Long Lisps Poems

Martial epigram translations

Epitaph for the Child Erotion
by Marcus Valerius Martial
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lie lightly on her, grass and dew...
So little weight she placed on you.

I created the translation above after the Nashville Covenant...

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A game of musical chairs has just begun in earnest. A pot and kettle band arrives 
through the dining rooms’ French doors following the Valentine Queen. A putrid pink 
flamingo with a croquet ball stuck...

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Shock waved over from a puddle to form an ocean as Jake stood taking splash after splash
of emotions that rolled him not to understand on how he should react to this rude from her
remark yet...

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Stay little Flower
                                ...

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Homey eyes of peasant stew
A cozy-colored mossy mew
Stony cottage, snowcheeks bleu
The forest fins for frosted fruits.

The warmest thought speaks crumbly bread
A partridge purr puffs through my head
That grants the grunkest grue a ‘Get!’
To packrat out...

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love …

a crutch for you
but you wear it like a Prada suit
matching handbag, of course, to keep
your toys in …
(mostly men … alphabetically)
six-inch Blahnik stilettos for crushing
egos with similar style
but not via hearts -
straight through...

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in the rusty tide animating bones
of deluded gods reaching for the lie
etched on eroded steles in dead lisps
licking flames of seers tossing guts
filled with blue and red fascists 
infecting the hands of the curious
willing to...

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Our  house is abuzz
With Me, Bella and Jess 
And Mummy is all delight
“Dad’s coming home tonight! “

The Cake has been made
The table has been laid 
Candles are alight
Dad will be home tonight!

Mum’s wearing polka...

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it comes in rapid progression
parting reality with subtle lisps.	 brown eyes
a forest floor of fern
   ever changing with the seasons
	         (a smile, a smirk)

preying hands...

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Hobbies are for losers, and habits are hobbies for the poor,
But hopping into heaping piles of rubbish is haute couture.

What’s in, ladies and gentlemen, is what we want thrown out,
But not to own it but...

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The way I see it 
the world’s gone wrong
I have had this notion 
Since the day I was born!

I move about 
on my fours
And mum has to 
do all my chores! 
From where I crawl
...

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I

Sweat hours are eternities in your smile a spirit is born clear to the clothed heart cold 
wind coughs through the window slathered white poetry adorns the stars with night 
cancer is a promise exploding...

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.

                 "'twuz this close"

               ...

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In open playing fields on muddy ground,
little fight amongst us children abound.

Petty things would spark arguments to fight,
sans reason so hard to say who was right.

Friends suddenly stop talking, walk away,
forget all and play together...

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I heard the voice of an angel cry aloud
Not in sweet tones that fill heaven's clouds
Within the habitation of God's ark
Christ dethroned from a carved bark.

Why criest thou o might one?
See what Christ's words declared...

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Lucy lisps, Lucy lisps
Lucy's tongue is in a twist
Saucy Susie sang a song
Silly Susie sang it wrong
Slinky slimy slippery snakes
Hisses kisses to their mates
Stoats stay stoic on the sand
While Willy Wagtail forms a band
Bandicoots break...

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Listen to the wind.....

   as she sings in her quiet lisps,

   and sighs the past and gusts

   with earnest need;


Listen to the tenets of the seasons 

  ...

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A threadbare sigh relentlessly lisps
    while he begs with twilight 
    for inner calm;
    Dear life...he is just a  young man, 
   ...

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Beneath the arc of crumbling dusk,
Lisps down the petals of the rose
To crimson-kiss the fountain bowls
Where the champagne faucet flows.
The guests in boarding houses
Felt the smoulder of their bones
Balding walls restricting transit
Behind the mortar work...

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Tiny phonograph with a small turntable,
Her child toy that lights up her eyes.
As it spins and turns with its now blurred label., 
It plays the songs in Mother Goose guise.

She becomes mesmerized, unable to leave.
Her...

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Why it is so hard to be understood or is it just to blind to see, maybe it is just the 
way to be, why is it so hard to be understood, can u tell...

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I miss you

 

I miss your eyes looking into mine; you see my imperfections and love me anyway

 

I miss the fire you set to my soul when you kiss my lisps

 

I miss your...

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Coyness
Sheep for pets, I wimp amidst a modest plain of bushy regrets whose leaves of 
                   ...

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