Long Colder Poems

State of the Art (III)

These are my "ars poetica" poems: the ones about the art and craft of writing poetry in a modern world that doesn't always recognize the artists or their work. 



Come Down
by...

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Various Heresies 3

Breakings
by Michael R. Burch

I did it out of pity.
I did it out of love.
I did it not to break the heart of a tender, wounded dove.

But gods without compassion
ordained: Frail things must break!
Now...

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Poems about Poems VI

The Board
by Michael R. Burch

Accessible rhyme is never good.
The penalty is understood?
soft titters from dark board rooms where
the businessmen paste on their hair
and, Walter Mitties, woo the Muse
with reprimands of Dr. Seuss.

The...

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Snapshots
by Michael R. Burch

Here I scrawl extravagant rainbows.
And there you go, skipping your way to school.
And here we are, drifting apart
like untethered balloons.

Here I am, creating "art,"
chanting in shadows,
pale as the crinoline moon,
ignoring your face.

There...

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The angles are in the storm
Just before  the break of dawn
Sending a message to everyone
Telling them to remain calm
The angels are singing out loud
They want to break the treacherous cloud
 and relinquish that awful...

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Part 1: FORE SIBERIAN FATE

silk wings wet -
angel on the lake.
starlight glitter
separates from

the golden wheat.
her docile hair,
prophecy of ice.

winter pink,
pinched cheeks.
ice skate scrapes -
flecks of flakes.

the snow queen
before her relentless
reign, a pretty thing.

her smile warms
the...

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Doggerel II: Doggerel about Doggerel, or, More Nonsense Verse

The Board
by Michael R. Burch

Accessible rhyme is never good.
The penalty is understood:
soft titters from dark board rooms where
the businessmen paste on their hair
and, Walter Mitties, woo the...

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Sonnets XC-XCVII

Artificial Smile
by Michael R. Burch

I’m waiting for my artificial teeth
to stretch belief, to hollow out the cob
of zealous righteousness, to grasp life’s stub
between clenched molars, and yank out the grief.

Mine must be art-official?zenlike Art?
a...

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Skin of Terror
- Daniel Henry Rodgers

(The stage lights come up slowly on Michael's face, which is crisscrossed with wrinkles from his fuming anxiety. He peers out into the gloominess at the wheel and tightly clutches...

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I wanted to write
 The best slavery poem   ever written—
Perhaps win a Pulitzer or Faulkner. 

I had every intention of conforming 
To the standards 
Of modern verse and composition, 
Lyrics fluidly written, 
Perfect...

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The Alaskan Oil Pipeline

Nineteen sixty-eight confirmed the year
Of discovery by ‘Humble Oil’
To North America’s largest oil field,
On the North Slope of the Brooks Range;
A west to east Northern Alaskan mountain chain.
An area forty miles wide...

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(continued from A Year Of Months (January-June)
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/heroic_crown_of_sonnets_-_part_one_772928


A Year Of Months (July-December)

8. July

July now follows summer's song of June;
with sun ablaze, her days are humid, warm.
Great time to languish in the afternoon,
and later, watch an evening...

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These 2 different versions are separated by nine years

Part 1

MUST BE SPRING

Small speckles of wild grass 
Looking like tiny green drops 
That had fallen to the earth 
Were the very first sign 

Waving in the...

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In the bottom of the ocean
Is where my heart lies
Abide by my side, my devotion 
Is lost in the crowd of gals and guys 
Don't make me wait my turn to receive rationality 
Don't make...

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Brave Shadow Mane


Falling free at a tremendous velocity
Cursing my decision for acting in haste
Through clouds and frozen rain I could not see the ground
Losing consciousness, in my mouth blood I could taste

Now this was indeed...

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Do you know what it feels like when your dad leaves to go get the milk and comes back with a gun and some vengeance?
No? Well me neither.
See look, being funny is hard.
Some people don’t...

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Give me a pleasant, 
Elevating and 
Elegant embrace
Times like these are Grim 

Believe in Him
Don’t give up on them –
The people you hang out with
So much fun, I can clearly see actually, 
Time and time...

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I suppose
cannibalism
is the logical conclusion
of rabidly overpopulated fascism.

Some cannibals,
perhaps all,
ate their human prey
not for typical nutritional reasons
like other forms of digested nature,
but more specifically
because those dining
hoped their prey's sacred powers
would thereby become their own,
conjoining for...

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The Library of Trust and Hope
The Bank of Trust and Hope

(Cant decide on title, so feel free to pick or suggest one)

She was all but four years of age
Birthdays were such magical moments
The cake was...

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What is a life to you?
Do you wake up to love
imagine a future with someone?
A wife or a husband,
a child or ten?
An exaggeration,
but love is different to everyone.
Do you have a cat or a dog,
that...

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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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Bruh, I know your up but it’s getting late
I got to make peace with you
Hommie I have bitten off more then I could chew
I’m sweating from the new day’s sun
now I know your in for...

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Product of Dave the Brave

Product of Peace
Product of Poverty
Product of Happy
Product of Charity 
P-Product of crazy...weightless envy...bipolar blues...etc. etc.

Product of selfish ambition ...
A shameful sin in disguise 
Turning my cheek to this decision
Discussion goes beyond...

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Memoirs of one unloved

I hear them refer to me as “it” or “the fetus”
Some underdeveloped miniature human, with no established status
For I am trapped in some fluid, apparently I know nothing
But, as strange as it...

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Like a Phoenix, I rise up from the ashes of my past 
Your beautiful tune mended the Earth with exquisite mirth 
Like a runner, I'm running forward to the finish line oh so fast 
You're...

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