Long Forests Poems

"The Payload" 

The payload 
came crashing down
like rain expelled
from the fat belly 
of a ruinous pregnant cloud 
bilious with buxom promise

it came crashing down 
like school fish released 
from the tight confines
of a course rope...

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Once,
or twice, 
maybe thrice,
surely not
not fractal

A clan of crazy ecofeminists
conspired within an 88 unit residential castle
in their historically converted 
sometimes hysterically clueless condo
colonial-red predative brick 
badly bald aging building

With a sometimes soggy south walled school,
but...

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What fills your goals, son?

I told you!
Need to get my car rolling [life rolling, love rolling]
yesterday,
if not today...

If I may interrupt
to process mindful resilience
for a bit...

Let me ask again:
Noticing you are concerned about long-winded
and -winding
and...

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Beckoning
by Michael R. Burch 
 
Yesterday the wind whispered my name
while the blazing locks
of her rampant mane
lay heavy on mine.
And yesterday
I saw the way
the wind caressed tall pines
in forests laced by glinting streams
and thick with...

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Dear Donald John
and GoodFaith Followers,
CoInvestors,
ProActive Prayers for Rapturous Redemption
from Eternal Hellish
paranoid
Left EgoVoices anger and fear
Right SpiritFeelings ecodarkly terrified
from and of dying death.

Your LeftBrain does not lack
for paranoid Win/Lose conviction
We must live in a dog eat...

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The title of this talk today,
"Win-Win Politics of New Feminist Economics"
suggests questions,
more than emasculating 
definitively deductive
reductive
answers.

Would you imagine
a minority-identified Buddhist,
more likely as a feminist
or culturally comfortable
with political and economic Left-brain domination,
monopolistic competing toward total self-consuming
reiteratively...

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This revolutionary message
is brought to you by
the 
TransMillennial EarthTribe CoOperative,
your international ecopolitical sponsor,
speciating Earth's New PostMillennially Silent EcoLogical Majority.

We think we begin to both comprehend,
in a B. Fullerian metaphysical sense,
and co-empathically trust,
in an economic and...

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We might do well
to worry less
about including the grizzly bear population
in our DNA/RNA cooperatively encultured Golden Rule,
after all,
we already would kill and eat them,
if hungry enough,
as they would like to treat us.

We could do well
to...

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When passion plants a multicultural seed,
then justice flourishes a polypathic trusting flower.

Permaculture and polyculture, 
grow holistic cause-effect karmic significance 
for our physical, and mental, political and spiritual health.

Permacultural, as I intend it this morning,
refers to...

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Hark and listen well, if those foretoken in the eyes of hungers lust
Trapped in their illusion, trampling the Stars into dust
Forced with the detestation stench by the swamp of absolute disgust
Thou blackest scorpion be accursed,...

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Once upon a time, there were two little villages, Rowling and Tolkien, that lived in peace with each other.  Rowling and Tolkien had many, many children, some very young, others young, and a few...

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(Somewhere in late 18th-century Europe a friend, Laetitia, by way of a letter warns her beloved girlfriend, Euphoria--a young, gay and unsuspecting mistress--against the almost inevitable seductions of the infamous and maundering philanderer, Melancholia.).



Dear Euphoria,

...

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(continued from A Year Of Months (January-June)
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/heroic_crown_of_sonnets_-_part_one_772928


A Year Of Months (July-December)

8. July

July now follows summer's song of June;
with sun ablaze, her days are humid, warm.
Great time to languish in the afternoon,
and later, watch an evening...

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"The Depths"

From the depths
silence.

Where 
are the voices
of other 
women?

In that other place,
the monsters violate, 
they take and take
bloody all, what they want

the dreams of women
are torched, murdered, 
next to them, 
the sweet dreams of lives...

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As I look back across more musical times
of rhythmic reflections,
ceremonies and commemorations
of each dawn and dusk eremitic liturgy,
if that is not an oxymoron
of sound and sight,
song and dance,
tragically sad, yet also bilaterally bound with happier...

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Patterns of phylogenic history
retell our creative creation story
as bicameral restoration
of Earth's nature-spirit ecology,
both Eastern karma
and Western co-redemptive grace.

Spiritual memory experience
of RNA
and later DNA developments
and traumatic extinctions,
positive great transitions
and double-negative traumas;
are exegetical rhythms
and sacred seasoned pattern...

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New England's late May sun was long up,
and yet her laundry began to unfold
and clip onto the droopy clothesline,
while yet to warm into 8 AM.

She wore a light spring jacket
and need not think long
about why...

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Translation of Les Moulins de mon Cœur-THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND by T. Wignesan

(For the orignal text in French by Eddy MARNAY : see here below. The English version by Marilyn and Alan BERGMAN differs...

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genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.

...maybe it's been a while since...

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Fascism lives in tension with holy optimism,
as hatred fades in presence of mutual love,
as WinLose evolutionary models
give way to WinWin sacred Energy
stories and songs and dances,
as patriarchal colonization
gives way to matriarchal creolization.

Fascism,
synonymous with Totalitarianism,
as written...

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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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1.

                                  ...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems XII

Because You Came to Me
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Because you came to me with sweet compassion
and kissed my furrowed brow and smoothed my hair,
I do not love you after any fashion,
but wildly,...

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PRELUDE.
When the sky and world are dark no sounds are heard in the woods. Perhaps the scrabbling of night creatures on the hunt fo food. But no sound of woodpeckers ra ta tatting, bird song...

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The Professor's campaign
although stealthily benign
still co-arose fair hecklers.

How can you reassure me
that our vulnerable children
will not hate me
and you
for stealing from all Earth's tribal presence,
and any possibility of healthy future?

While Yangyinstein stood stunned
with wonder
about all...

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