Long Float Poems

This is for the Contest - 'Titanic - Fare Thee Well' Sponsored by Tom Woody.
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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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Sonnets XLII-LI

Distances
by Michael R. Burch

Moonbeams on water?
the reflected light
of a halcyon star
now drowning in night...
So your memories are.

Footprints on beaches
now flooding with water;
the small, broken ribcage
of some primitive slaughter...
So near, yet so far.



A Surfeit of...

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They called their gang The ReVolutionaries,
my Father Sun and Mother Earth drew time with them,
but they often called themselves Yang and Yin,
respectively and mutually respectful
yet privately erotic,
not so much politically and economically
where Yang could not...

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Sonnets XVII-XXIV

Discrimination
by Michael R. Burch

The meter I had sought to find, perplexed,
was ripped from books of "verse" that read like prose.
I found it in sheet music, in long rows
of hologramic CDs, in sad wrecks
of long-forgotten...

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I melt into the plural sky
its rippling tableaus of tomorrow
underneath open light waves 
see-saws the labyrinth
like Delphi tendrils crossing channels 
all the changing faces played
automatic, embedded in misty consort 
with Hyde-Lees and Yeats 
love-crushed oracles
ghostwriting...

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"The Sleeper and The Supernaturalist"


The Sleeper
shone as she walked 
through the Woods

shining alive 
like nothing
natural could

caught 
in the moonlight 
unaware

the innocent
red-caped roses stared
the trees whispered,

"beware, beware"

barefoot softly 
the Supernaturalist 
transfigures instead

from under shine 
she bares...

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A Vain Word
by Michael R. Burch

Oleanders at dawn preen extravagant whorls
as I read in leaves’ Sanskrit brief moments remaining
till sunset implodes, till the moon strands grey pearls
under moss-stubbled oaks, full of whispers, complaining
to the darkening...

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Merov’s Ghost (1) and Other Shots Across My Bow!

In mid-November of Fourteen, I published my first web verse here, (2)
the earliest spanned sixty years, composed for Senior English class
one night in Nineteen Sixty-One. Assigned just...

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With Julian Jaynes
we find an egocentric languaged LeftBrain
developing reasons to sacredly love our healthy RightBrain inductive-integrative SacredPower feelings of Earth's co-relationship with LeftBrain's Self-ReGenerating Identity
of BiCameral Ego/Eco-Consciousness.

Later on in the evolution of Positive Psychology,
we find...

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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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These words of love I give to you, my dear
to have comfort in the stillness of time
and meld two souls to keep love's wishes near
when the length of the years and age will climb
I will...

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Stuck in place…
Free in space…
you’re insane 
I’m as sweet as sugar cane…
Whatever happened to your unique personality?
Whatever happened to your sanity? 
Has it transformed to insanity?
I like the way you make me feel
Oh, you don’t...

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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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I take a four-fold spin
through Bill Plotkin's wheel
of bilateral identities,
iconic developmental faces,
ironic personalities.


FIRST comes Eastern-born
dawn of human infancy,
Innocent Sage infants
so WiseElder
in our LeftBrain emergent
wrinkling unfolding 
sacred RightBrain ways.

Searching for care giving eyes
to be sure we...

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Was the place where we climbing down the bank
Then arrived, alpine and, for what was there
Such as, that any eyesight would be shrank.

Similar to landslide that in side bare
Before Trento the Adige just smote,
Or for...

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(Continuing the trip through Hell of Dante with poet Virgilio)

Pah-peh Sah-tan, Pah-peh Sah-tan al-ept!”,
Started Pluto with his hoarse voice toss
And that gentle wise, who any knowledge kept,

Told to encourage me: “don’t have a loss 
By...

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In sandy Egypt lived three men
In ancient days when pharaohs reigned
The kingdom of the pyramids,
Osiris and that Isis’ den,
Whom everyone worships and heeds,
Or at least doing so they feigned,
And those gods too blessed them and...

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Close your eyes
Explicit shame sheds rage in my eyes
I’ll be alright in the morning light and the night’s so bright
Open up your eyes
Sharpen me like your pensive pencil……
Begin with me, thinking I’m not thin
Paper thin,...

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I am an Outlander
Who lives on a high hill
Overlooking a man-made lake
That once was a rapidly rushing river
Along whose banks the Ozarks Bluff Dwellers and the Osage and then Delaware
Hunted, fished, and created shelter
For their...

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He lifts me up on cloud nine
I’m a lost sheep in godly sleep
He nurtures me like His child – I’m feelin’ fine
I’m a joyful sheep in godly sleep
Dead leaves of dried hope and fervor-lacking faith...

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Oh Hanna. 

The sinking of the USS Stefan wood. 

Oh Hanna 
I want to take you to Montana. 
We can camp out by the springs we will go and see the way oil is founding...

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My Last Las Vegas C.E.S. (1)
(A Memorial Poem)
I long counted Steve Bristow a friend (1) and we'd fly off to lunch
some days (Steve would get 'hours in' he needed for license - small planes).
It was...

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C:
  I journeyed long upon the way, e-mailed through your router
  hello "Henry", good to greet, I am in your computer
  I am between him and her, so I am gender neuter

...

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Poem 1: A Boy And His Painted Piano

he used lively greens
tender blues,
touches of plain mauve 
and rainbow trout splatters
to paint music
on the gas fumes 
that inhabited the clean air
that once use to live there.

he made...

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