven being bold
Did you listen and take heed?
Ready or not
The Lord shall come
Find yourself among
Soon than you think.
Love waits for no one
it's more than a game
Love rushed breaks hearts
who really is to blame
Love can be unexpected
but never planned
Love can be rejected
reasons hurt to understand.
If love is true bliss and happiness thrive
If love is false, loneliness abides
If love is wanting emptiness fills
If love is absent another gives its' thrills
Time can be cruel without a love that last
desire once strong slowly declines and pass
Love needs a trust that can never break
for if broken that love lies forsake
Love waits for no one
it's more than a game
Love rushed breaks hearts
who really is to blame
Love can be unexpected
but never planned
Love can be rejected
reasons hurt to understand.
“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.”
Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Waiting for the dentist’s assessment of my implant screw.
I watch Dogwood buds on dry branches rattle on the window pane.
Why did Shakespeare’s quote pop into my head right then?
while wondering if the bone graft grew,
‘every fair from fair sometime declines.’
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