Long Accented Poems

Where Does the Butterfly Go?
by Michael R. Burch

for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba

Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails,
when thunder howls,
when hailstones scream,
when winter scowls,
when nights compound dark frosts with snow ...
Where...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems IX

These are early poems of mine, written in my teens as a high school student and during my first two years of college.

Shock
by Michael R. Burch

It was early in the morning of...

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Oh, where on earth do I begin….Twenty years ago…

There he was. Standing by the door of World Literature Class in 1996. 
There I was. Walking past him in the hallways of high school.
Our eyes met...

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Michael and Carolyn came home again
Their busy lives disrupted by death's end
Not knowing they'd encounter love unrestrained
By coming home for mom's funeral to attend
Life has some changes for which to contend
Michael and Carolyn were shocked...

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Nothing to hide*, Translation of a poem: “A coeur ouvert” by (René) Etiemble

		For Jeannine

(Later in life, Etiemble suppressed his first name, ostensibly on account of the accented “é”
 ending his first name and preceding the...

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These are her stories of why; the sad excuses of mother's life;
Her oft-honed chip, accented with her mother's old mink stole,
Tears most lovely in her eyes as she spoke of the beautiful farm;
Telling of the...

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Arlis was amazed steam was not coming off as he rode off in the rain burning with shame.Suzanne looked shell shocked by his long awaited arrival and sudden departure.And Francie looked at him hotly as...

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MILES OF BLUE
By
Tony Adamo (Nov.25,’05)

I walked into a little jazz dive off 125th and Lex.
A cold wind blew me through the swingin’ doors.
Beer, peanuts, dark smoke and the smell of times gone by laid me...

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RHYTHMIC METER: POEM SWEETER

    Poetry is disciplined in a stream having units like ‘meter’ or ‘foot’ on 
    lines similar to measurements in length, though basically, poem 
 ...

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I arose to the sun beating on my face
Stretching out all the aches and pains
Rubbing out the old stale tears from all the yesterdays
Whipping the sweat of all the left over strength from my pale...

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I am writing this poem to my husband ...

I met you at the art gallery
and will never forget that day
my eyes grazed over you
and I was left breathless
so handsome, though
I thought you needed a...

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Was he passing a baton my way that Friday, his last dawn, last day
in flesh that felt? The poet in me thinks that’s so, for barely had I
gained the door of Carol’s home (addressed my...

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Author Note: I am not sure this is what you are looking for, I find it difficult to write about 
nature without including all the related elements to the theme. If if does not qualify,...

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                Connections, how are they made?
Perceptions waved in radio, station identification 
made, declared, paved.
Frequency paired by molecules in fertile atmosphere.
Staging...

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Within the singing stillness of the sphere, I awaken from a breeze,
Consciousness, a proud guardian in the temple of endlessness,
The eternal fire in the hands of time, keeper of the ephemeral flame,
Watches with fervor the...

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I've cried the tears ...
I've suffered the years ...
I've tasted the fears ...
Of a spaceman hurtling through the void
Loneliness grows daily on the inside,
as I continue this autopilot ride
to the other side of the sun
This...

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THE AL-ANDALUS QUARTET: PART FOUR
ALMERÍA / UMM AL-MARIYA   2007 AD / 1427 AH 

The traveler who journeys to the City of Almería
arrives at a port where the routes of the ferries,
the whitecaps and...

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A back flipping coconut is very very amusing at a ball but ball pits are moving around so one must surely wear wellingtons or a pair of anglers' waders when jumping across such multicoloured curves....

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Monet's Impression, Sunrise

First impressions leave memories
That can linger for a very long time;
And give a sense of peace and understanding,
That rewards the solitude of the mind
With satisfaction, in contemplative reflection.
This may be deceiving and can...

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Oh lord hear the lonesome cowboys lullaby, singing beneath
The vast prairie open sky.
Hush, do they not lull the restless cattle to sleep, by a soft
Undertones sweet melody.
Drifting plains men, singing of the sorrows broken hearted,
And...

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The sun receded quietly on a relaxing siesta, as 
Calm clouds of the mid-afternoon smiled henced,
The beat of the drums provideth dancing rhythm
As she moved in pure elegance with harmony, to
A style of danced buoyantly...

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In a small town twenty minutes North of where you live
an alien looks in a mirror and studies your face.
You don’t know it, but he has taken over the life
that you no longer use.
While you...

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Winter morning light filters through lace curtains,
Reaches down, spills onto the corner kitchen sink,
Through east and south facing windows.
The glass jar, the scrub brush and pad in plastic butter dish,
A down-turned, empty yogurt container,
The pink...

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In a small town twenty minutes North of where you live
an alien looks in a mirror and studies your face.
You don’t know it, but he has taken over the life
that you no longer use.
While you...

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Today I’d like to talk to you about how meter plays a part in
how we write a poem and sometimes in how we speak

The above lines, which are not at all poetic, are written in...

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