Long Plied Poems

These are peace poems, prayer poems, hymns and lullabies I have written for family, friends and the world over the years ...

Peace Prayer
by Michael R. Burch

for Jim Dunlap

Be calm.
Be still.
Be silent, content.

Be one with the...

Read More

The Moon as a Metaphor for Your Mouth
by Michael R. Burch

When I was closest to love, it did not seem
real at all, but a thing of such tenuous sweetness
it might dissolve in my mouth
like a...

Read More

A Vain Word
by Michael R. Burch

Oleanders at dawn preen extravagant whorls
as I read in leaves’ Sanskrit brief moments remaining
till sunset implodes, till the moon strands grey pearls
under moss-stubbled oaks, full of whispers, complaining
to the darkening...

Read More

 A French ‘Indianist’ Doctor: A Tribute to a Die-hard Humanist
                         ...

Read More

The three enigmas of Turandot

The well of souls run deep in fabled lands of old.
Of China's ancient dynasty and the lost Great Tartary, 
a ballad of love and loss that must be told.

The Emperor's daughter,...

Read More

These are poems about Ann Rutledge and her romantic relationship with Abraham Lincoln. 

Winter Thoughts of Ann Rutledge
by Michael R. Burch

Winter was not easy,
nor would the spring return.
I knew you by your absence,
as men are...

Read More

Joyful music filled the village
when mother’s barren womb gave birth. 
Born to end Philistine pillage, 
and fill sad, anxious hearts with mirth.

No wine or product of the vine,
should pass your palate when you dine.
No razor...

Read More

Whar art thou dame of my dream?

Eagerness readily overtakes me prior 
to succumbing to nightly slumber. 

Tis boot a blink when eyelids become relaxed 
adrift abed invariably occurs counting backwards  
from one hundred –...

Read More

April fools' occurs first day of fourth month

Ordinarily all manner 
of tomfoolery doth abound,
celebrated for countless centuries 
by different cultures, 
though exact origins remain 
shrouded in mystery,
nevertheless quasi holiday of sorts 
begat courtesy primitive precursor...

Read More

A sodden dreg with wooden leg is dancing for a dime,

to sacred psalms and other balms, all ticking with the time.

He’s 22, he’s almost through, he’s melted in his prime,

his bane is firm, the canker...

Read More

Unquotable quotes: The How of Democratic Kill – XXXIX, Part One

Born in 1868, Alexei Maximovich PESHKOV, better known as MAXIM GORKY and hailed as the chief proponent of Soviet literature, the veritable champion of the...

Read More

Inside A ‘72 Econoline

This old green van has a musty smell to it,
Like a pair of sweaty rancid socks
Mixed with half-empty beer cans.
It’s a banged up thing, this ’72 Econoline.
Scratches and mysterious dents 
Cover its...

Read More

It feels good to put the axe down and head in from the scrub
to spend a piece of time with mates on Fridays in the pub
and yarn about the week that’s gone, with an elbow...

Read More

(huff fin Bach seat driver)...

Aye kin recall when both offspring
     (yay high) as a small child
and now ma deux daughters
     (fledgling young chicks
    ...

Read More

Crocheting needles waved her fingers from a self-disclosed mind

Texture and pattern set lines like predictive text and autocorrect

Wool over her eyes would know how to stitch up her soul-scape

No matter whether blanket or poncho woollen...

Read More

When Sid first met me he laughed 
Sat in his seat of an old Ford 135 
Tractor red rust and wet sticking mud
Swathed in a great green rain coat
A friendly laugh he said
“Bet you wish...

Read More

(i)
The earth is magnanimous to providing accommodation to all inhabitants
The stars in the cloudy sky are in appreciation
as they move about its very spacious aerial apartment
The trees show their gratitude
as they wave their effects of...

Read More

Nineteen Seventy-Seven Alumni

Some conspiratorial and malevolent force
     must be fast at work
     cranking chronology dial
an extraterrestrial force

     donning, housing, loosing,
   ...

Read More

I am a wood carver by instinct and intuition;
I am not a wood carver by trade or profession.
I carve the likenesses of things into something whole,
Into the shapeless wood, I carve the essence of its...

Read More

Telling "White Lies"

My mother got born November
thirteenth, nineteen hundred thirty five
within poverty stricken household
of Canarsie, Brooklyn, the youngest
(most mollycoddled) of four siblings,
experienced grinding poverty, no
matter maternal grandfather (Moishe
Kuritsky), a tailor he lacked drive
(and felt neutral...

Read More

The Ghost Train

North Wind, it was a howling, the sky was black as guilt
Malevolent the sheen, where upon her  moonbeams spilt
Through the murky distance, her belly glowing bright
Roaring down the line, she was roaring...

Read More

I
Anchored on a sun filtered shore 
Upon rocks which lay the days of yore 
In swirling pristine aquas of alluring calm 
Let it serenade heal my bruised palm

To chronicle tales of my hearts longings 
And...

Read More

(Dedication: For Michael Zachary, my son)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Sense this knowing: can the blind see?
Homer still sings fond tragedy.


Troy was a thought where siege was laid,
A war well fought as heroes paid.


Love and hate doomed to mortal rage,
Ten...

Read More

It squeaked as it slowly rolled out the door
Trundled out the rusty gate
Over the sunken wooden bridge 
and onto the sandy sidewalk.
The daily trudge had begun.

Nestled and nurtured within were the lives of her family
And...

Read More

The Bass Strait sealing rush began in eighteen-o-three,
where at least a dozen vessels were wrestling with the sea,
for the China trade was booming, for the want of skins and oils.
This was the first real export,...

Read More