Long Escaping Poems

“I am NOT like my father!!!
You say that again, I’m going to kill you!”

I shrivel up in shame
For, I am not to blame
For the shenanigans you put me through so many times
Sometimes, I wish I...

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"Who Put Luebella down the Wych Elm?"

There are rumours
about me, some 
come seeking me
with their geiger counters
and ouji boards
with their heart 
shaped planchettes

unanswered questions
in the woods, crackling
within the sounds of leaves
invisible dead things speaking 
underfoot...

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Currents
by Michael R. Burch

How can I write and not be true
to the rhythm that wells within?
How can the ocean not be blue,
not buck with the clapboard slap of tide,
the clockwork shock of wave on rock,
the...

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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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State of the Art (IV)

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



Hearthside
by Michael R. Burch

“When you are old and grey and full of sleep...”  — W. ...

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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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Southern Icarus
by Michael R. Burch

Windborne, lover of heights,
unspooled from the truck’s wildly lurching embrace,
you climb, skittish kite...

What do you know of the world’s despair,
gliding in vast solitariness there,
so that all that remains is to
fall?

Only a...

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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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Every year In Robin Hood Country Nottingham
There in October, they hold. What is known, as the Goose Fair. It's huge. and goes back centuries, straining the Middle Ages, perhaps even longer.
My pals and I back...

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"Sentenced to hang in the town of Lincoln,
Billy made his bold escape.
Both of his guards died from thinking,
that a shackled young boy couldn't break away."

I've often wondered what thoughts were going through his head
as he...

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"Sentenced to hang in the town of Lincoln,
Billy made his bold escape.
Both of his guards died from thinking,
that a shackled young boy couldn't break away."

I've often wondered what thoughts were going through his head
as he...

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~  God's  Love Brings Light ~ 
(White Light  ) 


~O~


God's
Love brings Light
And His Light is bright
With God there's never darkness
Go to Him and He gives me Hope, Peace
I smile
I put God first
Best...

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I sung all the night with the Devil,
It seemed harmony had found itself spooning with dissonance
Not indeed needing to be one or the same
Yes—the light indeed could sustain itself in the midst
Of what then was...

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Vampire Poetry

Pale Though Her Eyes
by Michael R. Burch
 
Pale though her eyes,
her lips are scarlet
from drinking of blood,
this child, this harlot
 
born of the night
and her heart, of darkness,
evil incarnate
to dance so reckless,
 
dreaming of...

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~ Let  Love  Live ~
 ( Candle Of Hope)



Let
Love Hope
Peace fill heart
As  walk  with  Lord
In Him find  best friend
May heart rejoice
Love the Lord
Worship
Him

Let your heart sing Him songs
With His...

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Vampires
by Michael R. Burch

Vampires are such fragile creatures;
we fear the dark, but the light destroys them...
sunlight, or a stake, or a cross—such common things.
Still, late at night, when the bat-like vampire sings,
we heed his voice.

Centuries...

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What Kind of People Are We

In a Shakespearean sense of tragedy and doubt the well-used
“To Be or Not To Be” from Hamlet is not the question I shall
discuss in this narrative. Rather, I shall consider...

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THE DESERT THE WILDERNESS THE STORM

I am parched, my back is arched, 
my body racked with pain,
Nothing green in sight, 
my thirst, my plight, 
eyes playing tricks on me again. 

An illusion of rest beside...

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World War II Poems and Holocaust Poems II - Bertolt Brecht



The Burning of the Books
by Bertolt Brecht
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

When the Regime
commanded the unlawful books to be burned, 
teams of dull oxen hauled...

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Immortal Al, the poet. 
Yes, and don’t he know it 
And forget me not, his imaginary friend, Mortal Lee, that’s me! 
He has a Masters in Authorship. Me, his penmanship. 
He’s not just any or...

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I thought of writing about another High School Social Studies book report. This is an intriguing piece riddled with a complicated set of circumstances. I chose to write it as a short story as it...

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This is an unfinished Heroic Crown of Sonnets dedicated to a friend's grandchild who was born with serious lower body issues 3 years ago...but he is so perfect and beautiful in every other way that...

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I knew that  I had to go somewhere but I did not know where 
I knew I had to go somewhere that was not  very far from here
So I  put on my...

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Embrace The Lines

Vitality marks gently stretch your soft skin beyond the wildest dreams of
beauty unbound where children had once or thrice embraced your womb
the soothing waters cushioning and cradling three miracles three water 
marks engraved...

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My dreams were of the dire Queen
I had allowed her reign over me, callousing my heart,
She was inside me, laughing
Having crawled in
My walls closing, as she filled my soul
We were one, yes for a time,...

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