Long Rime Poems

Juvenilia: Early Poems by Michael R. Burch

In the Whispering Night
by Michael R. Burch

In the whispering night, when the stars bend low
till the hills ignite to a shining flame,
when a shower of meteors streaks the sky
while...

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Veronica Franco translations

Veronica Franco (1546-1591) was a Venetian courtesan who wrote literary-quality poetry and prose.

Capitolo 19: A Courtesan's Love Lyric (I) 
by Veronica Franco
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

"I resolved to make a virtue of...

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Half a dozen plus years ago the following became a near reality

Countdown to homelessness – 
mars this earthlinked sole Harris - son
panhandler would would register 
pyrrhic victory won.

10…9…8…3..2..1… 
Found me linkedin at the end of...

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"Exegesis"



At 7 he was 
thrown to the wolves

Bede marked his territory
hidden secrets 
kept in the abbey

he escaped
went to war
where the unwanted trod

First regiment,
Vietnam
he took with him
like a comfort blanket
his Nicene creed and God

and on returning...

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Mama – Translation of Kevin Gilbert’s « Mum » by T. Wignesan

Kevin Gilbert (July 10, 1933 – April 1, 1993) - father of Irish-English ancestry, mother an aboriginal from New South Wales - was orphaned...

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In the middle ages
these roughed and scuffed decades
between newborn crocus snow-melt-nursed and
dried hydrangea blooms sepia-skinned and papery thin
I earned the right to wear sapphires
and burn my mademoiselle mistakes with wisdom-fires

it took me a while to...

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Regretting Cake Takes Two

Rachael looked sheepishly like a hawk in disguise claws clenched meticulous sharpened
yet hidden her sullen face pressing wrinkled no motion frosted lips the icing on the cake
It had meant to be such...

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The Wyrdes were like the Fates, controlling human destinies.

The Wanderer
ancient Anglo-Saxon poem
translation by Michael R. Burch

“The one who wanders alone
longs for mercy, longs for grace,
knowing he must yet traverse
the whale-path’s rime-cold waters,
stirring the waves with...

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(note: The site restrictions don't allow long epic poems, so I have split this into 6 segments, each should run straight on from the previous one.)

THE EYE OF THE SEA

Or
The Rime of the Ancient Kubla...

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" Ship of Doom "

Ship of doom so sailed to sea ~
Dark her course... 'twas meant to be ~

Into seas this great ship sped ~
Her past... her history... of naught but dread ~
O'er those waves...

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OPEN

Each
      chiselled
                     line
enamel
       ...

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‘Water’ seems a fitting title
of this rhyme on something vital
for the beings we take care of
and the others we’re aware of.
 
Life on Earth depends on water,
whether human or sea otter,
fish or fowl, whatever creatures
having...

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" Rime of the Ridiculous Mariner "

{warbled to the Merry Tune: Jingle Bells!}

Jingle Bells & Flyin' Hulls
All sheets in so tight~
Yikes Ahoy! There's the ploy!
Sail right through this night!

Run downwind beat to weather
fall off as...

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The Wanderer, Part II

Awakening, the friendless man confronts the murky waves,
the seabirds bathing, broadening out their feathers,
the hoar-frost, harrowing hail & snow eternally falling…

Then his heart’s wounds seem all the heavier for the loss of...

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So shocking was that news from France,
we stared at TVs in a trance;
no way to understand.
Those young and old without a chance
were taken down in wide expanse.
Such horror had been planned.

Who could have then foreseen...

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Pink and My Buster Browns
                              ...

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The grey mists of a sleeping dawn, cosetting birds still
wrapped up warm in bed, watch a stoat emerge from
its burrow and sprint across his meadow, like a caterpillar
making humped back bridges in Concertina motion

The stoat...

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Ten Years Had Raced Into Oblivion's Cup
Second Poets Tribute Series, Samuel Taylor Coleridge
  
Chained am I, to desolation's huge anchor
on its long black ship, cargo of hate and rancor
yet in spirit oft I roamed...

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Age is not all decay; it is the ripening, the swelling, of the fresh life within, that withers and bursts the husk. George MacDonald
 
_____________________________________________________________

In a world where decay is dominant,
Arctic tundra is melting, and...

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... stalactites hung like dystopian snot from a statue 

her brain was frozen and formed ice in her mind

a lacuna without inlet or outlet arrested in time

mind’s skates tied up in bundles of snowflakes

gloves off...

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" Revenant "

In direction unforeseen yet then 'nother am I drifted~
Winds have their way & through my whims have thus sifted~
Yet oft have been waves of similar significance~
Which may have been received with much less...

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"Light Kissed"


Light kissed her through the veil
Come tempest on the beach of morning sun
With Gold on your naked feet
Life has again for you begun 
Like waves to shore
You’ll meet my kiss
Slow and full 
Wet succulent...

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what makes a person a poet
inquiring minds want to know
if you are able to write a poem
does that make you a poet
or do you need to write more then one
how about a hundred poems written...

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Walked a wooded trail, suddenly unsure of my surroundings,
wondered had I'd become lost..
only a moment disconcerted, as dusk grew nearer. 

I went over an old river crossed by an even older bridge, 
there not seen...

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" Mom's Rime "

Sailing across an ocean deep...
those colours so all a'glitter~
I've found time is mine all away...
if I so choose to fritter~

Thus now does tedium seep...
of task so many and long~
'Tis plentiful then this...

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