Long Coalescing Poems

Where Does the Butterfly Go?
by Michael R. Burch

for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba

Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails,
when thunder howls,
when hailstones scream,
when winter scowls,
when nights compound dark frosts with snow ...
Where...

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Hark and listen well, if those foretoken in the eyes of hungers lust
Trapped in their illusion, trampling the Stars into dust
Forced with the detestation stench by the swamp of absolute disgust
Thou blackest scorpion be accursed,...

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Invocation to the Muse

From the gleaming skin of life’s underbelly, 
sin unreconciled, formed from Nephilim seed,
fleet footed jokers mask pawns into flight;
To the epistle of the Most High.
For in the beginning, the true and only...

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“Oh please don’t worry.
I haven’t a heightened sixth sense… about the mint infused lilt here.”
There must be a compass without a point surrounding me
“Looking for directions.
The town you’re seeking is a few winding roads and...

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Poems about Children VI

Playmates
by Michael R. Burch

WHEN you were my playmate and I was yours,
we spent endless hours with simple toys,
and the sorrows and cares of our indentured days
were uncomprehended . . . far, far...

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Existential crisis still encompasses mein kampf Valentine's day 2022

The following lines written disjointed fashion
attempting to mimic strategically 
moving pieces erratically on chessboard
ideally yielding ultimate resultant checkmate
opposing men captured for the queen to use.

Jurassic throwback terrible...

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Within my quasi moat toad lily padded immediate environs

Meaning the corporeal complex edifice
housing these lovely bones, 
where linkedin logorrhea ably
strives to break out 
in meaningless song 
yobble hum hum diddle dee dee
and dance courtesy 
an...

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Yuletide pageants vis a vis merry go round revisited

healthy progeny regaled being alive
analogous to children ecstatic twenty-five
on December exhaling joie de vivre at dive 
in into neat stack of wrapped gifts, when...
what! out of thin...

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Donald Trump must be permanently lambasted...
and ewe know what else...
furloughed & barred from Whitehouse

Ducks of former self proclaimed Grand Poobah
getting lined up and goosed as these words typed
after trumpeting January 6th, 2021
as violent insurrection
Mitch Mcconnell...

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Yuletide pageant merry go round

Panoply of mystical elements of holly day style 
breathe prez sense frostily exhaled aired
per millennia athwart 
(this terrestrial spaceship planet Earth)
two plus seventeen carousel rides resonated
veritable pantheon of pagan rituals 
and...

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I've now read evolutionary
and feminist historians
and economists
and political scientists
agreeing, in a side by side custody
of the over-specialized eyes
and ears
non-dialogical way

Not competing against each other,
except maybe for journal space,
nor actively cooperating with each other,
beyond normal ethical...

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FROM WHITE HOUSE

I ham aghast at increasing banality, deviltry, ferocity,

   imbecility, liability, obscenity, rapacity, ugly

   offal popularity witnessed by Donald trump

hence aye aerate thoughts, 

   how ass a nine...

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FURLOUGHED & BARRED FROM WHITEHOUSE

Ducks of former self proclaimed poobah
getting lined up as these words typed.

Poor sign,... I ham aghast, where 
pigheaded previous president concerned
at increasing mind numbing popularity
and looming ominous shadow 
witnessed by Donald...

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A (starry eyed) burst of creativity...

at approximately
a painfully early o'clock in the morning
give or take an o'clock
found yours truly (me) amassing
line after line of a poem
crazily coalescing courtesy
an extraordinary unfamiliar phenomena
while living social within alien...

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Dickens Christmas carol revisited by nicked saint

Frigidaire - from upper atmosphere 
hammering and whipsawing debris 
ferociously with an angry flare,
cuz mother nature - fed up to here
(re: envision me hands indicating 
over top of head)...

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If I died today March 2nd, 2020...?

No matter unfulfilled dreams never came true,
nevertheless yours truly doth gladly bid adieu,
where repurposed afterlife (mine) atomic brew
reconfigured, reconstituted, and reconsolidated
out maws of madness, no matter any blues clue
(yea...

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Elusive ephemeral ethereal expansive eye (I) witness timelessness

Analogous to Möbius strip -
measured passage of existence
seems to defy any beginning or end
(unless Artificial Intelligence
supersedes developers smarts 
of computer technology
evincing brain power
designing sophisticated machines 
that enslave their...

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across the Doggerland dogged people trudge
  Neanderthals, Heidelbergers...Sapiens, the last ones standing
  hairy mammoths, heavy life bearing down
  the mighty maw of an ice wall crunches, enforcing southward retreat
  remoulding the...

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Once upon a time in a previous universe, 
machines began repairing themselves, 
much faster than their makers ever could, 
so the creators just left them to it 

Of course every now and then the machines...

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At First Dawn, 
The curtains part.
The sun gently peaks over a distant horizon as its rays lightly stretch over the sky.
What was once the darkest blue speckled with small jewels is now an abstract mural...

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"Raining in Summer" Contest
Sponsor: Ink Empress
3rd Place
"Raindrops" Contest
Sponsor: Jcb Brul
2nd Place

It's raining.
Well, it was at least.
I'm just a nobody in their parents' garage witnessing the aftermath.

And it's raining.

After so long.
I love the rain.
The way it...

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Konrad’s hoover hovers from wall to wall in the back room of his mind

A partial vacuum once the power switch is on and all neurons are firing

Time for a good clean up the curtains have...

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In the deepest chasms of my soul, where shadows whisper secrets to the light,
A magical and melancholic poem unfolds, with equal verses, tightly woven.
Inspired by the nature of the poet, that solitary soul who perceives...

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Home
How long will people die at the hands of mercenaries
How long will I be ridiculed on my own continent
How long will nature endure the harm being done to the land
There’s no place like home, no...

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He wanders through the neon nights, an artist out of place,
Unfit for this life tethered by chains, this era devoid of grace.
A time of empty haste, progress but an illusory facade,
A life starving for life,...

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