Long Estuaries Poems

Poems about Fathers and Grandfathers III




Success
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy

We need our children to keep us humble
between toast and marmalade;

there is no time for a ticker-tape parade
before bed, no award, no bright statuette

to be delivered...

Read More

Poems about Children IV

Salat Days
by Michael R. Burch

Dedicated to the memory of my grandfather, Paul Ray Burch, Sr.

I remember how my grandfather used to pick poke salat ...
though first, usually, he’d stretch back in the...

Read More

Like Hannibal we crossed the pass and crossed 
   the Alps (okay, the Brynderwyn Hills) 
and a bridge too far on north-west passage.
   From out of the Valley of Mizpah 
to...

Read More

...and then just as suddenly, constellations appeared in a daytime sky, framed by white pines crawling with multicolored caterpillars.  So from this day forward, they would search the sky for more star pictures. They...

Read More

Translation of Eric Mottram’s KRIM: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY TO SEPTEMBER 1989 - II by T. Wignesan

( This poem is from the collection, ESTUARIES: Poems 1989-91. Twickenham: Solaris, 1992, 62p. Pub. by Yasmin and Peterjon Skelt. Back...

Read More

Time echoes and resonates without language,
invests in green triumphal backdrop
below mystic blue sky,
splattered

Blossoming in yellows and spindling purples
blues and flaming orange,
fragile moments of fully fertile fractures,
flagrant erections of next generation's hope
for full coloring 
perennially emerging...

Read More

Into The Heart Of A Soulless Existence

Damn these flies! 
There must be a half dozen of them 
Buzzing around my tiny room here, 
Buzzing and humming spasmodically, 
Like tongue-less eunuchs 
In a locked church full...

Read More

"Thelma and Leanne"



prophecies arrived
in dreams that 
washed across
the soul in waves

messages were 
found like code
hieroglyphic 
glitches

written on the walls
of electric caves
by strange poets, 
some considered witches

there, 
light and dark 
rapturously 
co-existed 

we never slept 
inside...

Read More

Translation of Eric Mottram’s KRIM: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY TO SEPTEMBER 1989 - I by T. Wignesan

( This poem is from the collection, ESTUARIES: Poems 1989-91. Twickenham: Solaris, 1992, 62p. Pub. by Yasmin and Peterjon Skelt. Back...

Read More

Time echoes and resonates without language,
invests in green triumphal backdrop,
below misty blue sky,
spotted
blossomed in yellows and spindling purples
blues and flaming orange,
fragile moments of fully fertile tone
bilateral shapes and colors,
flagrant erections of next generation's timely hope
for...

Read More

Translation of Eric Mottram’s KRIM: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY TO SEPTEMBER 1989 - III by T. Wignesan

( This poem is from the collection, ESTUARIES: Poems 1989-91. Twickenham: Solaris, 1992, 62p. Pub. by Yasmin and Peterjon Skelt. Back...

Read More

I am an unvoiced breeze~
a sea warrior 
    kite-surfing through 
    heinous waves, 
knitting cobalt chronicles 
    from smooth syllables~ 
tackling chaotic currents 
with chamomile magic...

Read More

"Timeless trust,
   trapped in Selene's pendant,
                   pulsates purity and faith 
    ...

Read More

*THE ARMAGEDDON   IN THE SOUTH*

Blessed with inestimable reservoirs 
Countless traps sealing gas yet untouched 
Seated on wealth beyond its numbers 
Wealth to sustain their  tenth generations 
Enough  to feed the glutton...

Read More

As the peacock-sage 
waves of whimsical peace
faded in silence's 
pale watercolors, 
I masked my 
eerie eyelashes, 
with drifting 
angel-mist smog. 
For, I sensed the 
wistful wailings of 
ambrosial lilies, 
encased in my 
heart's crystal casket,...

Read More

I still reminisce when it was raining incessantly at 3:55 a.m. in the nascent ticks of time on a wistful wednesday. My skin felt the spark of crying hail and maybe, the snow-storms melted too...

Read More

As the apologetic sun
melts in hibiscus vase
of pastel-peach 
horizons and peels off
those pristine pigments 
of egoistic elegance, 
sailing upon 
aquamarine foam
of vanilla waves ~
where dignity
unveils a clemency
within catharsis, 
I dare to surrender
towards the 
pink-teal blends...

Read More

“Forget the injuries, never forget kindness” ~ Confucious

 To the faceless names I’ve phased, 
forgive the silent sunsets, frozen in time, 
  and remember thin cinnamon skylines, 
how ink carved compassion, cosmically~
 when heaven...

Read More

When nylon nights
trade crystal colours 
in the stalls of nimble 
butterfly wings, 
I blossom as an 
irenic origami 
fervently fabricated 
with snowflakes of 
greedy gloom, 
stealing royal violets 
from the smokey estuaries 
flowing beneath the...

Read More

When the 
seaside sepulchre 
of a kingdom, 
without its queen, 
is smeared with 
screams of lighting, 
I wish to crackle
these slivers 
of silver shakle, 
and devour
that consoling 
taste of balsamic 
twilight, which 
drapes every 
ritual...

Read More

I was born at great heights,
For the peak of morning rays and the glacial snowy nights ,
I never listen to my parents nor their way,
And when my mother holds me I escape and melt away,
At...

Read More

Written: February 19, 2024
                  _____________________________________

Loving with a lucent locus is Lissom,
mooring a mystic's sibylline moves
as Felicity finds me,...

Read More

I see, and fear, a trumpian landscape,
usually, and more casually, outside any safe inside sanctuary.

Infrequent glances inside windstorms
and rivers of underground currents
surreptitiously culture shape
mold
transform vertically visual landscapes,
motherlands of ecotherapy above, outside
forests and deserts,
Earth's inside
farms and...

Read More

Bull eve me (Adam, whether existence
     fact or fiction),
     his immediate legion heirs whole
heartedly partook
     to regale no Joe king paternal prominence,
 ...

Read More

Song of the mystic whaler 

Come on board to play and work 
come on board to learn to sing and praise the mystic whaler 
sailing on the mighty Hudson 

Come sing the mystic whaler 
hoist...

Read More