Long Milling Poems

The emotional, mental and spiritual fallout courtesy Colt Gray

Apalachee High School,
located in Winder, Georgia
witnessed an active shooter,
whereby the alleged lone gunman
(actually just a teenager of fourteen years)
killed four people and injured nine more
the latter hospitalized with...

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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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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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Wovoka in the Feverland

In the Dying-Grass Moon came another winter to claim the old and sick.
This was when the first messengers came
To the desolation known as Pine Ridge.
They came riding in at the end of...

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Dedicated to the 2000 National College Football Champions, the Oklahoma Sooners 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Over fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan
Watched and reveled in their glories, every one;
But there’s no more glorious “Sooner Magic”...

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After enjoying a pleasant walk, I then spent an hour at a park,
And I relished the dulcet sounds, of cheery airborne skylarks.

The blooms were so lovely, all sultry in the fervid sunshine,
And the hummingbirds were...

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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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The Deception of Free Verse: Dreams I, Translation of Etiemble’s L’imposture du vers libre by T. Wignesan 

(From René Etiemble’s only poetry collection: le Coeur et la cendre: soixante ans de poésie (the heart and...

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In a phalanx of four: Peter, Lisa, Dave, and I, descended a waterfall of marble stairs - pilgrims to another time - as if we’d punched through a wormhole.

It’s a five-star bash at the palace...

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6 miles up river Arikara are encountered,
they are a people of amenable disposition and are agrarians,
they chuckle with sympathy as we inform them of our grizzly confrontation
and they tell us that disease had forced them...

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Diary Notes: Lamentable laissez-faire

                     …the lêche cul is
back
       ...

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Awaking blithe each morning,
with eyes upon the World,
I wonder, are we mourning
with ebon flags unfurled –
or are they but a warning,
some draped like snakes and curled,
stray stars and stripes adorning,
sent from the netherworld.

I wander through...

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 [Poem read at Sekoto’s inhumation ceremony at the Neuilly-sur-Marne-93 Cemetery, near Paris. Channel 4 in London recorded the reading as they did the funeral rites in the presence of his close relatives come from...

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A Night on the Road         

It was a dark and stormy night, as he rode around the mob.
The bridle reins held loosely, the night horse knew his...

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My name is Devi, a foolish name really for it means Angel, and I certainly am not. The city of Phnom Penh had been our home, father was a professor at The Royal University. I...

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It was a party like most, I guess
And not a “fun” one, I must confess
But our hostess I adored
And I just couldn’t say: “I’m bored”,

So, I milled around, and said “Hello”
And tried to fake a...

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              The Night Soil Man

			I

		Nothing sticks to-get-her like turds
             ...

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...But I heard a crack in the distance,
then came a man’s shrill, painful yell,
I saw Tak go down in the plants,
his ankle was bent, none-to-well,
I could see it must hurt like hell.

We were up in...

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The trail was long and very dusty
great clouds churned up by hooves
of the vast herd being wrangled on
300 more miles of eating their dust

Bandana's tightly wrapped round faces
cries of "get up there" ringing out
bawling calves...

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Fabel38 
Fabel38 
 
 
Pheonix 
 
 
CharlaxFabels 
 
 “Pheonix is experimental courses involving the release of prisoners into society”: 
Professor Hardon was now speaking to his children “he was thinking of them 
already...

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Haunted...
glowing foot falls on the dusted wooden planks cross the bridge
following them 
I swing around enormous trees 
skirt quickly...trying to catch up

were we holding hands as we walked
...did we hold hands?
I can't recall
but the muster...

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The Stop & Shop strike v. Game of Thrones. 
In Game what’s not made plain
is the condition of the people
compared with warriors and queens.
There’s no mention of land-clearance, tree-felling, 
pruning, chopping, digging, hoeing, 
weeding, branding,...

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14: If the soul meets death when Sattva prevails, then it goes to the pure regions of those who are seeking truth.
15: If a man meets death in a state of Rajas, he is reborn...

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A Fugitive
Bus Stop Overland Park, Kansas   7:35 PM

A furrowed brow and furtive eyes
that refuse to engage another,
striding quickly through the crowd
and putting people between him
and the police car.
He is hardly the drifter or...

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