Long Heron Poems

Epigrams by Michael R. Burch

If brevity is the soul of wit
then brevity and levity 
are the whole of it.
—Michael R. Burch

To write an epigram, cram.
If you lack wit, scram!
—Michael R. Burch

Conformists of a feather
flock together.
—Michael...

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Doggerel I or Nonsense Verse

A$$tronomical
by Michael R. Burch

Einstein, the frizzy-haired,
proved E equals MC squared.
Thus, all mass decreases
as activity ceases?
Not my mass, my a$$ declared!



Bible Libel
by Michael R. Burch

If God
is good,
half the Bible
is libel.

I came up...

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Limericks II - Nature Poems and Animal Poems

Dot Spotted
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a leopardess, Dot,
who indignantly answered: "I’ll not!
The gents are impressed
with the way that I’m dressed.
I wouldn’t change even one spot!"



Clyde Lied!
by...

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Dot Spotted
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a leopardess, Dot,
who indignantly answered: "I’ll not!
The gents are impressed
with the way that I’m dressed.
I wouldn’t change even one spot."



Stage Craft-y
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a dromedary
who...

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Poems about Flight, Flying, and Birds



Flying
by Michael R. Burch

I shall rise
and try the bloody wings of thought
ten thousand times
before I fly...

and then I'll sleep
and waste ten thousand nights
before I dream;

but when at last...
I soar the...

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I Know The Truth
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I know the truth?abandon lesser truths!
There's no need for anyone living to struggle!
See? Evening falls, night quickly descends!
So why the useless disputes?generals, poets, lovers?

The wind...

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Radiance
by Michael R. Burch

for Dylan Thomas

The poet delves earth’s detritus—hard toil—
for raw-edged nouns, barbed verbs, vowels’ lush bouquet;
each syllable his pen excretes—dense soil,
dark images impacted, rooted clay.

The poet sees the sea but feels its meaning—
the...

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At Tintagel
by Michael R. Burch

That night, 
at Tintagel, 
there was darkness such as man had never seen...
darkness and treachery, 
and the unholy thundering of the sea...

In his arms, 
who is to say how much she...

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Poems about Children IV

Salat Days
by Michael R. Burch

Dedicated to the memory of my grandfather, Paul Ray Burch, Sr.

I remember how my grandfather used to pick poke salat ...
though first, usually, he’d stretch back in the...

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These are poems about Dylan Thomas, as well as poems "for" and "after" Dylan Thomas. Dylan Thomas was one of my favorite poets from my early teens and has remained so over the years. I...

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Myth, after Dylan Thomas
by Michael R. Burch

Here the recalcitrant wind
sighs with grievance and remorse
over fields of wayward gorse
and thistle-throttled lanes.

And she is the myth of the scythed wheat
hewn and sighing, complete,
waiting, lain in a low...

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Prose Poems

Something
by Michael R. Burch

Something inescapable is lost?lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars immeasurable and void. Something uncapturable is...

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I aped to a blue heron to a man who wrote his deed.
Once you're at the final of the story, no woe is needed.

If death appeared to be appropriate, life would be aimless.
If you have...

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Thump-thump of stiffening fish contorting
   In the bilge beneath the gunwale; 
 Lidless, bulging, reddened eyes, swivelling upwards, 
Protruding horribly from the straining sockets,
    Express stupefied amazement at inconceivable 
...

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Visual surroundings-
Some of it are monotonous -
Tiring are Some of it sometimes-
Maybe traditional scenes
Unknowingly builds the pinnacle -
Of the dreamless minaret.

Or-
Talk about rubbish
That rains incessantly
Disturbs the Subconscious.


Rather in the darkness of decade
Or-
It can be seen...

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1

Sunrise, late winter
skunk smell
turkey flock
playful otter, too.

The white heron
a great blue,
white phase,
in the abandoned beaver pond.

Purple clematis
its long-awned achenes
in globose heads
spidery, fiery, extravagant fruit!

To identify or classify
birds by
the complexity or beauty
of their songs.

And so
what is...

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He retired to his sanctuary
on the Eastern shore of the Thames River
three years ago,
an often frustrated permaculture organizer
for building cooperative social health
by creatively communicating climate wealth
growing ZeroZone positive multicultural tao-energy.

This proves reclusively frustrating
in large part...

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I met you on the road of Longing,
As you took me hand in hand,
My heart burst with love wide open,
And so our journey began.-

My Kings, my life is yours,
I have lived to this moment for...

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Consonant Like A Vow (el)

Now ma nada twirly (to early) twittering 
condolences to the esprit de corps, qua 
(just recently) late John McCain, and his 
surviving family suddenly damning original 
way word odd did see,...

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Cherry Tree Music Co-op

alternately titled instant infatuation: 
a moment of spontaneous spunk
instantaneously transformed 
ordinarily shy guy into a quidnunc
courtesy powder milk biscuits
inside his mouth 
bitesize morsels did plunk
wafted courtesy pheromones 
found him punchdrunk
reclusive tendencies bubbled...

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Ooh a scented grape graphic. Now that's wisdom. Contained a logical pattern in a juice cup. Heron haven heaping. Wisdomstic of a Judas flaw. Consealed in Sanskrit. Heavenly heaping cream on a very large bun....

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Sex Hex
by Michael R. Burch

Love’s full of cute paradoxes
(and highly acute poxes).



Love
by Michael R. Burch

Love is either wholly folly,
or fully holy.



Nun Fun Undone
by Michael R. Burch

Abbesses'
recesses
are not for excesses!



Here and Hereafter
by Michael R. Burch

Life’s saving...

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A fat flat packed duck billed platypus was not on a platter. In fact it had escaped under a robe. With a robin. The robin was to be stuffed into a pigeon which was stuffed...

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When the cows come home to roost,
	or the crows are grazing grass,
It’s time I wrote a rhyme,
	until yesterday returns to pass!
If bats in the belfry stay sleeping,
	until the clock strikes the noon of day,
Tis then...

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My wife and I prefer hand-me-downs to new things in most cases, but then, we're antiques freaks - 


Lots o’ fog an’ kinda brisk that mid-November morning when my an’ Russell’s tackle boxes spread to...

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