Sea Hyperbole Poems

("Blue Egg In Red Sea", 2020, original oil)

Person Non-Grata

Call me old-fashioned,
but I’m glad my mother was a woman.
I’m glad about a lot of things actually,
the...

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Does an empty jar weep? 6
Crying wine or water 6
My hollow bowl thirsty 6
You scream for wet matter 6

Yet you lie like a dry monk...

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In the morning,
I am not a poet.
This is no matter of opinion,
It is an undisputable fact, and don't I know it.

I am not a poet
In...

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Of all the things that I could be
     I think I'll not select  
      ...

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Hurricane Haiku: 5 Movements

		The sea is angry;
		The winds echo her screaming—
		The hurricane comes…

		Torrential waves
		Carry furry to the shores:
		Fragility doomed…

		Island paradise,
		Poised and ready for combat;
		Nature’s sad...

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Instruction
by Michael R. Burch

Toss this poem aside
to the filigreed and the wild tide
of sunset.

Strike my name,
and still it is all the same.
The onset

of night is...

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Your avant-garde home fills a crucial niche
   ensures the perpetuation of outrageous kitsch

The painting on the wall entitled 'Insemination'
   keeps this...

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At seventy-plus, the top of my noggin is a barren landscape
that once grew a messy crop of auburn hair.
And yet, some scattered strands of grey
still,...

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Years on the rack.
Stretched out and winding
Cogs and broken pieces
Shrapnel.

While I
Box upon box.
The unburied dead. The hatchet.
Littering my surroundings
The casings of a former life
The scorched...

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My love is deeper than the Red Sea.
From which the Egyptian corpses neither breathe nor see.
More rapid than the tides of Tiber!
That chide and shock...

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For This Is The Story, An Old Poet Sought Not To Miss
 (Part One)

I've ate Eden's last apple, coveted Jason's* golden fleece
chained myself in caverns...

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A saffron sun sinks into
a sea of aquamarine.
And chartreuse shadows slip-slide
between frothy waves of white.

Night's ebony fingers dip
into the coral waters.
And Sol paints shades of...

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Scribbling with amber-colored crayons,
time scrawls sepia on ancient rocks.
And ocher and orange canyon walls
rise above bushes wearing dust frocks.

Flora and fauna are left behind
serpentine rapids...

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Whored the moon

   'neath ravaged warm tides,

whence snowflakes caught fire

  channeling sea's frothy surrender

        ...

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Merry Go
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire

AAAY .. It is the pluck of dawn
Morning is examined
YAAY .. i m going wake up
I am breathing again
Ready stable and able
Bouncing and...

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