Long Pavements Poems

Unquotable quotes: Fat People – XXIX

(I know this piece sounds mean and cruel but as every single parent must have experienced, this is also the expression of utter exasperation, and perhaps there’s also the slightest...

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Unquotable quotes: Paris, the last week of the August reprieve – XXXV Part Two
                 II

The first signs reek tell-tale
Buffer-to-buffer...

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Unquotable quotes: Paris, the last week of the August reprieve – XXXV
 Part One                     ...

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"Free Falling"



You have to believe in Magic
to believe in the poetry of You

If you don’t believe in Magic
you are nothing but a black line 

bleeding to the right creative, 
without left margin

for logical analysis,
you’re fixed...

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Catalytic cascade of mirror gleam relish on sleep encrusted eyes,
such sylvan surreal therapy aligned to  dulcet bird lilt,
garnish to the willow weave wayfarer of iridescent poetic inkling,
vernal vivid verse drought a derelict damnation for...

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I circled around the park three times and continue journeying towards the west
On my first cycle I met a couple sitting on the corner watching me like big brother
The young man shouted at me in...

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When at five-thirty
In the rubbed-eye haziness
Of ferreting lonesome night walks
The camera-eye refugee
Asleep in the half wakefulness
Of the hour
Peers out of his high turbanned sockets:
Hyde Park's through road links
London's diurnally estranged couple -
The Arch and Gate.

...

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We came walking blind bends at dusk, 
An overhanging fig picked fresh.
No pavements, just a nervous trust 
that drivers would skirt our single line.

Hugging the roadside with torches lit, 
Phones swung glowing to the ground...

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I came back to you in September
you were quiet then
still,
like you used to be,
when men were men
and I was just a child

When the smell of the fish docks
mingled well with the stench of the slaughter...

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VII.

An involuntary shudder as I watch her 
Spread                           ...

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Just the very thought of him, like an artist’s stroke of his
Paintbrush, sealed a promise of a lifetime of tomorrows.
I finally had found myself and, knew my purpose in life.

The instant you were within sight,...

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SPRINGTIME MEMORIES



Mountain sentinels
By ancient town;
Clear waters cascade


Cobblestone streets
Winding pavements;
Trade offerings buzz


Fertile plains
Crystal clear waters;
Shady trees guard


Treasure-hunting stroll...
Through Lijiang Old Town;
Curiosity detours


So many things to see
Pleasant fare tempting;
Buying spree bargains


Artisans at work
Township flings open trade;
Silver metal...

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Our cold crisp air augurs an early snow before Thanksgiving. I need to look for my warm fur-lined gloves. The snow tires are heaven knows where in our cluttered garage, but they must be searched...

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molten times, volcanising immensity, vast plateau
  belly-belching landform
  oceans, shallow seas and lakes swell up and down
  land-bridging, submerging
  any one place moving astride, stutter-shifting
  continental drifting world
  climate...

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Cluttering above huddled rooftops
Of sprawling villages 
And shy provincial towns;
Rising sharply amidst swooping
Declinations;
Hesitating when gathering at the
Tangled woodland perimeters of
Outlying greenland bounds,
Jostled apex ridges detach among
Themselves...
When habitually roused from early
Mornings
Newly awakened sounds.

Electrical milk floats whir...

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This is about San Francisco,1967

Oh, yes that city had its own song!
It was a siren's call that sang;
"Here, Panagiota, is where you do belong!"
And my dearest poets, the sirens 
call was not wrong.

It sang a...

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POETIZED BABIES

While beauty sleeps, there are souls upon this earth
that have never known her in her full beauty.
Many seasons have passed and her eyes are still shut.
She is hiding behind pavements of tar and cement.
She...

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(A lone voice whispers)

 I can still subliminally feel 
All those sad fears

Rhythmically swirling like sharpened kitchen knives
Within all your world crazy choices

Which cuts me so deep
Like cold Tamahagane steel

Above all this new
Life's 
Now old...

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Il pleure dans mon coeur (“It rains in my heart”)
by Paul Verlaine
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It rains in my heart
As it rains on the town;
Heavy languor and dark
Drenches my heart.

Oh, the sweet-sounding rain
Cleansing pavements...

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strife riven island corner, rough hewn by rival visitation
  vexed, looking in, looking out, on the edge of places to go
  thrang in thrall of other realms, banners furling, batons flung
  across...

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Bob, the cat, lives in the room number 13 of the sixth avenue.

He likes fish, rollercoaster, ice cream cones and Sunday papers.

He's an artist. He's a painter. When people ask him about his latest work,...

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While Beauty Sleeps


While Beauty sleeps, there are souls upon this earth that have never known her. Many seasons have passed and her eyes are still shut. She is hiding behind pavements of tar and cement....

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Far from the madding crowd
I treasure the myths you gone through
Once I walk down the streets of legends
Even the weeping dusts reminds me of 
Bloods, who immolated their lives to you.
 
Oh Calcutta! You live...

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between new nightmares
and day dreams
of a better life
lay reality resurfaced
tight with taut brutality
unspeakable thoughts drift
down through time's flash
triggered not there
not then
but now and here
her mind digs through fear

as she sinks 
slight form down
crisp skirt's rustle...

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I'll find a  remedy for my broken heart.
A round of applause, you've melt my heart to stone.
I couldn't make you feel my love, from the start.
I'll find someone like you, I'll search for a...

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