Long Lacquer Poems

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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'BRRRING BRRRING' said the telephone

“Oh hello” said the wide viewfinder to the telephone. “How are you today?” The telephone fell silent. Very silent. It had no battery with which to call, speak, shout or do...

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Am I just another antiquity
An artist who finds a natural home
Among the paupers whose graves are marked with serial numbers
Instead of headstones?
I hate gimmicks and dismiss them
Like any other moment of mediocrity.  
The truth...

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Students their little burning harmonies | you compos’d it 
One single gallery | public arras blasé debate re-placed
Sheets just- | cool on clothesline whiskered with wear.
Variousness was it| trusted its core | bayou, brilliant books
In...

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                     ...

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Christmas is creeping in.
I’ve seen my first quality street tin. 
The John Lewis advert is out
And the motorised reindeers about. 

Shop windows glitter and glow,  
Ladbrookes give odds on the snow, 
The eyes ...

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Beautiful Black Girl

Beautiful black girl your shade is divine, your silky lacquer skin looks so rich against mine.  You are so beautiful, in time you will know it, you will be refined.

I lived so...

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Written: September 24, 2023
_____________________________________________________________

In the dawn-like haze—a shriek was heard,
An echo so shrewd, yet birdless, oddly slurred 
It was ordained by—a stratum unseen,
A throbbing coerce, a numen so keen. 

A canticle flower—a bellow coarsely flung,
Through...

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From a teen of 18, for the next six years,
my life and time were given to broken men.
Some of that time was also given to the lives
of kids who were the 'would be broken' men
unless...

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Everything glistens
like being sprayed with lacquer,
  the rain has stopped,
but clouds
       still hide the moon
making the darkness
  so complete
that it's hard to tell
where it ends
  ...

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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 huge cartloads to the bonfires.

Then a banished writer, one of the...

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Their yellow teeth smile, stained a lacquer brown.
We swap greetings, though the format banal.
Actions reveal bedeviled, forced manners - - - 
though fear could not goad me to leave, undone.
The wise one approached, glistening black,...

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Once filled with joy and wonder,
Now cracked with blood and powder,
Yet molded by ceramic lava with no ocean lover,
Laced by unfiltered poison with no filtered antidote,
While punching bag pulses raced through the steamy ridges.
The village...

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Die Maske des Bösen (“The Mask of Evil”)
by Bertolt Brecht
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A Japanese woodcarving hangs on my wall—
the mask of an ancient demon, limned with golden lacquer.
Not unsympathetically, I observe
the forehead’s bulging...

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To heal with gold
By Michelle Morris
08/12/2022

I felt your brokenness
When you came near
Your light had flickered
And died a little

The death of a child
Is the Universe's pain
For each little soul
Means more heartbreak

I sit next to you
Give you...

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3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison

High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies

Lemon yellow coated walls,
Flat,
Like their smiles

Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
Pacifiers included

The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.

Courtesy...

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Night falls and the mirror moon illumes the 
heavenly starry skies with gleaming ivory beams.  
Shiny and mellow, a splendrous silver orb, 
the delight of the night sky!

It is the evening of the 15th,...

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I thought about Kintsugi this morning while looking in the mirror…feeling old…Kintsugi is the art of repairing cracks and breaks in pottery with lacquer dusted in silver, platinum…and gold.

The philosophy being those breaks and cracks...

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I Found a Knife in the Desert

Folks chucked trash in the desert for 10,000 years.
The knife, perhaps not dumped, but lost?
The blade, seven inches long, years encrusted
with winter desert mud, hardened by summer desert sun.
An...

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Dewdrops stream down boisterous 
children’s freckle-strewn mischievous dials,
as they dash in cartoon costume faux denim
apparel amidst the pale yellow sunlight glare.
Marble stone button twiddle on a blue
rinse wrinkle t-shirt,
Sumptuous  ice cream raspberry blobs
tantalise the...

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---A big mistake and a parallel universe 
School days filled with endangered species cumulonimbus inchworms by the feet 
And whale songs sung in the deep waters
After the fire whirlpools of six degrees of separation
Are ruby...

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Twas the night before Christmas and all thru the house
My grandpa's fast at work carving a wooden mouse
In the spirit of St. Nick he bloomed from his heart
And sang holiday cheers and Noel's  from...

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In the jungle's heart, where shadows and spirits blend,
A silent hunter, a forest's friend.
Stripes of amber, black and gold,
The tale of power, courage and bold.

Its eyes burn bright, flaming hue,
Reflecting the skies of cerulean blue.
Its...

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to sneak outside,
into the gentle beauty of evening
when all others are asleep,
except for nocturnal hawks like me,

I  wander along the river's shore,
in the twirling, dappled
prism of waves, pebbles and buds,
thrown across the grass
by the...

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I STAND I STEPPED IN AN AQUATIC SPILLWAY OF A DREAM LAKE

Dream lake head waters
Thing of lacquer
Engaging lacquering
Full of shallows
Silent lac

I stand I stepped in an aquatic spillway of a dream lake

Out by the thought...

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