Long Bulwarks Poems

“He fought often and once bled in the cause of freedom, but his habits of War did not lessen in him the peaceful virtues which adorn his private life.”  Doctor Benjamin Rush, signer of...

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Reaping short terms benefits...

before marital savings bond matured
as a then quinquagenarian.

Courtesy gerontologists medical practitioners
allowing, enabling, and providing
the elderly population to live
longer and healthier lives.

Linkedin with longevity loosely translates
to resurgent libido spurring
older folks predilection
to participate in...

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Ghostly spirits from deadly arsenal spell haunting annihilation

With mighty mouse and Hercules height 
tried to retrieve sanity spread loose;
a faded unpleasant memory - even enlisting
decades old cartoon characters: 
Natasha squirrel and Bullwinkle moose
flow of electrons...

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THE RUIN 
an Old English poem about fate & destiny
modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

well-hewn was this wall-stone, till Wyrdes wrecked it
and the Colossus sagged inward...

broad battlements broken;
the Builders' work battered;

the high ramparts toppled;
tall...

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The campaign …
was over -
he, the last left alive on the
field of battle, and barely, at that …
his men had fought valiantly -
the odds were never theirs,
yet he was content in
their efforts, and more than...

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Historically accurate, narrative poem

25 June, 1876 - Valley of the Little Bighorn

Nothing stirs this June night, not a summer’s breeze or a breath of life.  All is eerily quiet, and on yonder hillside, shroud...

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Here’s a twain of siblings so delicate—
The tenor and its weary vehicle,
Similar are, nor yet so disparate
O lady, art not thou so fickle? 

In seeming sameness struts lady contrast, 
Harmony jars to sing in unsure...

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Poetry IS the Mother of ALL art.
The completion and the part.
A private punchline-divine.
Be it the fruit or be it the vine.
It is The IS, sometimes the Music,
sometimes the Muse for us.
The usery that uses us.
The...

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Up in Smoke With Satan's Folk!

Our Nation, State, burns up in smoke; it’s rape and pillage time!
As Satan’s folk trash social bulwarks, ‘brotherhood’s a crime.’
God’s nailed to walls ‘fake news’ erects (to hide its flaccid...

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Better to be bold in battle
then benign in retreat!
No victory comes from actions prattle;
May honor be found in refusing defeat -

My vaults will not be breeched
by faults,
may we have a merry waltz
devoid of all unsavory...

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A friend asked this simple?? question,
which provoked this universal answer session.

Why wake and get out of bed each morn?
My goddess!!  I adore each fresh dawn.

For starters - there's life,
each day a chance to lessen...

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So sailed they then o'er seas well spent~ 
Torn their skys & mastheads back bent~ 
Under their bowsprits well to a'sea~ 
From ravages o'wind did'st they then flee~ 

Down from their bulwarks & under their...

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This Bard Doth Drink From The Same Well As Thee...

Everybody sharing planet Earth means,
     they moost breathe
     the same befouled air
encircling the webbed material,
   ...

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How can the possible death of the planet not be a concern 
to Conservatives claiming that they’re conservationists,
party of Lincoln (who died in pursuit of the freedom of slaves)
now claims racists and rabble who honor...

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Stare all over, O World, you scarcely utter.
Bear stalwart angels to arise over the air tugger.
Odoriferous water may abscond the realm of prosily.
Such as the Goddess of Heaven perpetrates an odyssey,

Please, Lord, I pray you...

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My Home Is No Fortress

Speechless thoughts flow out as words when the drawbridge is upended 

                   ...

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jampacked city streets
that jangled and banged
in the raucous jarring day
shifted
from business to boogaloo
squeezing into moonlight
party lights
gin and lime-kissed
gimlet sequined dress
strutted
in studded six-inch heels
riveting flair
provoking jive and jazzy nights
to tame this lion of New York

The bed...

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Fastidious gildings must dot your mien:
Sizzling lips that ooze unbridled charm,
And a neck sleekest with angelic luster
To daze the eye and sun a smitten arm. 

Still deeper graces beyond corporeal eye
Shall your gold’s stoutest bulwarks...

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Deer do frolic: How they run and laugh and play
Birds chirp sweetly, soaring on a gentle breeze
Rabbits scoot and scamper, in their puckish way

The sunlight shoots through branches of tall trees
As clouds drift off to...

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We talk with disdain of rats that leave
a sinking ship. In truth do vermin,
ingloriously called, feel they have
to leave their homes, secret places wherein
they secured their children, in cowardice?
Rather, deep within the ship they are...

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