Long Mystical Poems

“SUMMER”



Where 
has Summer 
gone?

The world 
has lost 
Summer

Sweet 
little 
dream

missing 

all those other 
beautiful  
small dreams 

seen as toys
small and 
inconsequential 

casually tossed aside, 
disposable play,
things

pure shining lights
smiling eyes once so bright, 
switched off,

'neath...

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“Éagmais croí a dhíscaoileadh ar gach eagla.
Faoi dhíon taobh istigh de na blianta seo.
Fanacht i bhfianaise, a dhíscaoileadh ar gach eagla.
Ós rud é go ndearnadh tú a chaitheamh.
Briseadh an tost seo”



"An Bee Cailleach"


She lives to...

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Not to play any blame game,
in this our new co-evolutionary capacity
for LeftBrained Language CommunioNation
long become YangDominant associated
with monotheistic 'civilization',
aristocratic anthrosupremacism,
including Earth's newer colonizing history
of evolution by Orthodox Moral Elitism.

Processes of GodWord supremacy
became belligerently associated 
with...

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With my Uyghur poetry translations I am trying to build awareness of the plight of Uyghur poets who are being sent to Chinese "reeducation" concentration camps.

Elegy
by Perhat Tursun
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Asylum seekers, will...

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The soul of the earth is wrapped up inside
And the spirit of God is walking beside me
The universe rests upon my shoulder
And I can feel its power moving all over
embracing the soul of man
And causing...

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The Song of Amergin: Modern English Translations

The Song of Amergin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am the sea breeze
I am the ocean wave
I am the surf's thunder
I am the stag of the seven tines
I am...

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As to the this and the that and the how and the why,
    I pass no judgement on the tale at hand.
And leave it to scribes to much later decide
  ...

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Perhat Tursun

Perhat Tursun (1969-) is one of the foremost living Uyghur language poets, if he is still alive. Born and raised in Atush, a city in China's Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, Tursun began writing poetry...

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The greatest performance of my life.  
Howard’s proud piece de resistance award  on Poetry Nook for my magnum opus “Rush Amid The Rapids” in their daily member section.
After endless hours of toil, tribulation,...

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It was September 
Of one thousand 
Nine hundred seven
The end of summer
With apples lying thickly
Under the apple trees
And the smell of Autumn
Covering the grass
Filled with ripe yellow
And orange squash
He was born in a little
Wooden house...

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PRELUDE.
When the sky and world are dark no sounds are heard in the woods. Perhaps the scrabbling of night creatures on the hunt fo food. But no sound of woodpeckers ra ta tatting, bird song...

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Dear John,

All day
yesterday
I loaded up with a cascading river
of mixed anxiety and anticipation
about what to safely and kindly,
transparently and vulnerably
compassionately, so non-violently, share,
what to communicate;

Which narrative tributaries to choose
within this vast spacetime stream
of choices
directions
felt depressions...

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The King of the Castle 



Said I’m but a child
Afraid of the world outside 
Afraid to run wild and to  be proud
Of the freedom it provides
Afraid of love 
Afraid of the dark 

Said you...

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Prelude to what…..

I see you,  /  you / yes, come into my…… 
laboratory of alchemist mystical languaging.
where arsenic spills into the whirlpool of thought 
and savage syntax shatter like glass on concrete.

Where Titans...

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Stood I there, that last day,
On an iron bridge...
An aqueduct by design,
Where, looking dreamily out over
The Ernes Lower Lough,
My compressed shadow 
Momentarily paused -
To contently recline:
Amidst coy Junes radiant beams 
of sweet benign!
All was stilled,...

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"Slow Gin and Astral Conversations"



A maze me?

I’m the architect 
of my own destiny
he beguiled her 
incessantly 
from the depths of 
his bottled up Carceri
she knew him 
before he became 
a complex 
well-hidden 
Piranesi
twixt your world
and...

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Immortal Al, the poet. 
Yes, and don’t he know it 
And forget me not, his imaginary friend, Mortal Lee, that’s me! 
He has a Masters in Authorship. Me, his penmanship. 
He’s not just any or...

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Georg Cantor. Chasing infinity. I must!

He was a very lonely man
Tortured by desire to understand
The world and the God’s mind 
Like a fearless seasoned sailor 
He embarked an elegant boat 
Of extreme mental endeavor 
With...

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Ours was daily mysterious,
sometimes near mystical, 
rapture;
a sensual yet platonic
dorm-mate love affair,
within the only male grad student corridor
at SFSU.

He was the presumably straight Vietnam veteran
southern white good ol' boy,
athletically studying Japanese,
with a gentle passion for...

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Everybody moved out of the country to get a taste of the shining city
Ripe banana, ripe plums, are perishing in Uncle Sam’s broiling sun
I cannot stand the scorching heat that is swelling up from the...

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I knew that  I had to go somewhere but I did not know where 
I knew I had to go somewhere that was not  very far from here
So I  put on my...

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“I’m reluctant to share my secret, but being we are the closest of friends, I will share my secret with you. But before I do I’m going to ask you to pinkie swear that you...

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Splat

Explosions do not always signify combustion but often combustion arrives after many years of layering the layers and tightly packing. Thus meaning that a fried piece of fat could slip and burst out of the...

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act i:
walk down the strip, the neon lights casting a gaudy glow on the fray. i meet my dealer, a facilitator of welcome distraction, and we exchange nods. i take a bump, and the rush...

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The Enchanted City of Dual Realms
In the sprawling labyrinth of concrete towers and spectral glass,
where skyscrapers, like ancient obelisks, pierce the celestial veil with unyielding ambition,
serpentine rivers of fortune murmur in arcane tongues, their secrets...

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