Long Cumbrous Poems

POEMS ABOUT SCIENCE 4: BIRTH/EVOLUTION

Simultaneous Flight
by Michael R. Burch

*The number of possible connections [brain] cells can make exceeds the number of particles in the universe. — Gerald Edelman, 1972 Nobel Prize winner for physiology and...

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POEMS ABOUT SCIENCE 6: EVOLUTION

Singularity
by Michael R. Burch

Are scientists confounded like the ostrich?
Heads buried in the sand, they shout, *Preposterous!*
This universe, so magical, they say,
proves there’s no God. But let’s look anyway ...

He said, *Let...

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Another day spent  
in my throbbing head. 
This day, a tightening noose, 
a smothering sheath of  
white, sterile gauze 
once loose.  
Moments I dread 
are swirling around  
in my head. 
(I...

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Tunneling deep into the eyes of one another
A channeling of a mutual respect and despotic hatred
High above nearly visible a clash between the two
Exploding in a power of light as the two blades clash
Blood dripping...

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In Memoriam of brave, lost souls during the First World War

Our insides churn, nostrils flare, with the pungent stench,
Order given to leave our sanctuary and trench.
Battle cry, whistle blown and up and over we go;
Standing...

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Written: June 26, 2023
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The morning's rising sun looms above the hills.
My breath catches in my throat and fulfills.
Warblers are an attractive bonus to the garden.
Their delicate melodies offer a lovely lyrical pardon. 

The oak vine is...

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I feel a butterfly inside;
its wings are cramped within my breast.
The weight of flesh, o dull cocoon,
prohibits my free flight. At best
I only soar inside; my wings--
gossamer, light, remain untried.
I wait...I wait...until the day
the barred'...

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I draw into the artificial womb
and travel from the day upon my breath 
until dimension fades, a silent shift
occurs, and there is no more self to pad
the absolute,  yet from the depth emerge
the wonders...

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It comes as something of surprise.
We need the broken figurines.
the malice we expressed,
the heart forever bound in cords
constricting its magnificence.
It seems
the pure, transcendant, holy orb
that shines above the saints
cannot be dealt with quite so well
as...

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Harbingers of Hollow 


In my habitual haunting hysteria
I digress to an abandoned area
Voids of dimming dissolving glow
The hermetic harbingers of hollow

Landscapes of secluded shadow
In cathedrals of cacophony grow
A salient soul spiritually spiraled
Within perpetual rags apparelled

My...

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SONNET FOR A WINDY DAY 

‘cross cirrus sky swift brush strokes paint mares' tails
O'er restless tree tops’ anxious susurration,
The cumbrous clouds traverse in vaporous trails
Below, grasses are fanned - wild undulation

Lake surface whipped to agitated...

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SONNET FOR WINDS OF CHANGE

Cross cirrus sky swift brush strokes paint mares' tails
Tree tops are in restless susurration,
While cumbrous clouds traverse in vapour trails
Mead grass is fanned in wild undulation

Lake face whipped to agitated motion
Plumes...

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Whoever claimed sorrow be blue 
and crimson - rage would be 
are not aware the darkened hues 
that dwell inside of me 

Sad - I'd paint in shades of gray 
Ash scattered to the sea...

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Whoever claimed sorrow be blue 
and crimson - rage would be 
are not aware the darkened hues 
that dwell inside of me 

Sad - I'd paint in shades of gray 
Ash scattered to the sea...

Read More