Long Chaperones Poems

State of the Art (IV)

These are my "ars poetica" poems about the art and craft of writing poetry. 



Hearthside
by Michael R. Burch

“When you are old and grey and full of sleep...”  — W. ...

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To a Daughter More Precious than Gems
by Otomo no Sakanoue no Iratsume
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Heaven's cold dew has fallen—
and thus another season arrives.
Oh, my child living so far away,
do you pine for me...

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there, among those Ruby Spires
          stood I, a-gazing toward the mist
               red...

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One day—
The sea will be my backyard
Every morning, standing upon the deck
Of the one called Going Numb
A “Greatest Dad” mug in one hand
My last vice burning orange in the other

I will watch the sun rise...

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            As emotion's embolism petitions
a mirror sea for endless blue transparency-
through oculat lens flare, an albionic estuary 
garden variety of pleasures appears, obligatiry-
in full...

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With spacetime ripples
come dark energy waves
Emanating from the ether
tainted forces hold me slave
What sort of person
fly’s kites after dark
One with many issues
hiding Cains invisible mark

Left to wander miasma
blind man at controls
Free will is human delusion
We’re...

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Are you ready?
Picture eighty-seven children, practicing for a Christmas show
in a sales barn that does not have heat or a sound system.

A skunk died somewhere in here a few hours ago.
Many are screaming.
Some are crying.

Many...

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Hearthside: an Imagined Sequel to "When You Are Old"
by Michael R. Burch

“When you are old and grey and full of sleep...” ? W. B. Yeats

For all that we professed of love, we knew
this night would...

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March 1980
An insistent internal voice told me take a library book back
I had just sat down after bathing three little girls
I was exhausted
The voice would not leave me alone
I finally asked my husband to take...

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Mommy, Jim, Bob, and the guys are going to climb Ole Rocky Ridge.
Can I go too, Huh, please can I go. Please, pretty please!
No, you can’t go. You know a boy was badly hurt up...

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I flew over a vastness of sand,
ancient ocean withdrawn,
dessicated desert,
neither eternal nor pathetic,
snow dusted, the foot of the Hindu Kush,
even now,
as we humans,
such knotted desperate pieces of work,
loving disorder,
our root cause of violence,
livid hatred for...

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this place, such a reprieve
I am held without speech--
heaven's clouds Float aloft
like white Foam Froth atop
Fresh morning cappuccino

my chamber, allows comfort
obstructions lifted like air--
open Windows brush inside  
Wondrous Whispers of life
the breath of a...

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The Senior Prom was the social event of the school year!
I approached the occasion with great humility and fear.
Never knowing if I could get a date caused me apprehension,
But finding someone to go greatly eased...

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It was a Friday,
and I was excited
about the High School Dance that night.

I wore a yellow chiffon dress up to my knees
with black Patton leather pumps.

Students stood, jumping, and dancing wall-to-wall.
Partners were no longer needed...

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A two-tone case of blue and white
                            ...

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Christmas meant a party
At the company club.
It was fun guessing whose dad 
Would dress up as Santa Claus.

As we gathered, the carols played
And one by one, chaperones led
Unwilling boys to blushful girls
We had to dance,...

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Christmas meant a party
At the company club.
It was fun guessing whose dad 
Would dress up as Santa Claus.

As we gathered, the carols played
And one by one, chaperones led
Unwilling boys to blushful girls
We had to dance,...

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Poetry in motion 
Take me out … the ballgame
bats and balls a'soaring
Root, toot, toot … the home team
'round the bases scoring.

Poetry in motion
Daddy and daughter dance
…hard to give her away
Wedding music magic
Dad won’t stand in...

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The rig rolled through Laredo 
On the road to San Antone,
Its eighteen wheels of commerce
Headed north from parts unknown.
The shipping costs all paid to
Their coyote chaperones.
					
The plan was clear in concept,
But the method imprecise.
If not...

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