Long Harold Poems

Poems about Poems (II)

Kin
by Michael R. Burch

for Richard Moore

1.
Shrill gulls,
how like my thoughts
you, struggling, rise
to distant bliss?
the weightless blue of skies
that are not blue
in any atmosphere,
but closest here...

2.
You seek an air
so clear,
so rarified
the effort leaves...

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State of the Art (III)

These are my "ars poetica" poems: the ones about the art and craft of writing poetry in a modern world that doesn't always recognize the artists or their work. 



Come Down
by...

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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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Come Down
by Michael R. Burch

for Harold Bloom

Come down, O, come down
from your high mountain tower.
How coldly the wind blows,
how late this chill hour ...

and I cannot wait
for a meteor shower
to show you the time
must be...

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CRISIS TEAM: HELLO WE ARE HERE TO HELP

AGENT BROWN: HELLO I'M AGENT BROWN IN DIRE NEED OF THE FBI HELP AFTER I CONTACTED THE FBI ABOUT THE ARSON MURDERER OF 9 CIRO GARGANO AND HIS...

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Hannah, I haven't seen or heard you cry
not in the gray of winter day
or in the cold silence of our prisoner nights,
the others can hardly keep up with you on the marches
your face is changeless...

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(alternately titled: idolizing childhood's end
today April 25th, 2021
generates elusive warm treasured memories).

Akin to significance my eldest sister
felt toward her “Willies” –
(totally tubular fuzzy bendable contrivances
analogous to an outsize pipe cleaner)
until she became a tweener
my Matty...

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Everything I know...I learned from children’s books 

One day I ran to Grandpa and I looked into his ear.
“Mommy says you’re pretty smart…do you keep your brains in here?”

“Oh, It’s too dark. I can’t see...

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One day I ran to Grandpa…And I looked into his ear.
“Mommy says you’re pretty smart….Do you keep your brains in here?”

It’s too dark in here. I can’t see a thing…I don’t know what to do.
Grandpa...

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THANKS FOR YOUR TIME: To everything there is a
season, a time for every purpose under heaven; -
Ecclesiastes 3:1
A young man learns what’s most important in life
from the guy next door. It had been some time...

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Note: this is the 2nd HALF of this piece, a little too long to post as one poem, sorry. If you enjoy story-poems, it's definitely worth the read, believe me. (Or the "listen".)


“We learned of...

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History's Sad Song (Revised)

throughout my life
I've heard many a sad song
relating to the lyrics
that seemed to play too long

way back during the Crusade
where religious debt was paid
by the bloodlust of so many
could not ye God...

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Part 9

A trial was formed with the Captain as Judge
    With the good Doctor to frame the debate.
While the Dancer was pressed to the Atheist's grudge
    And the crew...

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When I was young,                               ...

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Harold the Hugh Hefner wannabe carrot top...

spry buck analogous to energizing bunny 
jump/kickstarted procreation ruckus.

Home on the range 
cacophony quite absurd
PlayBoy Bunny herd
and felt ingratiatingly inured,
nevertheless colony or nest 
of doe eyed demoiselles 
stewed over...

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Note: This is the 1st HALF of this piece, the 2nd Half ending part is ready for you on the Soup at "Poems by Mark Stellinga" --- or you can simply listen to the full...

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*Image of Dr. Harold Shipman by Film Daily.

Dr. Harold Shipman: Judge & Executioner: REVISED

The D.A. hoped
a tenth suffice
although they moped
much more be nice
but after all
who'll question his
a man of gall
and expertise.

Who walked about
so well at...

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Harold the Hugh Hefner carrot top buck

Ruled his hare'm 
nsync with trumpeting Donald Duck,
(loud enough to arouse Daisy),
the former cartoon character,
a pensive searing black kind Roebuck
heir to a fortune hauling trash and rubbish,

whereby dust bunnies...

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OH! Unto us a child is born!
OH! Unto us a Son is given!
Unto the people of the earth,
The virgin Mary gave birth,
To her newborn Son!

In a Bethlehem manger!
The Christ child was born!
Jesus Christ was born!...

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Poems about Poets IV



The Princess and the Pauper
by Michael R. Burch

for June Kraeft

Here was a woman bright, intent on life,
who did not flinch from Death, but caught his eye
and drew him, powerless, into her spell
of...

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Poems for Poets VI



Caveat
by Michael R. Burch

If only we were not so eloquent,
we might sing, and only sing, not to impress,
but only to enjoy, to be enjoyed.

We might inundate the earth with thankfulness
for light, although...

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She said that she is not that pretty
And she doesn't go to the gym or exercise
She said that she's a little on the chubby side
And she likes her burgers and French fries

She said why to...

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POEMS FOR POETS IV

PROFESSOR POETS

These are poems about professor poets and other wanna-be “intellectuals” who miss the main point of real poetry, which is to connect with readers via pleasing sounds and the communication of...

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POEMS ABOUT POETS VIII

PROFESSOR POETS

These are poems about professor poets and other wanna-be “intellectuals” who miss the main point of real poetry, which is to connect with readers via pleasing sounds and the communication of...

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My most recent vision of Jesus Christ was: walking on a golden 
heavenly pathway. On either side of Him were Harold angles 
dressed in white robes, and blowing silver trumpets. They were
harolding Jesus Christ's as...

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