Long Brisk up Poems

State of the Art (III)

These are my "ars poetica" poems: the ones about the art and craft of writing poetry in a modern world that doesn't always recognize the artists or their work. 



Come Down
by...

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Poems about Mothers


Mother's Smile
by Michael R. Burch

There never was a fonder smile
than mother's smile, no softer touch
than mother's touch. So sleep awhile
and know she loves you more than "much."

So more than "much, " much more...

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Erin, for a girl who embodies Ireland
by Michael R. Burch

All that’s left of Ireland is her hair—
bright carrot—and her milkmaid-pallid skin,
her brilliant air of cavalier despair,
her train of children—some conceived in sin,
the others to avoid...

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Sonnets LXI-LXX

Erin
by Michael R. Burch

All that’s left of Ireland is her hair?
bright carrot?and her milkmaid-pallid skin,

her brilliant air of cavalier despair,
her train of children?some conceived in sin,

the others to avoid it. For nowhere
is evidence of...

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Poems about Poems IV

The Toast
by Michael R. Burch

For longings warmed by tepid suns
(brief lusts that animated clay),
for passions wilted at the bud
and skies grown desolate and gray,
for stars that fell from tinseled heights
and mountains bleak...

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Verse 1: My destiny...
My dignity...
Is all gone since you left me with nothing to lose
I'm willing to let go of this grudge in my heart...cut loose the noose 
That's around my neck
Give me your love...

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With summer nearly gone, we all wanted to do something special,
And decided it should be daring, rather than the usual and dull.

So, we listed the things we desired to do, but hadn't yet tried,
And we...

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Of Ghosts and Fiends in Twilight


The sun sank low on the darkening horizon
Grey mist hung adrift over the land thickening
A cold, brisk autumn wind held and embraced me 
With my horse’s pace and that of...

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Every day, ‘round 8 am, I climb up from the subway and pass a guy - a blind guy -  who is there to beg for change.
But one day, as I paused to watch...

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Twice the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Yet again awoken by winter when the third was three in number.

I sense that a silence doth sneak ‘tween cracks of weathered wood,
Conniving with that which shadows...

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Once the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Whence the winter woke me when the third was three in number.

I sense that a wince doth lurk and wear which wicked gaze,
Of conniving shadows cast between...

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A prawn masquerading as a peanut can be quite disturbing. So many times a peel is a garment used to shroud. A tentacle hidden. Here and there. Then to reappear with an often violent burst...

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Poems about Poets VII

Gallant Knight
by Michael R. Burch

for Alfred Dorn and Anita Dorn

Till you rest with your beautiful Anita,
rouse yourself, Poet; rouse and write.
The world is not ready for your departure,
Gallant Knight.

Teach us to sing...

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This brisk, sunny March morning, I return from delivering my son to his adult daycare van.  

Upon opening The Norwich Times, I delight to read the new Center for Safe Futures "will be taking...

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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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Make Do and Mend,

Years ago we had jobs
We had fun and money in our pocket
Things were much better then
Once you could go out the door
And never ever lock it

But still so many struggled
To buy food...

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A wince doth lurk wearing which wicked gaze,
Of conniving cast shadows ‘tween my windowpanes.

Gazing through the window’s diaphanous gelid glass, 
I see a flushing fluorescent misty haze of frothy brass.

It floats aloft the frost of...

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Here's the scoop, friends...
   This is, as indicated, the 1st HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. The 2nd half had to be posted separately due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations. No other way...

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His walk into town would prove fateful that day,
As his mind wandered idly while finding his way.
His footsteps were brisk like fall chill in the air,
Past Wellington Gate, south of Denby town square.

He paused for...

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Ah... tis nothing greater than...

malfunctioning heater 
on that brisk winter day
recorded here as proof positive
regarding following reasonable rhyme.

While scrolling thru 
poems crafted yesteryear,
I chanced to jog my memory where
there
occurred power outage necessitated 
more than divine...

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spend your day expressed by grace ordered from a Payton place
cheer each moment from the edge of the setting sun a very well done
climb each pillar of thought and deed to reach forth every bit...

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“I’m sorry that it’s been so long,” the old man told the tombstones, scanning them that brisk fall day, in 1969.
“It’s not that I’ve forgotten you.    It’s not that I’m not proud...

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Coincidence or not, virtually every married couple I know that is comprised of two farm - or small-town - raised persons is thoroughly enjoying as close to an ideal life as can be expected in...

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*last winter break*

I woke up abruptly, my chest gripped and tight. My face felt hot but my arms stung as if frostbitten. I gasped for air that wouldn’t come, as if I had a plastic...

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Severe surge regarding thou shalt not kill violations

Fifth commandment breached regularly
epidemic of gun violence in America
bullets fly, scream and tear into flesh
senseless rampant mass killings
rip across fabric of society
buzzfeeding, jump/kickstarting, 
paradigm of mortality.

Since January first
two...

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