Long Cathedrals Poems

Poems about Poems (II)

Kin
by Michael R. Burch

for Richard Moore

1.
Shrill gulls,
how like my thoughts
you, struggling, rise
to distant bliss?
the weightless blue of skies
that are not blue
in any atmosphere,
but closest here...

2.
You seek an air
so clear,
so rarified
the effort leaves...

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"Cocoon"

They say...
a New World 
traces over the old,
leaving the unaware,
erased, far behind 

the old unaware, 
left far behind,
crawls the walls
in its web of lies
spinning suspect 
strings of silk 
in the air

glistening diamond nets
slick and sticky...

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Red light, the neon beer sign on the distant wall reflects off the long expanse of polished bar top, overpowering the quiet brown wood. It’s after lunch, only a few people in to stir the...

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from island corner, big Antrim lad
  to Belfast city, a tiny pad
  shattered windows, tilted clocks
  Goliath had lost his socks
  gargantuan giant going mad

  Armagh apple girl, any topic
...

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In the silky night, dotted with mystery,
Where the moon's thread weaves shadows on the paths,
The heart, a thin garment, a flash in the ether,
Listens as the time from the hourglass seeps away,
And its rhythm, a...

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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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May 29, 1957: …have to think about getting a thesis director…know no professor yet in the department…someone suggested i get hold of Derek Fogg for an intro to the big guns in the philosophisches Seminar…can't...

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While there is no story at all
unless it has at least two sides,
when it comes to ego's narrative lines
and epic paragraphs,
we have great difficulty in casting ourselves
as other than a one-sided protagonist story,
which others might...

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I.

The Fish Crow is an outcast amongst the seagulls
Standing on the hot Miami sand
At the end
Of our rose-colored beach towel

Nodding and blabbing half-heartedly
Nuh-uh nuh-uh
To the lack of crumbs

From us
The stingy blue collar visitors
From freezing old...

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Kindly stick to digging pineapples in the future as magic dust particles can really only spring up in defense patterns. And is it really wise to deal cards in a high tide. Deliver not an...

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Neither a fable, 
Nor a tale, 
This is a fact,
A story to tell,
To everyone, female and male.
To generations, younger and frail.

About a threat, a monster from the East,
That struck the world like a beast,
Attacked Europe...

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the grace of Paris
lingering in my thoughts. . . 
Madrid’s grimy walls

As our small group of students entered Madrid, it was an early morning in late January. We had left behind us what has been...

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Gayla Speak Experiences
promote healing events
not intended to contribute to trauma
drama narratives.

Stories we tell
and trust
and thrust
and softly smile about
when we dare to leave
our stiff 
stiffling closets.

RedYang 
universal dominants
friendly feasting
with BlueYintegral
unitarian intent

Together praising massively thick
and deeply embedded...

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I.
GRAIL OF TIDES

from the brewing storm’s steeping chalice
the breath of death’s journey awakens in quiet tides 
beckoned by the stirring whisper of mortal winds
furrowed by stoic angels in pallid temporal skies
on wings they dance with...

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Are you sitting comfortably, children?
Because it's a long tale.....
Then I shall begin.

Arthur was a Mason, which in case you hadn't known
is a man who sands and chisels, making shapes from out of stone.
From animals to...

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Hidden beauty resides not in the grace like charms
Of coy smiles 
Painted across a gentle Madonnas face.
Nor is she vested within the chastened vows
Of saintly knights; encased Great-Helm:
Thus maketh the pale maidens meek pulse
To so...

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I had a long argument today...
Whilst sitting by the 
surcharging charging airport port,
shouldertoshoulder with this pastor.

Delayed flight and low juice
kept us there, squared off;
shoulder to shoulder.

He with his Righteousness,
me with my Right View.
He with all...

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Every morning
When I glance into the mirror
I look deep inside
Deeper than my subtly-thinning hair
Deeper than my raven beard
Deeper than my mocha complexion
Laden with marks
Of life's wear and tear 
And high cheek bones
I see multitudes
From across...

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It feels easier to me
to recall and eagerly embrace
what remains sacred in humane nature
while outside
listening to surf and winds
of exterior EarthSouled nature.

It seems easier to fill our cathedrals
and capitals
with cupolas of resounding
one resonant inside voice,
but...

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What looks sexy
and aesthetically pleasing
on Society's well-endowed Page

May not feel so hot
when StraightWhite Daddy's capital-headed
economic fornication systems
lead toward Great White Father's abortion
of global green forests
and resonantly blue skies 
and sun-warmed water 
resilient EarthCare

Cosmic polarizing predations
against...

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8/9/22

What good if they judge by the color of skin
Got to do better instead of teaching that to kids
Still telling fibs
On either side of the ridge
Yet again another burned bridge
Soul cold like the temperature of...

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Back then, I’d never heard of Robinson Jeffers. My friend told us he was a famous poet and Tor House was where he lived with his family for much of his life. Definitely a stop...

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XXXXXXXXXXX
                                  ...

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...It was on the day contractions began
that Satan deigned to return to the room,
snarled at her, and said, “It’s about time.
Thankfully I can get rid of you soon.”

She could barely look at his evil eyes,
her...

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WORKSHOP POEM: GRAND TOUR TO FAIRYLAND


Sprinkled-rainbow clouds reign above the skies,
peeping yellow in-between wrinkled pillars 
shine like bulbs to crash the net of fog
attached to curve hands of green Cathedrals.

A carpet of bluebells and daffodils
covers...

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