Long Evasive Poems

“Frequency” 

we are separated 
from the others
by a thin membrane

electromagnetic

we are receptors
unignited ununited
only tuned into our own

frequency

existing to be lit
the fuses touching
reaching delicately 

that which we do 
and do not see, 
believe

answers embedded
in tablets read...

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Completing the Pattern
by Michael R. Burch

Walk with me now, among the transfixed dead
who kept life’s compact and who thus endure
harsh sentence here?among pink-petaled beds
and manicured green lawns. The sky’s azure,
pale blue once like their eyes,...

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Know Thyself
(one of the two Delphic commands of Apollo)



For years before the narrow windows of my senses
                  ...

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For years before the narrow windows of my senses
                          ...

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Love has a Southern flavor: honeydew,
ripe cantaloupe, the honeysuckle’s spout
we tilt to basking faces to breathe out
the ordinary, and inhale perfume ...

Love’s Dixieland-rambunctious: tangled vines,
wild clematis, the gold-brocaded leaves
that will not keep their order in...

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Translation of Eric Mottram’s A Faithful Private 7 with excerpts from “Notes on Poetics” by T. Wignesan

(Note: With this post, I bring to a close EM’s pamphlet collection: Faithful Private, GENERA editions by Colin Simms,...

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1. A constant smile is the alabaster
for struggle’s ornaments be made faster
average looks with a smile can be labial
its absence points to problems so filial,
may not keep the wolf away from the door
or deliver salvation...

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Those rarer men I once fondly 
knew...                            ...

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Talismanic mystical duties of an aardvark is best performed upon a desert landscape or in a dense jungle for it is merely in these two places that wild fauna can be located and ancient brands...

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Thank god I finally was caught and cited
for doing something that I didn't do.

Just think how much worse I would feel
if I actually had done it,
as I have done so many stupid thoughtless things
without getting...

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Brackish-gurgling days that
Unobtrusively slid along
Past tussock grass and curled up 
Balls of Fern...
Glued tightly onto structured vanes
Of outstretched frond.
Venerable Mosses reciting epic tales,
Measured throughout Metronomical 
Strains,
Chanting methodically in harmonious
Downturn - 
Wherein contained: 
Foreboding dialects delivered...

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The ladder is cold steel and past its days, dulled to a natural grey
Yet its rungs still stand strong, stretched over the battered frame
See over time, a ravished age, the world has grasped the ladders...

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A thick, white smog crept through the park that night,
that one color besides black.
Occasionally, street lamps would beam around like wheels
but the lights burned strangely dim.
 
"Let's shoot the breeze, " he said. And so...

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Death...death...like a cold, distant fog
it looms over these beings
these frail human beings, myself included
attacking their defenseless, quarrelsome - filled minds
like ravenous carnivores sprinting upon their prey
I've counted three, thrice has death sent for the reaper
to...

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Talismanic mystical duties of an aardvark is best performed upon a desert landscape or in a dense jungle for it is merely in these two places that wild fauna can be located and ancient brands...

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"Purple Heart"



We are watched
surrounded by 
a great cloud 
of witnesses
the race marked
out for us
our days 
we count 
as numbers 
hidden within 
our flimsy armour
our transgressions
softened peccadilloes
we are ignorant
of most wisdom 
it is unseen, 
we continue...

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Some place somewhere,in nowhere
Oh! come dearly wind,come to the place and everywhere
Were it not bad of you to bend and bypass us in your haste
Eternal it would be-had love been bethrothe'
To the valley,slummed with valour...

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“Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; each to his passion;                 what’s in a name?” –Helen Hunt Jackson....

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Mountains mourn a mildew. Such a deity of prowess. What a cumbersome lot those pickles. And oh look there, a pretty formation of moths in a tree. Thunderbeds are ghosts. And who would count the...

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One must have purpose he spoke to her
                           ...

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As a writer, people are my vocation. 
As for humanity, men, women 
And other abstractions, 
Their interests constitute little more 
Than my hobby; I can only deal in people. 
As soon as I start dealing...

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Executive- My powers are absolute,
                    thus I am totalitarian.
       ...

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Brigitte my love
Our Country suffers of many debts
The people are restless
Whatever shall we do love?

Ah Macron, we must think past the cookies
The solutions are complex, answers evasive
Let me speak with Marie Antoinette, she shall know!
Queen...

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What stirs around me is evasive and true 
A light appears over me glowing and spinning
I get a calm feeling when and ever it's due
People have seen it, gasping and pointing
They say "what was that,...

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But what of Aysin? She'd be here by three. 
What seemed to me the perfect metaphor 
(young Ankara was her, old "Stamboul", me) 
was not an easy drive - five hours, and more! 

It's midnight...

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