Long Impermanence Poems

Salvation of a Formalist, an Ode to Entropy
by Michael R. Burch

Entropy?
God's universal decree
That I get to be
Disorderly?
Suddenly
My erstwhile boxed-in verse is free?
Wheeeeee!



Eternal Currents
by Michael R. Burch

How can I write and not be true
to the rhythm...

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R.I.P.
by Michael R. Burch

When I am lain to rest
and my soul is no longer intact, 
but dissolving, like a sunset
diminishing to the west...

and when at last
before His throne my past
is put to test
and the demons...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems XI

Myth
by Michael R. Burch

after the sprung rhythm of Dylan Thomas

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...

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Poems about Fathers and Grandfathers II



All Things Galore
by Michael R. Burch

for my grandfathers George Edwin Hurt Sr. and Paul Ray Burch, Sr.

Grandfather,
now in your gray presence
you are

somehow more near

and remind me that,
once, upon a star,
you...

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THIS WORLD OF DEW

This world? 
Moonlit dew
flicked from a crane's bill.
—Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Seventy-one?
How long
can a dewdrop last? 
—Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dewdrops beading grass-blades
die before...

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Lost In the Mists Parts I - IV

                           ...

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The world that unfolds before me is unknown, but for some reason it is mine. Yes.
Anyone could say that my life is monotonous. But not. I protest. This is not true. Only mine.
No one just...

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The Truth Of This Magnitude”

Obstinate defiance from an indignant child 
Consummate reliance on the spirit of the Wild 

Intricate compositions of meticulous art 
A syndicate of derision that is waiting to depart 

The honorary commemoration...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems XIII

Davenport Tomorrow
by Michael R. Burch

Davenport tomorrow ...
all the trees stand stark-naked in the sun.

Now it is always summer
and the bees buzz in cesspools,
adapted to a new life.

There are no flowers,
but the weeds,...

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Let Dust Blur The Pages
 
By Phan Tan Hai
     
Let's close the pages, where the dreams still linger
let pen and ink flow the lines of poetry on their own
words written down...

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(myself to myself on myself for myself)

When you hear the clamor of the birds loud
shrieking shockingly it shouldn’t frighten
you they simply don’t realize the magnitude
of the head of sand that gets washed away
onto your shoulders...

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(CRUMPLED THOUGHTS POETRY CONTEST)

When you hear the clamor of the birds loud
shrieking shockingly it shouldn’t frighten
you they simply don’t realize the magnitude
of the head of sand that gets washed away
onto your shoulders and violates sanctity.

Did...

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Snorting, snarling, spewing, glowing
phosphors from its flaring, hairy nostrils
the Truesoarius is a mythic dragon
that stalks and lurks in lore.
Never cowering in a cave,
ready to rise from the deep seas
or from mountains poised to pounce,
in the...

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It’s evolution and for sure we’ve come some automatic way since
		
               Darwin marvelled at volcanoes in Galapagos and still
		
  ...

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Life flashes by in a moment of time.
Late twilight’s rose fades, the sweet songbirds leave.
Though we strive to remain in reasoned rhyme
All living will die, the joyful will grieve.
What vision can guide us? What blinding...

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I touched her hand and the warmth of her soul
rushed my veins like a mad river,
obliterating all doubts.
Would that I survive the tumult, the undying desire
to touch her skin again, even for a moment, to...

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I know the game of exclusion,
have played it all my life and
now I've mastered it,
a talent to brag about.

Exclusion from normality,
the joy of inclusion.
Exclusion from continuity,
the malaise of discontinuity,
the permanent otherness.
It's a mystery how it...

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Children toil with their buckets and spades sculpt castles into the sand

In joy and in innocence they build towers gates draw bridges and moats

Know deep in their hearts that the tides are stronger than fortifications

Nothing...

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"Living"

That one-eyed god, 
that strange god
the colour of the sun,
leonine, speaks 
in strange ways to me, 
waking me up
purring seductively,
message received
obliquely through 
the smaller 
sentient sapient, 
strange little creatures
of large stature visiting,
just like
I am, 
visiting,
that...

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Unseen forces like real native spirits
in red clay cliffs who show painted faces.
Singing songs echoed in faint voices:
tattered tribes, shamed souls, sacred spaces.
Hidden hurts of primitive peoples
have effects that only time erases.

Unseen forces from privileged...

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THE LAST NEGOTIATIONS



The child that I was – Never believed in death-

Loving life so much that I cud not conceive of it.

Time – states of minds- growth-maturation

New realizations, that interfered with my own

Understanding of, life...

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The gentle buzzing sound echoed memories of a fading childhood

When she and her cousin had whispered secrets at the mosque

About undying love and first kisses before being stung by a bee

‘Honey, don’t worry they make...

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Soul-are 

Is my soul conscious at this time?

No further question marks in asking
as the query is itself the answer
tentative and playful statement
of intent of letting go solutions
to a problem which is not

The conscious soul

There is...

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In poetry, love and wisdom intertwine—a heartfelt love poem can carry profound wisdom, and wise reflections often touch upon matters of the heart. ????
Psalm 90:6
in the morning it springs up new, but by evening it...

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... stalactites hung like dystopian snot from a statue 

her brain was frozen and formed ice in her mind

a lacuna without inlet or outlet arrested in time

mind’s skates tied up in bundles of snowflakes

gloves off...

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