Long Drown Poems

The Sun Is a Liar



It’s been quite some time since I've awoke early enough to meet the sun coming over the horizon. As I gazed out the window from my bedroom window seat, the sky...

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I have been trying to find the right words to pen this verse, but since I came to this country my words are suppressed and my voice is oppressed. The wind is blowing furiously, and...

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Unique: I need someone to hold me and tell
me it's alright.
I need someone to hold my hands and feel
my pain.
I need someone to kiss away my pain.
I need someone to look into my eyes and...

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Driven insane by sorrow, there’s no tomorrow to cure it…
Honestly, I’m in vain and so guilty…feeling way less than legit…
I’m holding you close in my optimism and its memories along with it
Torn apart by negative...

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Vacuum
by Michael R. Burch

Over hushed quadrants
forever landlocked in snow,
time’s senseless winds blow...

leaving odd relics of lives half-revealed,
if still mostly concealed...
such are the things we are unable to know

that once intrigued us so.

Come then, let us...

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“Éagmais croí a dhíscaoileadh ar gach eagla.
Faoi dhíon taobh istigh de na blianta seo.
Fanacht i bhfianaise, a dhíscaoileadh ar gach eagla.
Ós rud é go ndearnadh tú a chaitheamh.
Briseadh an tost seo”



"An Bee Cailleach"


She lives to...

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The Making of a Poet
by Michael R. Burch

While I don’t consider “Poetry” to be my best poem—I wrote the first version in my teens—it’s a poem that holds special meaning for me; I call it...

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State of the Art (II)

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



What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch

What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer 
~~~~underwater~~~~
watching the shoreline...

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No Mark
by Michael R. Burch

A wave implodes, 
impaled upon
impassive rocks...

this evening
the thunder of the sea
is a wild music filling my ear...

you are leaving
and the ungrieving
winds demur...

telling me
that nothing returns
as it was before...

here where you have...

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Various Heresies 4

I, Lazarus
by Michael R. Burch

I, Lazarus, without a heart,
devoid of blood and spiritless,
lay in the darkness, meritless:
my corpse?a thing cold, dead, apart.

But then I thought I heard?a Voice,
a Voice that called me from...

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Angry FireGod sneers sarcasm,
"Not warm enough yet?"
"Still too much clean water and air
and other healthy stuff,
like sun-baked red chili peppers?"

Excuse me,
I was under the impression
that I invited you for my interview,
which would involve me asking...

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Let’s say the number 1
iconically speaks in Left-Yang Universal Language,
root of ecosystemetrics,

while PlaceHolder (0)
bicamerally dreams in Right-YinDiPolar ReGenerative PolyCultural Action,
health-flow of autonomic, enthymematic thought and awareness
influenced by feelings of EarthCentric  BiCameral Consciousness
as Plan A,
so...

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~ My  Heavenly  Father  ~
( Unrhymed  Couplet )



~O~


My sweet Heavenly Father, help me to serve You better in all this day 
And with Your Holy Spirit guide me each day, as...

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[Now ShallowMan is quite content
receiving FactoidMan’s consent
to quibble and express dissent
as long as keeping covenant
with fingers crossed and belfry bent
when viewing Facts in sealed cement:]

SM
“The Facts you give me circumvent
those ‘truths’ your chuckles supplement;
although they...

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Sonnets X-XVI


Archaischer Torso Apollos (“Archaic Torso of Apollo”)
by Rainer Maria Rilke
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We cannot know the beheaded god
nor his eyes' forfeited visions. But still
the figure's trunk glows with the strange vitality
of a...

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*warning* disturbing lines have been detected - you have been warned, readers. Okay, enjoy this somewhat deep and astounding poem from me that took days to write...>:)

I bet you anything that I'm the laziest guy...

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I will not apologize for wearing 
wires pregnant for the Fbi buying 
weapons and drugs from corruption 
and taking down gang leaders who 
migrated to Wisconsin under queen 
pin cocaine heroin hard drugs 
manufacturer Mexican...

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it feels good to escape
with authors and poets
and dream up new places
with tales that are spun

but sometimes what's real
and sometimes what isn't
encroach on each other
and read just as one

such are the worlds
of rhyme but no...

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“le livre bleu” 

Terabytes.
lonely poets, writers, 
musicians and artists play here,
they wear masks that cover
vermillion dripping smiles
over sharp little wolverine teeth,
they drown their sorrows in their muses -
contemporary little monsters – Still Life, 
they call...

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The weight of the water is heavy in my chest, a force pressing against the ribs. It rises when I don’t expect it, like a flood breaking through cracked, neglected seams. The truck of my...

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Prose Poems

Something
by Michael R. Burch

Something inescapable is lost?lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars immeasurable and void. Something uncapturable is...

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I went again today ... to that place, the allurement overwhelming ... the one
we called "ours" so tritely, "mine" before you, "mine" again now, (tho' others
have doubtless staked claimed - ages before and since). I...

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THREATENING CALLS MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND HIS MISTRESS JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY JAMAICAN DEALERS IN TAMPA I REPORTED THIS MADNESS TO THE FBI I HAD NO IDEA HOW FAR THIS WOULD GO MANIPULATION FEAR TO...

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She was always so insecure, as far back as I can remember she never realized her true worth, she let people use her, and never cared about getting hurt
If everyone else was happy and smiling,...

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MODERN SONNETS II

I prefer the original definition of the sonnet as a “little song” of indeterminate form and length. These modern sonnets vary from more-or-less traditional to free verse.



In Praise of Meter
by Michael R. Burch

The...

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