Long Rhythms Poems

Somehow, 
Forward, and headlong
I knew it was day again

There was a shift in the dark mutterings of the Devil,
Who now refused to sleep as I refused to sing,
Almost an anticipation in his voice,
As if he...

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My husband and I always enjoy visiting
GrandMother Eartha
on Mother's Day

She often shares
last night's dreams,
which too often follow rather disturbing peak experience themes

Because,
you know,
or maybe not because,
how would I know?

Dreams about Her Straight White AlphaMale trauma
were...

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Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch

I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.



Autumn Conundrum
by Michael R. Burch

It's not that every leaf must finally...

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Vacuum
by Michael R. Burch

Over hushed quadrants
forever landlocked in snow,
time’s senseless winds blow...

leaving odd relics of lives half-revealed,
if still mostly concealed...
such are the things we are unable to know

that once intrigued us so.

Come then, let us...

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Too many times sadly
too seldom gladly
I must learn to trust
Earth's future more

Both Father Sun's timeless 
rounds of enlightenment
and Mother Earth's
codependent rhythms
regenerating rich 
empowering 
soulful soil
and surfing seas

And this trusting more
impels healing trauma's lessons,
surviving hale and...

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Where Does the Butterfly Go?
by Michael R. Burch

for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba

Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails,
when thunder howls,
when hailstones scream,
when winter scowls,
when nights compound dark frosts with snow ...
Where...

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The Making of a Poet
by Michael R. Burch

While I don’t consider “Poetry” to be my best poem—I wrote the first version in my teens—it’s a poem that holds special meaning for me; I call it...

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Some days and nights
I am terrorized by death,
cold silo ache-echoing fear,
claustrophobic breathless dark
barking inevitable factness and finality
of my decomposing mortality,
of history's posthumous demise,
post-humorous as hell.

What good is death
if it cannot at least invite eternal engagement?
Hopeful...

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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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State of the Art (II)

These are my "ars poetica" poems about the art and craft of writing poetry. 



What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch

What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer 
~~~~underwater~~~~
watching the shoreline...

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- 2016 -

- JANUARY -

A freezing cold evening

Where the stars shining bright

With frost blade flanks

From mouth and nose steam

In the clear silence

White untrodden snows

Nature's frozen pulse

Sleep like a little baby

One gracious moon

After the night the...

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The difference between 
bad-old-boy 
competitively evolving 
egg white privilege

And good-girl 
cooperatively revolutionary 
just-us-yolks

Foreshadows a symbiotic contrast
between prophetic performance
and messianic practice,
said Professor Glory
in her Gospel of Permaculture class,
one Friday morning
while sitting on her crass 
desk of...

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Radiance
by Michael R. Burch

for Dylan Thomas

The poet delves earth’s detritus—hard toil—
for raw-edged nouns, barbed verbs, vowels’ lush bouquet;
each syllable his pen excretes—dense soil,
dark images impacted, rooted clay.

The poet sees the sea but feels its meaning—
the...

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I listened to his heart profusely, 
For a beat like his was much to ponder
I often wondered, his thoughts, and,
A light in me knew, with wretched wonderment
What the whispers in his mutterings meant to me

They...

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Imagine,
said Yin to distraught Yang,
never able to get quite enough of himself,
never enough time to fully become his ego-potentiality

Imagine this day opens a new rhetorical event,
a new day of conversation between Ego
and those you live...

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Life as active love 
evolves toward more polycultural communication,
across both species and time,
within Earth’s Solar EcoSystemic Universe.

While this conversation includes human natured communicators,
we suboptimize our ecological balance
if endo-human discourse monopolizes our lifetime learning dialogue.

A life...

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Angry FireGod sneers sarcasm,
"Not warm enough yet?"
"Still too much clean water and air
and other healthy stuff,
like sun-baked red chili peppers?"

Excuse me,
I was under the impression
that I invited you for my interview,
which would involve me asking...

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Poems about Children V

Pan
by Michael R. Burch

Among the shadows of the groaning elms,
amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves

Once there were paths that led to coracles
that clung to piers like loosening barnacles

where we cannot return,...

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Numbers, numerals,
like words,
combinations of letters,
mean something,
sometimes more secular,
sometimes more sacred ecological.

Numerals and letters share sacred iconic human-intelligence root systems
within a bicameral ecology of mind-body nonduality,
both RightBrain matriarchal empowering flow of integrity (Czikszentmihalyi)
and LeftBrain patriarchal Yang...

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Let’s say the number 1
iconically speaks in Left-Yang Universal Language,
root of ecosystemetrics,

while PlaceHolder (0)
bicamerally dreams in Right-YinDiPolar ReGenerative PolyCultural Action,
health-flow of autonomic, enthymematic thought and awareness
influenced by feelings of EarthCentric  BiCameral Consciousness
as Plan A,
so...

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Imagine we live in an eco-normative story
of competing for wealth-commodities,
cash piled in quantifiable currencies,
collectively blinded to our Win-Win
natural economic,
ecological,
psychological,
biological health and well-being 
nurturing value roots.

One day, our PolyCultural Received View
unveils a co-operatively synergetic evolution 
of...

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It's all frustratingly LeftBrain relativistic,
even nihilistic in its darker 
ruminating 
paranoid about chaotic outcomes form,
said Einstein's post-millennial ghost.

So its all synergetic fractal 4D equivalent SpaceTime,
said Fuller,
in co-arising nondual P = N(NP)/2 (0)-Core response.

Interesting you should...

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I think he's talking about a cooperative bicameral political system,
with "How to talk to the other side".

And what could that possibly mean, dear Yang?

Well,
I was watching this Ted-talk from Marin,
by Robb Willer, as I anciently...

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Sonnets X-XVI


Archaischer Torso Apollos (“Archaic Torso of Apollo”)
by Rainer Maria Rilke
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We cannot know the beheaded god
nor his eyes' forfeited visions. But still
the figure's trunk glows with the strange vitality
of a...

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The organic building of a coordinated artist
begins with reconstructing competitively clumsy LeftBrain technicians.

Whether learning to play the piano
or learning to communicate in some new language
or learning to adopt,
and/or adapt,
norms and nuances of some new cultural...

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