Long Percolating Poems

Brownian motion writ large...
within small medium 
as light brainstorm doth 
hail forth the following poem.

Across the realm of gray matter
slowly percolating within tissue
composed of neuronal, glial 
and endothelial cells, and although 
there must be biological...

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Mine slovenly unkempt appearance spelled embarrassment

spurred by most recent therapy session 
with Renee Cardone
whereby thematic thread
stitched how yours truly sewed
coping modus operandi,
viz avoiding emotionally volatile situations
courtesy mine trademark signature reactions 
rather than be in compliance...

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Midtone grey surrounds what’s left of a man’s soul
Scenes of biblical abominations troll
Inky are the hellish horizons appalled 
An okay is needed for anything at all 
Manipulating truth determines your life
Erasing individuality is part of...

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As aspiration seeks to take its toll,
your mass flotilla salvaged sons of war.
‘Twas but a feat the angels will extol
though Satan’s army rallies at your door.
Your youthful fit have vowed to serve the Crown.
They muster...

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In a Stolen Moment
by Michael R. Burch

In a stolen moment,
when the clock’s hands complete their inevitable course
and sleep is the night’s dark spell,
I call it a curse,

seeking the force,
the font of candescent words, the electric...

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These are poems about war and defenses.



Defenses
by Michael R. Burch

Beyond the silhouettes of trees
stark, naked and defenseless
there stand long rows of sentinels:
these pert white picket fences.

Now whom they guard and how they guard,
the good Lord...

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The Bachelor Spectacular
by Michael R. Burch

One heart? Tossed aside.
The other? A bride’s.
In all his great wisdom, the bachelor decides.

Eeenie, mean-ie, mine-y, mo’,
one gal must stay and one must go.
If she hollers? That’s the show!

No heart...

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Grab Bag Poems and Epigrams

POEMS

Less Heroic Couplets: Dark Cloud, Silver Lining, Dupes
from “Love in the Time of the Coronavirus”
by Michael R. Burch

Every corona has a silver lining:
I’m too far away to hear your whining,
and despite...

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What The Roses Don’t Say
by Michael R. Burch

Oblivious to love, the roses bloom
and never touch ... They gather calm and still
to watch the busy insects swarm their leaves ...

They sway, bemused ... till rain falls...

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My harmony is the preserver of my banality, which, when shaken and stirred by the disturbers, pump up the mouth by Words, occasionally jargons. But having a very keen eye at my aloneness I safely...

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I had very little in common with the strangers I met on Clark street.                     ...

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This poem is in a style called haibun which uses prose to tell a story, with haiku places
within to bring the story deeper. The haiku must stand on it's own as well as fit into...

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No rhyme nor reason why
yours truly recalled how
me late mother
(earlier in her fitbit livingsocial years)
non verbally communicated disgust
(insync with audible sigh)
quite often ultimatums
blasting fulminating nauseating
scathing well nigh
she loosed loathing against
grungy looking son (guess who)

futilely escaped...

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Although yours truly modest,
     the only personal issue
     I will lightly boast about
constitutes lingering
self worthlessness bred
if not prior to first grade,
     than most...

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There’s a load of dust and sweat pulling my ole tired mussels 
           down
           These...

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Waking moments with the strong aroma of coffee percolating throughout the house, I arise.
Drifting through the morning mists, I find my way to the kitchen where the hearth-fire
embers, still warm from the night, glow orange...

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Inferiority complex viz mine (mien)

Although yours truly modest,
the only personal issue
I will lightly boast about
constitutes lingering

self worthlessness bred
if not prior to first grade,
than most definitely incipient,
academic deadlines

loomed large with dread
and exacerbated by procrastination
quickly adopted as...

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Epigrams V

Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do stars
applaud the glowworm’s stellar mimicry?
—Michael R. Burch



Teach me to love:
to fly beyond sterile Mars
to percolating Venus. 
—Michael R. Burch



Byron
was not a shy one,
as peacocks run.
—Michael R. Burch

When I...

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and Par-Policy:  Dump Rotted Produce…
and Pitch-Pit-Grain- Pro-Ruse

It Was Due To Prior-Parent’s Vain-Disobey, 
so They Diminished, That-Dare-Day…
The Delectable…
 and Passed Up The Palatable –
 Main… Held-Accountable
Course (so  not  hard !) 
But They Failed...

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Spring awakens life from winter tomb
The flowers and trees begin to bloom
There is freshness where once was gloom
The dew is like honey, moon’s tears, or liquid sunshine of mists from vacuum 

This is the year’s...

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Planting seeds of life - growing self awareness...
(Subtitled: kudos beloved Amelie Beth)

Dilly gents gal lore spellbinding
metaphorically exhuming, ferreting, gleaning...
insightful handy dandy blues clues
unearthing treasure trove motherlode,
(and father lode) eye opening discover re:
visa vis our family...

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Written: December 31, 2023, For Unseeking Seeker Contest
                   _____________________________________

“God within me is the enjoyer of the aroma
As...

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Seed - scattered strewn or downtrodden.
Grain stuck on passive flytrap mucus.
Wild life biomes ripe with  open sesame.
Frantic birth pangs stiffen their gestations as green  leaf ferments bubble underneath.
Mother of all wombs, diva pulse...

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How ideal to luxuriate
supposed divine right frill
maximizing climate control
with matter of fact bravado
creature comfort pang to fulfill
consequent flagrant portent

to exercise freewill
beware controlled environment
pays hefty bill
cracking heat as
temperature gets chill
cumulative destructive

ecological footprints generated,
thus advisable to swallow
figuratively...

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These days, you just gotta be so aware,
always on the alert ... busy looking around
Harm you might step into, so sniff the air ...
dog trouble’s out there laying snares down

Even when things appear harmless as...

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