Long Palm Poems

“Come on, let's get introduced to my play mate in a palm.
Linda, these are Joshua’s true other selfs.” 
Lelia emitting a peculiar chuckle.
A comic situation arose where I changed my voice for each of my...

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"Who Put Luebella down the Wych Elm?"

There are rumours
about me, some 
come seeking me
with their geiger counters
and ouji boards
with their heart 
shaped planchettes

unanswered questions
in the woods, crackling
within the sounds of leaves
invisible dead things speaking 
underfoot...

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Driven insane by sorrow, there’s no tomorrow to cure it…
Honestly, I’m in vain and so guilty…feeling way less than legit…
I’m holding you close in my optimism and its memories along with it
Torn apart by negative...

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I listened to his heart profusely, 
For a beat like his was much to ponder
I often wondered, his thoughts, and,
A light in me knew, with wretched wonderment
What the whispers in his mutterings meant to me

They...

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World's Longest Love Poem (second edition)


Title: My love my all

Edited by Izunna Okafor


Editor's Note:

Out of their ardency, eighteen poets and poetry lovers identified with the need to give the 2020 Valentine celebration a poetic taste...

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Donald impersonating
a nice guy publisher right 
after my accident traumatic 
brain injury car bomb attack 
he followed me to book stores 
ice cream shops art museum 
obsessed with my poetry my 
manuscript i was writing...

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Come, You
by Rainer Maria Rilke
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

This was Rilke’s last poem, written ten days before his death. He died open-eyed in the arms of his doctor on December 29, 1926, in the...

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"The Swoon Hypothesis" - Part 2



Arimathea stands next to you and I on the deck, soon we are back in Nazareth, you press into my palm, 
“A very rare Dubunni coin” you say - on...

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(His Version of Break My Heart)

I have each piece, each shattered part of your heart that I broke in two, I feel every ounce of pain, every emotion, just as you
I would never take this...

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“Now behind the eyes and secrets of the dreamers in the streets rocked to sleep by the sea, see the titbits and topsyturvies, bobs and buttontops, bags and bones, ash and rind and dandruff and...

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“le livre bleu” 

Terabytes.
lonely poets, writers, 
musicians and artists play here,
they wear masks that cover
vermillion dripping smiles
over sharp little wolverine teeth,
they drown their sorrows in their muses -
contemporary little monsters – Still Life, 
they call...

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Do you remember?
We lay in the moonlight, exhausted and content,
Moments from perfection, skin glistening with moisture,
Salty and sweet from love - love so amazing
That it stunned us every time ...
Always better than before, and always...

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FIRE! UPDATED 1998 IN 2021 BY COVERUPS PAYOFFS
GARGANO FAKED HIS OWN DEATH MEMORIAL DAY 1999
THE CAR BOMB THAT ENDED MY LIFE AT LEAST AS I'VE KNOWN IT ON THIS DAY THE SKY WAS SO BLUE...

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THIS DATA BREACH ALLOWED HACKERS TO STEAL PERSONAL INFORMATION ACCORDDING TO THIS I HAVE SEVERAL COMPANIES CEO FOR CRHIST SAKE ON DISABILITY IN HIDING FROM TWO ABUSIVE SPOUSE HOWEVER THIS CRUELTY HAS GATHERED FALSE INFORMATION...

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Mary Gargano the key player in covering the drug monies and drugs that ran from Milwaukee pitstop in Chicago Antioch Danville Marietta Georgia straight to palm beach blvd. Ciro Gargano his business partner Hayes stopping...

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"Hey, you philosophysing Hindu. Give me a break, Buddy. I was just pulling your leg. [...] I want the rest of the story. Really, I mean it.” Theson said nothing. [...] “I can see you’re...

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According to Larry Hoover inmates are forced to type intimidating letters to fbi informants after my face was blown up with a car bomb the prison system began flying kites after all it was clear...

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Bharathidasan’s “Pulikku nay enta muulai” (To the Tiger, the Dog knows no safe dwelling!) translated by T. Wignesan 

Bharathidasan (1891-1964) was a self-proclaimed disciple of the eminent Brahmin poet: Cuppiramania Bharathiyar (cf. two poems of...

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Pellucid pachyderms wade across
the purpling River Manjees
and Tozzath watches from the bank, 
the seat of his maroon pantaloons soaked with mud,
his nostrils flaring with the fragrance of ombadalias,
whose lacey petals flutter
like the wings of long-dead...

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SEX ON A CLOUD

                               ...

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In a small village in the green valleys of the Peak District, Sarah gave birth to a son, after a decade of trying for a child with her husband, Peter B Perfekt.  It was...

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Oh well I got an angry email to begin my day
Because of my last post on the Jabidah thing yesterday
Galit sa akin but greeted me with Assalamu alaykum.
And kung personal Moro friends ko naman ito...

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Such Tenderness
by Michael R. Burch

for the mothers of Gaza

There was, in your touch, such tenderness—as
only the dove on her mildest day has,
when she shelters downed fledglings beneath a warm wing
and coos to them softly, unable...

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The Pain of Love
by Michael R. Burch 
 
for T. M.
 
The pain of love is this:
the parting after the kiss;
 
the train steaming from the station
whistling abnegation;
 
each interstate’s bleak white bar
that vanishes under...

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The large, bright Winter moon shone it's heavenly light over and out amongst the snow-covered city. The city was large, the city was noisy. It was midnight and the bustling still urged on. People ached...

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