Long Crone Poems

Once,
or twice, 
maybe thrice,
surely not
not fractal

A clan of crazy ecofeminists
conspired within an 88 unit residential castle
in their historically converted 
sometimes hysterically clueless condo
colonial-red predative brick 
badly bald aging building

With a sometimes soggy south walled school,
but...

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Dream-worker 
delves deeply into my dream;

vibrations fondle anticipation
foreplay wakes wide-eyed 
swells of liquid libido quake the rendezvous edge -
a primordial being in his prime
a masculine ego quest for affaire d’amour;
her night-loving body 
c h a...

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The Pictish Faeries
by Michael R. Burch

Smaller and darker
than their closest kin,
the faeries learned only too well
never to dwell
close to the villages of larger men. 

Only to dance in the starlight
when the moon was full
and men...

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No One
by Michael R. Burch

No One hears the bells tonight;
they tell him something isn’t right.
But No One is not one to rush;
he lies in grasses greenly lush
as far away a startled thrush
flees from horned owls...

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When you and your wife visited,
you shared a question asked by a pastor
of a raped
and thereby pregnant
vulnerably young and questioning parishioner.

"If your unborn child survived
his first year
and walked back into your home
do you think you...

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I haint donning royal carpet treatment

No stuntman/woman showed up, 
albeit intervened in timely fashion
to thwart mishaps experienced 
courtesy me I bemoan,
and poet lore re: yet of Perkiomen Valley
Pennsylvania, United States of America
never suffered major illness...

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These secret silent stillnessess,
wistful wispy whisperings
which enter through the windows in my heart,
I try to softly touch them 
and they recede, far, so far away,
I try to gently hold them
they slip beyond my grasp,
and so,...

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Shards of glass cover the floor, 
all bloodied and disarrayed,
The night of terror exposed to us all, 
the town came out and prayed.
For the ten were gone, yet none be found,
people were completely dismayed.

On a...

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Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers, 
picking pennies from the gutters 
as the merchants close their shutters 
and the homeless crouch in doorways 
in their rags, against the cold. 
Black or white, no compromise,...

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III.
Lost in a daze, but her fingers still shaking,
Liesel turned the great brass knob on the door.
She felt herself tense, was ready to shriek,
Expecting to see some Satanic horror.

Instead she found herself looking into
A cozy...

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Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers, 
picking pennies from the gutters 
as the merchants close their shutters 
and the homeless crouch in doorways 
in their rags, against the cold. 
Black or white, no compromise,...

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I.
It was in 1554
that young Liesel watched her little nice die,
a fever had swept through Bavaria,
and from her tiny frame all life did fly.

She wasn’t the first, many died that year,
but at the funeral for...

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When a woman I yearned for would not return my emotion,
I consulted a witch for a magic love potion.
She said there was an elixir that would suit my request,
Time-consuming to make, but was by far...

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Poet who exhibits panache - meant...

to tickle your fancy dear reader rabbit,
perchance European G-man double agent
regarding the following poem
with kick a$$, je ne sais quois
ingenious, humorous bent
even though reasonable rhyme
mebbe worth no mo' than ten...

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A warning breeze bore tale of a familiar and fiery rage;
in the dread of night, a crone hobbled, accursed of her age  
by smoldering orange glow, she took to an ancient black tome 
raptly...

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Through the long gone years, I have much grown…
From a young schoolboy to a present day aging crone…

But in my mind, I am as I have always been…
All through the years and after all that...

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The crone can hear the children's laughter, cold as ice
And they exclaim out "witch", not thinking she can hear
Their parents then admonish, "Try to be quite nice."
Upon her thin, emaciated form they leer
Of love forbidden...

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Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers,
picking pennies from the gutters
as the merchants close their shutters
and the homeless crouch in doorways
in their rags, against the cold.
Black or white, no compromise,
no colours clothe the empty streets,
as...

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II.
Liesel spent months worrying about this,
about dark minions and young souls that hurt,
she even started fearing for herself
for questioning the teachings of the church.

She did not want to damn herself to Hell,
but she couldn’t believe...

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Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers, 
picking pennies from the gutters 
as the merchants close their shutters 
and the homeless crouch in doorways 
in their rags, against the cold. 
Black or white, no compromise,...

Read More

Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers, 
picking pennies from the gutters 
as the merchants close their shutters 
and the homeless crouch in doorways 
in their rags, against the cold. 
Black or white, no compromise,...

Read More

Anchors Aweigh...

destination unknown
for this Earthling
stardate: February 26th, 2022

At sea since time immemorial
I relish being alone
upon oceanic expanse
yours truly doth bemoan
me gal Sal (one among
numerous female confidantes),
no matter, she easily
mistaken as a crone
magical powers keep
her manning...

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Folie à deux
("shared madness," or "madness for two").

I suffer in silence, though not alone
kvetching old curmudgeon (me)
(once upon a time, a promising
long haired pencil necked geek)
buzzfeeding off life's miniseries
of unedited miseries in tandem

with ideal counterpart...

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Sisyphus had Syphilis which had traveled  to his brain

                    a man of pleasure once but...

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I am a happy old Crone. 

Old Age, the bane and angst of Youth, is upon me. 

Again.

It is the 'again' part that makes me happy. Why should I fear it?

I know what is to...

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