Long Plum tree Poems

Grasses wilt:
the braking locomotive
grinds to a halt
—Yamaguchi Seishi, translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, fallen camellias,
if I were you,
I'd leap into the torrent!
—Takaha Shugyo, translation by Michael R. Burch

The first soft snow:
leaves of the awed jonquil
bow...

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Yosa Buson haiku translations

On the temple’s great bronze gong
a butterfly
snoozes.
?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hard to describe:
this light sensation of being pinched
by a butterfly!
?Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Not to worry...

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Edna Morris lived in the town of Shadow Fells, in rich green, hilly country,
With doting parents and sister Violet, plucking fruit from their plum tree.

Pretty Edna was twelve years old, but she and Violet played...

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HOMELESS POETRY

These are poems about the homeless and poems for the homeless.



Epitaph for a Homeless Child
by Michael R. Burch
		
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is...

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Are you the butterfly
while in my dreams
I flit after Soshi?
—Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It's not at all anxious to bloom,
the plum tree at my gate.
—Kobayashi Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The red...

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These are my modern English translations of haiku about plum blossoms, plums and plum trees. 

Picking autumn plums
my wrinkled hands
once again grow fragrant
—Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Clinging
to the plum tree:
one blossom's worth...

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Upon bitterly cold dawning hours of one January 2000 day
the Harns family desperately sought a place to live – “hay
there” Nelson Swartley (an independent realtor) 
politely responded bringing unwelcome news viz our sos re lay
informing...

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Jack Horner was an impish little boy, who lived on Cherry Orchard farm;
That produced varieties of fruit. For a mellowing sun, kept groves warm.

The Horners had always been a serious set-no nonsense, like spring rain;
And...

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When I was very young
All I really wanted
To be was an Indian.
My mother always read to me -
Stories of fairies and elves,
Of princesses and ogres, witches,
And brownies who did good deeds.
Poems, “Wynken, Blynken and Nod”,
“The...

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Little black beetle with glasses
                             sunshine through...

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It is hard to take back the things said
Hard for the storks hovering in the air to vanish beyond the longing of the times 
Once the bullet is extracted from the wound 
Do not throw...

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-
Windows thrown open on a sunny June morning  
Refreshing and uplighting like a sun flower's first captured vision
Breathe deep and absorb the sallowed air
A woodpecker knocks and signals that summer has sprouted at last

The...

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Weary... my footsteps reach a dark alley
as kohl light pushes stars into tender
tempest; notes from an old man's
weeping guitar choke my lungs droning, droning---
as if bitter bass of winds silences
my voice--- never to hear pang...

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On a pile of fragrant petals,
I found a small bird nest.
It had fallen from the plum tree 
And settled there to rest.

The blue eggs were all unbroken,
Petals had softened fall.
Mother bird was loudly chirping,
Hovering over...

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Although the Santa Rosa plum tree took a beating by the bugs this Spring,                     ...

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I was despondent that I had to leave them.
Moving two thousand miles away, it was
unlikely that I would ever see them again.
They were trees, but it seemed somehow
They knew that we would be forever apart.

The...

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When God doesn't send rain directly to my brown lawn, the lawn looks to me
Whether he knows it or not, I am one one God's earthly watering instruments
I am one of many of God's creatures...

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In the center of the city,
There was a plum tree
Whose flowers were in bloom;
White and rose
They attracted the attention
Of whoever walked by;
In the morning a girl,
That was walking by the tree,
Took her camera and began...

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Enchantment of magic’s sweet passion has bound me
With minutes and hours I now must reclaim;
Spellbound, love calls to the spirits around me
And drifts into dreams at the sound of his name.

The breath of his memory...

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The plum tree over the Zen pond,
reflects in vivid purple colors in the pond,
The scattered colored autumn leaves,
swim in the water with colorful carps with perpetual ease.

The optimist sees the sky is the limit and...

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Birthday Party 

Wolves and foxes had promised me not to fight on my birthday and 
I made meaty cakes just for them; But black ravens I had not invited, 
came too, egged them on, while...

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I go to bed at three,
I usually wait beneath the plum tree,
That tree is useless like my name,
You and I are in a blissful game!

You are too sweet for me,
Never lived inside me as if...

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Quote: "In zen we don't find the answers. We lose the questions." ..zen philosophy

Beneath the plum tree by the Zen pond's side, 
Its vivid hues reflected in the water's glide, 
Autumn leaves, a kaleidoscope in...

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A giant road is emerging. My sandy path 
is ready to be swallowed. Gambol, amble, 

ramble, saunter, stride… My way knows
a variety of my gaits. This is a stamped 

path in my gene as an...

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Line of inquiry:
“since thoughts speak in past tenses,
drop mind, rely on senses,
embracing and releasing,
pain pangs and pleasure pleasing” by Unseeking Seeker

I can see God’s hand in all around me:
the sweetness of dawn’s pink; the dusk’s...

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