Long Forehead Poems

This is the second part of Rabindranath Tagore's Narrative poem - Phanki (Deception). The first part has been already posted. 




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This is the story of mad Molly Shaw
She might be mad now but she wasn’t before
she came home to find her man dead on the floor
She lay down her bible and let out a roar...

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On an early morning just before school
My tummy is churning my head hurts too
My feet are cold my forehead is hot
I have a runny nose and a tongue with blue dots

“Mom come quick!” I helplessly...

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While family Mingled with one 
Another and strangers the party flowed 
Smoothly. Music was enjoyed.
Everybody indulged. With a little 
Champagne some wine and juice.
The bar also served smoothies.
Adults mingled. Delilah Mallory 
Mother Daughtry and Amaliah...

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Pain settles in quite instantly your senses 
are totally unprepared for this graveness
the notion to sleep sets in like an energetic 
twilight phase the injury abruptly strangles 
thought my ears are always ringing with this...

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This is a translation from a Poem (Title - Niskriti) by Rabindranath Tagore, Nobel-Laureate philosopher poet (1861 - 1941) from India. The story successfully depicts the status of women in a patriarchal society of nineteenth...

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My auntie came to visit when I was three, but nearly four.
    I proudly and lovingly wore her name gifted to me, a sweet legacy.
       I...

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I have a little story to tell you ... it's absolutely true, of course, at least as far as I'm concerned, but you can take it as you wish - as a tale, a fact,...

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Now is going on through a secret way
Between the martyrdoms and the ground wall,
My master, and I behind him to stay.

“Oh highest virtue, who me gently haul
In wicked rounds”, I started, “If you please,
Speak to...

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Upon this date he spoke no more of the preceding moments, 
Tearing and hurling insult upon insult
In several directions, his tongue whipped and scorched me,
And he waited relentlessly to see the spark in my eyes...

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*Image of Many Meanings by KWC.

Likeness ssenekiL: Part 1

(HOMONYMS: Homophones & Homographs)

He'll heal his heel.
They sow so they sew.
His aide aid with an ade.
You saw a ewe eat a yew.
I ate on the ait eight...

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     We sat at the end of the bar in a seedy place on Seventh street.  Nursing our drinks, we both had a bit too much that night.  My...

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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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So cramped ...
Strain to move,
Flex and budge in tiny increments ...
That's the limit.
Constantly testing, trying,
Pushing, pressing ...
Constrict, exert, constrict, struggle,
Spin slowly, push ...
That's it. That's all.
Nothing more.
But it helps ... relief,
A body sigh ...
But only...

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I remember my cherished Wolf Cub pack, 
How I loved those Wednesday evenings, 
The games, the pomp and seriousness of the camps, 
The different coloured scarves, sweaters and hair 
During the mass meetings, 
The solemnity...

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Such Tenderness
by Michael R. Burch

for the mothers of Gaza

There was, in your touch, such tenderness—as
only the dove on her mildest day has,
when she shelters downed fledglings beneath a warm wing
and coos to them softly, unable...

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* For J.K. Rowling *

                 ~ 

now, deliberate your hearing
     to bring back the pages...

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                             Brahman Nemesis

    ...

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FICTIONAL BIO:

The missus asked me
(hitherto known as her bozo)
just mere moments ago
to craft humorous poem to glow
nsync with the shiny nose of Rudolph
keeping syncopated metrical flow
thus methought to crow
about being equally as foolish
streaking naked outside...

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Two new crutches and two double shots of Bushmills Irish Whiskey enabled Joe Faherty to move from the back seat of Moira Murphy's 1976 Buick into Eagan's Funeral Home for Tim McGillicuddy's wake. At 87,...

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SHE was my wife, once ...

long ago, so very long ago ...
we met on the showboat, up-river,
almost fifty years back now ...
I was a young officer for the Confederacy,
working for the Yanks after The Turn,

supplying...

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Reflecting in her garden sits a winsome little maid;
She holds a purple flower like the circlet that she made
And wrapped about her braids to grace her forehead like a crown;
Her thick and shining braids that...

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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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Thirty years ago, long before ISIS started executing Kurds, Muslims and Christians, I hired a Pakistani Muslim as an art director in Chicago. I was an Irish Catholic editor putting out a small national magazine....

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The constant assault of the silence on his senses is intense 
Hands clenched in fist he wished for noise and bliss
Buddy stopped talking and drinking he begins pacing as he’s thinking 
Tired from walking he...

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