Ix Poems - Poems about Ix

My Baby Doll - Part IX

You were my baby doll and I owned you for almost seven years.
You were my all time favorite dog and I wish you were still here.
You were very special, wonderful and unique.
When I found you dead, it was sad and bleak.
I had to dig a hole and bury you in the ground.
I would be happier

Flower Chide IX, Thornpact

"Eons back, we feared the petal's grace,
called beauty pride, and named it place"
"Mistakes were made, but wisdom stayed"
said Thallorin,"not every path must be replayed".

Each bloom now understood, but still
Knowing alone could never kill,
The monster born from rootless scar
who thrived when petals turned to war.

So, stem by stem, with colors waned,
they sought the one their fear

FOR IX : EMIGRATING FRIEND

 FOR IX : EMIGRATING FRIEND

Fly lightly IX within Merlin’s wings
may your Mohican pony-tail 
grow thick and strong
may Africa kiss America 
with gentle sensation long
may salty breath of Cape Town
mingle with New York ~
may clear sub-atomic particles
continue to dance in humble service 
with harmonious Awareness 
may two crows and all Duality 
dissolve into Unity
via your

Igor needs a bigger lab IX

Don is the ultimate user
His deals seal you as a loser 
When Trump holds the cards
The lives now in shards
Bear witness he’s an abuser

The Don has a trick to reveal
He’ll dick you and cancel your deal
Like hands on your neck
Trump voids your paycheck
And feels ecstasy when you squeal

If acts are life’s indicator
Don’s a classic woman

Unspoken Affections: Part-IX

if I could fly in the sky, I will declare my love to the people on ground
If I could talk to the birds, I will ask them to add some melodies in the scene
But you stood across the road, denying something you started
The look from your eyes and its torturing action- my cheeks grew warmer
But

Epigrams IX

These are epigrams by Michael R. Burch


Road to Recovery
by Michael R. Burch

It’s time to get up and at ’em
and out of this rut that I’m sat in.

A man may attempt to burnish pure gold, but who can think to improve on his mother?—Mahatma Gandhi, translation by Michael R. Burch

A mother's heart is God's ultimate masterpiece.—St.

Sappho Translations IX

Sappho Translations IX


Sappho, fragment 17
translation by Michael R. Burch

Hear me, Queen Hera, as your delightful festival nears,
you to whom the sons of Atreus performed vows,
those dazzling kings who did such amazing things,
first at Troy, then later at sea.
And yet, sailing the sea-road to our island,
those mighty kings still could not attain it
until they had called

Arabique IX

"Bahebuk awi ya ostaz, ya baba, ya zaim el wasim."
"Bahebik awi ya ostaza, ya amoura, ya zaima."
Then the Cree lady embraced the Egyptian Arab man.

word U S P IX monet

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BM IX ecphrasis piano

La Campanelle* by Franz Liszt
                                                  

SL ecphrais couplet IX

Jan de Vliegher 'Treasury' *
a grande scale installation refectory

The Hungry Stones IX

Let me not delve deep on what panned out thence, 
The gloom of nights deepened still further dense, 
And there was time I felt a puny pawn, 
My wanderings meandered when till dawn— 
A pawn being taken for sacrifice, 
Through curious halls of the vast edifice, 
Where, I would go led by a helping hand,

CLERIHEW ecphrasis IX

August Macke German Expessionist
clearly an 'art enigmatist'
'Lady in green'* an example thereof
full of wistfulness of a lost love

Children's Poems IX

The Tapestry of Leaves
Michael R. Burch

Leaves unfold
as life is sold
or bartered, for a moment in the sun.

The interchange
of lives is strange:
what reason—life—when death leaves all undone?

O, earthly son
when rest is won
and wrested from this ground, then through my clay's

soft mortal soot
thrust forth your root
until your leaves embrace the sun's bright rays.


The Long Days Lengthening Into

Limericks IX

Limericks IX



Scratch-n-Sniff
by Michael R. Burch

The world’s first antinatalist limerick?

Life comes with a terrible catch:
It’s like starting a fire with a match.
Though the flames may delight
In the dark of the night,
In the end what remains from the scratch?



Time Out!
by Michael R. Burch

Time is at war with my body!
am i Time’s most diligent hobby?
for there’s never Time

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