Long Propped up Poems

To a Daughter More Precious than Gems
by Otomo no Sakanoue no Iratsume
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Heaven's cold dew has fallen—
and thus another season arrives.
Oh, my child living so far away,
do you pine for me...

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"Candy Girl" - 2



He had been watching her from the far end of the Ice Bar, where he was sitting propped up on an ice ledge which was cushioned in plush Reindeer hide and Yak...

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I am not done yet until all of you speak the truth, I am not done yet until I obtain justice for my brutal youth, you kick me around like ball and blame me for...

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Woven are these pages in poetic verse,
With bare threads of our deepest feelings,
You will find laughter, tears and remorse,
and words of wisdom, prayer and healings. 
Krish Radhakrishna

The words herein form an anthology of love
From the...

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This is my modern English translation of Paul Valéry's poem “Le cimetière marin” (“The graveyard by the sea”). Valéry was buried in the seaside cemetery evoked in his best-known poem. From the vantage of the...

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Alone, surrounded by seventeen million humans who call New York home
In a rut, depressed, searching in pain and in vain for hope

A crisp fall day, I venture north to play
The Adirondack valley, mountains borne from...

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THE DEATH OF A YOUNG KING . . .

Eight of the strongest and, bravest the of warriors; were collected in all
Each chosen for their strength; each of the same height, and, their gaul

Their task was...

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I held my arms, sleeping, around her breasts, bending, allowing myself to fall, the ghosting, dark wake, the fiery sands burned by a storm of thorn trees, burned by the march of sea and the...

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JACOB’S LADDER

News is out; Armageddon is upon us, and it is time for all of us to go 
The world's armies have all gathered, and they are putting on a show
 
Heaven is calling and,...

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i held my arms, sleeping, around her breasts, bending, allowing myself to fall, the ghosting, dark wake, the fiery sands burned by a storm of thorn trees, burned by the march of sea and the...

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It is a witchy tradition to pass down your first broom to
The next generation, but poor dear sweet Mable inherited an eye 
Sore from her elder granny, the handle topped end was crooked
In a twisted...

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The room is an object in its entirety.
Singular in form and mind,
and multiple in purpose and pleasure.
It is a secret capsule.
Though it was once adorned with bright reds and greens and plated golds
that climbed up...

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Like an allspice incensed quartet chorus,
the spirit of the living Word unveils before us.
Holy foundational page corners turn
in cardinal winds as red letters churn,

proclaiming the Gospel to each earthly corner,
through bolted borders, even reaching the...

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Smoke rising from the ground
Obscures the pools of blood
Where soldiers uttering sounds
Lie dying in the mud.
Horses neighing, running scared
In horror find no end
Of battleground that's shared
The crimson life of men.
A bugle lies still tightly clenched
In...

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Shy Julie - A Punters Nightmare Part 1

They fancied themselves "Gurus of racing", this Ron and his best mate John
So they sat down one day in an easy relaxed way
And mused on the pros and...

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Dad keeps pestering me.
   He wants to go see Al and he wants me to go along.
"Come on; it'll only take a little while," he coaxes.
   The thought of the old...

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HOME
They picked the stones and threw them at her,
She tried to beg but nooo they had gone deaf,
So in pain she picked herself up and ran,
Ran on her feeble weak legs.
Their laughter followed her…chasing her...

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Poems for Poets VIII


Fireflies
thinking to illuminate the darkness?
Poets!
—Michael R. Burch


BeMused
by Michael R. Burch

You will find in her hair
a fragrance more severe
than camphor.

You will find in her dress
no hint of a sweet
distractedness.

You will find in her...

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POEMS ABOUT POOL SHARKS

Shark
by Michael R. Burch

They are all unknowable,
these rough pale men—
haunting dim pool rooms like shadows,
propped up on bar stools like scarecrows,
nodding and sagging in the fraying light...

I am not of them,
as I...

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Talent
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin Nicholas Roberts

I liked the first passage
of her poem: where it led
(though not nearly enough
to retract what I said.)
Now the book propped up here
flutters, scarcely half read.
It will keep.
Before sleep,
let me...

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What do the dodgers dodge? 
Remind me to lace up my socks, 
Put on my boots and be born again.
Trained and ready, steady, go! 
An old man’s antlers in the rutt,
Dangling keys riding on hips...

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What do the dodgers dodge? 
Remind me to lace up my socks, 
Put on my boots and be born again.
Trained and ready, steady, go! 
An old man’s antlers in the rutt,
Dangling keys riding on hips...

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POEMS FOR POETS X

US Verse, after Auden
by Michael R. Burch

“Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.”

Verse has small value in our Unisphere,
nor is it fit for windy revelation.
It cannot legislate less...

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In hindsight it was a very dark day when this child
was born. It is a terrible thing to say about an
innocent child, but looking back, you will understand
as this story unfolds.
  The early signs...

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I was your treasured secret 
and as you wished, I never said a word.
Just listened faintly for the next echo 
asking me again to dreaded dark,
where you yourself spoke often and I listened, 
knowing soon...

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