In Secret Caverns, we harken to the darkness.
Our headlamps’ shut off, we are anywhere,
we are everywhere, it doesn’t matter where.
No matches, no breeze, no breath to strike
up the light, no moon, no sun, no shuffling.
Absolutely still - our souls, our conscience,
what disturbs the ash of our ultimate destiny.
No one dares to whisper in this golden cage.
The ages pass by, primordials stir, Jesus is
still in his wrappings. My heart, subdued, like
earplugs in their caves. My eyes, wide open,
stand at attention, to retain the inner light.
I stand in the lake, my life jacket does not glow;
however I grow in sensation; I float upright.
We are the rests between notes. We dote on
the inky calm, not a mere closure of lids; liars,
those pair of skin divers, that blink away shine.
Sans shadows, peaking at the sublimity of time.
I love this road.
Every little mound, and every crevasse,
Flower filled, to the brim.
The moths and mosquitos caught in my headlamps.
Trees of aspen and oak keeping me on track.
And here, the night clouds are much darker than the night sky.
And jets zoom 50 metres above my head, asking,
"What are you here for?"
In which I respond, "I'm taking in the sights."
"This road is beautiful."
"I wonder where it ends."
"Does it really have to end?"
And as for the rest,
Every single time, at every single jet,
I'm shaking, trembling, I'm speeding at each bump.
Pot-holes ruin my suspension.
My engine weakens (believably gently) at the thought.
My brake pads and wheels through the wearing of my rubber--
They're guiding me slowly out of this car.
And here, glowing brighter than the moon, I ask them,
"Why are you so weak?"
In which they respond, "I'm just burning bright."
"This road is beautiful."
"I'm wondering when does it end."
"And, will it end before me?"
My dream date
A crisp gray night with its musing moon
against a tapestry of woven stars.
The seasonal bloom's fragrance the air.
Dressed up, feeling sexy, I welcome him at my door.
He, with a strong look and seductive voice,
tall, broad shoulders, dressed casual in jeans,
dress shirt, and blazer.
His bright headlamps illuminating our path
to a perfect romantic restaurant.
Enjoying a comfortable evening just talking,
laughing, and flirting getting to know each other.
The sweet silent grins exchange
he walks me back to my door and hugged goodnight.
1/31/2023
My Dream Date Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Flashes like rainbow sunlight lit
Shone her belligerent facade
The sheriff headlamps rays
Subsided into quest
Then at last her secret broke out
Like mucus from a stayed baked bread
5/26/2020
HEXASTICH IT Poetry Contest
Nette Onclaud
East Devon Beacon
by Michael R. Burch
Evening darkens upon the moors,
Forgiveness?a hairless thing
skirting the headlamps, fugitive.
Why have we come,
traversing the long miles
and extremities of solitude,
worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps
with directions
obtained from passing strangers?
Why do we sit,
frantically retracing
love’s long-forgotten signal points
with cramping, ink-stained fingers?
Why the preemptive frowns,
the litigious silences,
when only yesterday we watched
as, out of an autumn sky this vast,
over an orchard or an onion field,
wild Vs of distressed geese
sped across the moon’s face,
the sound of their panicked wings
like our alarmed hearts
pounding in unison?
Keywords/Tags: East, Devon, Beacon, England, Moors, Forgiveness, Maps, Miles, Lost, Directions, Compass Points, Moon, Geese, Lights, Headlights, Headlamps, Fugitive
They fell into sound slumber
but a baby was awake, monitoring
to driver’s seat the baby dashed
engine blasted and off it went
zigzagging the highway
bumping into other vehicles
the baby driver went on
“See, even the steering wheel is off!
but worry not, sleepy kids!
I’m in control
God is in greater control
You know I’m God’s baby
sent to save you from wreckage
our hired driver was asleep!”
And the vehicle ate soil
it buried its headlamps
and the tire opened its belly
Scared passengers jumped off
those shouting were hammered
with the broken wheel
as baby driver laughed off all
finally crashing
into a heap of garbage
then rolling into the Sea
Waves blew scattering the wretched
into the Sea of Scorpions
With headlamps dark, my car was parked
Where moonbeams bathed a summer night
When fragile fingers found my grasp
And floral fragrance of perfume
Imbued in me a rich desire
To cant my face and taste soft lips:
First kiss, first kiss, first sheer delight,
Her cool, fresh breath upon my cheek
As fingers, sleek, combed through my hair:
First kiss, first kiss, my throbbing heart,
Wide eyes adoring dismayed face
As hand of mine whisked silken cloth:
First kiss, first kiss, warm girlish curves,
Then bust, petite, beneath my palm,
A moment heady, flesh all numb—
First kiss, first kiss, so long ago.
My Mate’s Car
It’s a limousine Cadillac with all the luxuries you would want. Check it out as he drives past. He has electric windows for hot July days. A digital stereo to blare his metal music out on front and back speakers, buck the old people! With a sunroof to chill with when out with his itch. When the sun dies darkness falls, ok! Got front fog lamps to dazzle other drivers. Baked up by levelling headlamps aimed rite into their eyes! With an adjustable steering wheel that gives enough room for his itch to fit snugly between his eggs to fix his rock. His doors are secure with central looking so no cop can stop the illegal act. What a machine!
Once upon a time
In a land not so far
Lived a lead footed man
Alone with his car.
He longed to go fast
Speed flawlessly down the track
So he looked for a car
A Mustang in fact.
It was love at first sight
From bumper to bumper
He adored her sleek look
And got rid of his clunker.
The metallic silver hue
How she sparkles in the light
Those amazing blue headlamps
Just look killer at night.
The windows tinted dark
The car low to the ground
She’s sure to turn heads
While driving around.
She was built to go fast
She was built to go far
Not sit in some garage
Like an old man’s show car.
He steps on the gas
The engine begins to roar
The turbo whistles loud
As the rpms soar.
The excitement is great
His heart beats fast in his chest
Shifting through gears
This time will be his best.
He speeds by his opponent
The world goes by in a blur
To the young man
Winning is the best to occur.
He’ll be noted as great
By friends and other men
Then get back in the staging lane
To do it over again.
We were oh! So bored
With the war game on the net;
The other players fuzz-faced lads
Bent on slaughter.
Then we teleported to Freisland
And landed in his back-yard …
No escape … terrified …
Rabbits in his headlamps.
This fearsome Swiss Baron
Swatted and teased us;
Played with us as cats do
With baby mice …
But as we played, the Baron and I
Came to a mutual respect …
Me for his mastery,
Cycnus for my guile.
He won, of course.
He was the great Baron Cycnus!
I was just another noob …
Blood in the dust.
Now he’s destroyed me,
I can get my real life back,
And do all those things neglected
While I played with Cycnus.
But next time …
If there is a next time …
I’m on the Baron’s side!
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