Long Larks Poems

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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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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These are prophetic poems and apocalyptic poems ...



The Vision of the Overseer’s Right Hand
by Michael R. Burch

“Dust to dust ...”

I stumbled, aghast,
into a valley of dust and bone
where all men become,
at last, the same color...

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The flames of the furnace (well-travelled by wind
slowly glazing the rags of gray women chagrined
at the sight of a hair fleeing tresses now thinned) 
sometimes billow like waves flooding naves through the night,
when the lightning...

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 Diary Notes: Lament at Dawn A Year Ago and yet now No Change
				                     ...

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Lovely Roses

                                 ...

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Diary Notes: Lament at Dawn
				                             …at the...

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Summer is lingering on and autumn is secretly chiming in
wild marigolds are blooming everywhere
and the earth is soaking up  my  sordid tears
The full moon is  watching over me and predicting my destiny
Bright...

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Jack and Jill were brother and sister, whose environs were hilly and green;
And they groomed horses and worked in gardens, oft 'til a moonlight scene.

They did daily chores on a farm, in the outlying regions...

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Even the Lazy Lizard

Even the lazy lizard knows when not to beg,
when not to emerge, from behind the hungry black rock of 
another dying hand, hopelessly clutching the mysteries of 
another sit-down, in the serene...

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The dark wood is breathing blue,

   and sense do I the sweet sound

   of larks and their legendary love,

   and sweeter scents still do I

   drink of...

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The Nile River seems like standing still;
But is actually continuously running, continuously promising.
By day, by night;
Depositing on its shores sands and rocks and debris.
Green farms stretching along;
Tall palm trees overlooking the scene.
Trees’ long “jareed” (leaves)...

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Hours contemplated, yet words just cease to come,
Until I open my eyes and gaze at dawn’s sun
I remember words spoken in a haze of a dream,
Resting on the thoughtful tongue passed from you to me
Ignorance...

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Voices

by June Ellen Smith

Tiny voices in the nighttime rhyming with
Tiny hands, expanding into bigger ones,
Sucking thumbs and fingers. Ringers on
A pole - horseshoes. Tie shoes for tiny feet.
Defeat the tiny voices in my head when
I...

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Come in scented summer garden! 
Come in nature super show! 
veins of Thee all  turned  to yellow 
Mistletoe! in spring woe? 
In the scented breath of summer
Laugh and look at magic show

Beauteous are...

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Across the land this morn, a roll of light 
Gave birth to shadows, cast from chalky hills
The larks ascended, sang away the night
Vibrated sky to waking with their trills
‘Tis Summer; round the circle swirls the...

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great expectations
anticipated in the 
poetic heart 
Havisham delivered
all and more for love, 
a separate unseen thief, 
tore the others’ worlds apart

webs like ectoplasm
from underneath a rock
scurrying swiftly out of sight
wrapped tight around a child
dressed in...

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An old Point Man phoned, “Do ya think you can do it?.  
Driving doggies and cows from the flanks of Mt. Stewart?"
Fattened on grass for a year they had stayed. 
“Move a river of...

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Come Friends, from all the quarters come
From mountain and from sea
And harken to the ancient drum
That beats at Avebury
The wren that sings, the bees that hum
The bard beneath the tree

Come Fellows, from the east and...

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*Image of Seasons Of The Year by Pixabay.

Seasonals
~~0~~
Time of heaven's anointing fertile grounds,
     fertile nature, and beast surrounds,
Hail, 'tis springtime here a blossoming,
     buds are blooming everywhere,
Hark...

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“This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods, strange gods,...

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Midnight darkness suddenly descended upon the city as morning peeped through the blackened sky the city waits in suspense to die. 

They have been working for several days battening up windows and doors as if...

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Along the corridors both in white overcoats,
I think that’s what unifies us, what charges the environment
Even with light shakes and occasional jades
With larks pretence to just keep the handshake a little longer
Every meeting moment, both...

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He runs to the stone bridge that connects his piece of land and the green foot path that leads to the village in one end and to the market in the other end. He raises...

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