Long Merest Poems

The Original Sin: Rhyming Haiku!
 
Haiku
should never rhyme:
it’s a crime!
-Michael R. Burch
 
The herons stand,
sentry-like, at attention ...
rigid observers of some unknown command.
-Michael R. Burch
 
Late
fall;
all
the golden leaves turn black underfoot:
soot
-Michael R. Burch
 
Dry leaf...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems V

Poetry
by Michael R. Burch

Poetry, I found you
where at last they chained and bound you;
with devices all around you
to torture and confound you,
I found you—shivering, bare.

They had shorn your raven hair
and taken both...

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The Making of a Poet
by Michael R. Burch

While I don’t consider “Poetry” to be my best poem—I wrote the first version in my teens—it’s a poem that holds special meaning for me; I call it...

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State of the Art (II)

These are my "ars poetica" poems about the art and craft of writing poetry. 



What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch

What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer 
~~~~underwater~~~~
watching the shoreline...

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The State of the Art (I)
by Michael R. Burch

Has rhyme lost all its reason
and rhythm, renascence?
Are sonnets out of season
and poems but poor pretense?

Are poets lacking fire,
their words too trite and forced?
What happened to desire?
Has...

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A Vain Word
by Michael R. Burch

Oleanders at dawn preen extravagant whorls
as I read in leaves’ Sanskrit brief moments remaining
till sunset implodes, till the moon strands grey pearls
under moss-stubbled oaks, full of whispers, complaining
to the darkening...

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(4.)
As Midnight Hours Call In More Darkened Hosts

Slow flows a river of doubt and regret
foaming its swirling eddies and sad pits
cavernous echoes one can not forget
nor withstand jagged cuts and hardest hits!

As sun retreats and...

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From blank screen to logorrhea, I write with confused adumbrations

Methinks hmm, perhaps
I admittedly self plagiarize and quite aware
aforementioned amalgamated, conglomerated, 
fabricated, jerry rigged, and organized 
eye gripping titled
poem already aired a year plus ago,
though revisiting...

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Haiku Variations
by Michael R. Burch

This is a poem composed of haiku-like stanzas:


Variations on the Seasons I
by Michael R. Burch

Lift up your head
dandelion,
hear spring roar!

How will you tidy your hair
this near
summer?

Leave to each still night
your lightest...

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From Blank Screen To Logorrhea, I Write With Confused Adumbrations

Methinks hmm, perhaps
aforementioned conglomerated eye gripping titled,
poem already aired
though revisiting said theme
downplayed as thoughts blare
though similar content
invariably communicated,
sans trademark Pi Seine fishtail career
as applies to other...

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Preface preceding promiscuous philandering peccadillos
undermining energy and time not spent with missus
and mother of our precious progeny,
whereby, yours truly sought, (somewhat assertively, modestly,
and zestfully) to elicit – illicit prurient heterosexual predilections
before dark shadow of guilt...

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Argh! Oh no for dog's sake...
Uneasy thoughts commander in chief...

Will be elected president
(putative tsar of United States
forever long he lives)
until... he abdicates faux
official crown to Jared Kushner
will be handily elected
Tuesday November 3rd, 2020.

Said foreboding intimation
insinuates,...

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It was jazzy June and green butterflies, filled the air with magic.
Then butterscotch days were long, until the purple sunset panic.

Sunny June, when music festivals, were staged in shady parks;
While in treetops purple martins, warbled...

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***********
The Epic Vow, The Long Journey, And Destination Found

		  Her vow was to remain alive ...
stoke furiously the aching fires
not weep tears that splattered ancient grounds
no longer a vassal of state, nor apathy chained
walk...

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Le Balcon (The Balcony)
Charles Baudelaire
trans. Michael R. Burch

Paramour of memory, ultimate mistress,
source of all pleasure, my only desire;
how can I forget your ecstatic caresses,
the warmth of your breasts by the roaring fire,
paramour of memory, ultimate...

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Hiroshima Poems I

Let Us Be Midwives!
by Hiroshima survivor Sadako Kurihara
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Midnight...
the basement of a shattered building...
atomic bomb survivors sniveling in the darkness...
not a single candle between them...
the odor of blood...
the stench...

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Penned like cattle, as if chattel,
     cages rattle, sounds of brattle,
          no more tattle, keen for battle.
Be free, my brothers!

The cause is...

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They will tell you that love will change your life
That just a little pinch of romance
Can make your spirit dance
And that your heart can reach a higher plain
Where nothing seems quite the same
They tell you...

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Poems about Poets

Elemental
by Michael R. Burch

for and after 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...

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The future will bring unexpected things,
A woeful tragedy our heart to sting,
And though our plans be laid so well,
A power, from where we cannot tell,
Moves, or turns circumstance around,
Here giving joy there bringing a frown.

An...

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What Is The Reason For Creation?



The future will bring unexpected things,

 A woeful tragedy our heart to sting,

 And though our plans be laid so well,

 A power, from where we cannot tell,

 Moves, or...

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‘ Does  East  Meet  West ? … ’ ( A Galileolian  Moment)
 ( Metaphysical Poem  # 6 )


Does East and West, At One Moment Meet
Somewhere, at a Rendezvous Discreet ?
…...

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At Once Into Blind Empty Space, At Once Into Her Arms



How can it be
Something so unwittingly described
Can break me
Remake me
Turn me to the sorriest of fates
And still fill my heart
With this happiness of late

How can...

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The sun shines through my window though dulled somewhat by a glossy barrier. A barrier of slight ocean blue meant to bring a coolness to this room. A coolness and a sense of privacy. Privacy...

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There was once a king who decided that for him - beauty was silence. 

 He issued a decree that all sound was banished henceforth and that his land would forever more be as silent...

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