Long Burial mound Poems

Enough Angelina, drop the bouquet of harebells.  
The flowers wilt as your graying hands stiffen. See, how grave
is our newborn son. We gift him a black crêpe layette.
Say Darling Edward, say, Golubushka, make me...

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Dear God!
by Taras Shevchenko
translation by Michael R. Burch

Dear God, disaster again!
Life was once calm, serene...
But as soon as we began to break the chains
Of bondage that enslaved us,
The whip cracked! The serfs' blood flew!
Now, like...

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"I have been a stranger in a strange land."  Bible, Exodus 2:22

[X]X[X]  *  X[X]X  *  [X]X[X]  *  X[X]X  *  [X]X[X]

Hungry eyes seek substance, food matters naught--
sees...

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It would be a disaster!
What would?
The defacing of the burial stones. 
Who am I communing with?
The council.
Ahh, that's not as mysterious as I'd hoped.

I might not have gone into the burial mound. I certainly didn't...

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In the winter of 1873, Alfred Packer was hired to guide a prospectin' trek.
In the San Juans of Colorady they'd heard of gold that they wanted to check.
Alfred claimed that in Colorady minin' camps he'd...

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Mossy vines served as camouflage for a decaying headstone.
The inscription is illegible, but that matters not to me.
At this centuries-old grave I place flowers and moonstone --
As requested by my ethereal savior, friend, lover, devotee.

My...

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The air hung swimming with dust motes,
throbbing with heat, wringing the sweat form our pores.
We walked forward through the soup of ages
over trampled grass marked by the passage of buck and doe.

The mounds rose above...

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The cold wet earth clings to my boots
The scent of wet soil draws memories
Visions of the past , scenes from my boyhood
Flicker in my thoughts.
Buds of sweat drips their cold journey down my spine
As I...

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Standing hoeing garden stones
Eyes awash with tears
As memories flood back from
More than sixty years,
To the little village churchyard
For which my dad cared
And which duty I, as a child,
So very unwillingly shared.

He dug the graves, cut...

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The Spectre of sex appeal by Salvador Dali 1934
On the right-hand bottom side, we see Dalí as a 
child, dressed as a sailor, observing his monstrosity

I misunderstand, tell what is the plan
As I change from...

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Death Penalty


Sonny Johnson’s home was on the street
   Sharing space with rats who nibbled at his feet
Until he moved his blanket to the county jail
   ‘Cause someone said he stabbed a...

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My father worked the land with
Both horse and tractor plough.
That family way of life is past,
We  are all city dwellers now.
My father and mother dead
My brother followed them on
I’m the last of that generation
And...

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I’ve shared all my love far past what I see
Expression and my hope, far past expectancy
All of my beliefs, container of my soul
Everything that is me is far past what I’ve told

Help me, I’m doubting...

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One of four acorns waits in the hatcher;
is he afraid of the cold air outside?
Others around him make gains in stature
while he shows strong signs of wanting to hide.
He almost peeked out but quickly broke...

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Everything fades away
softly or harshly glowing,
growing smaller,
end of cycle 
already written
in the fabric. 

None

to escape the thrill
and fascination, 
all the pain 
to dry in the sun
 'til hard and withered 
we lay down
to feed the...

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The bard had just penned a ballad profound
and stroking his beard, this clumsy word-hound
just spilled his last beer on pages unbound.
A marvelous monorhyme sits uncrowned. 

Deluged under streams of thoughts that still hound,
I venture to...

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Another day's sun
Lights the carpet of the earth
Where an evil that is done
Waits suspended in the dirt.

Unfortunately, the aura
That was fashioned from his life
Cannot be changed to flora
Like the flesh that now pulls tight.

He butchered...

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Weasel was wiser than a coonhound
She weighed one pound, a foxhound
Traveled the campground and playground
Searched the fairground and all around
A sleuthhound, she would turnaround
Looking earthbound for something profound
On the rebound, her heart would confound
In the...

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Cold and rippling diamonds passed
the brook beneath the willow tree
These jewels they trickled through our hands
then a million times a million we

Our voices long since faded away
now left these sullen stony lands
The mournful ghosts of...

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A soil well rested after winter`s sleep of death
Waiting anxiously to receive life`s new breath
Seeds of potentiality sown, laboriously planted 
Not knowing whether fruits to them will be granted

Blind, creative forces of nature flood the...

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I hear voices and see faces
Of warriors who died in faraway places.
Some gave their all, all gave their best.
When they were judged, all passed the test.

As I sit here alone on this bench by the...

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