Long Roland Poems

Juvenilia: Early Poems X

These are early poems written in my teens and twenties.

Regret
by Michael R. Burch

Regret,
a bitter
ache to bear...

once starlight
languished
in your hair...

a shining there
as brief
as rare.

Regret,
a pain
I chose to bear...

unleash
the torrent
of your hair...

and show me
once...

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Cowpoke
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 16

Sleep, old man...
your day has long since passed.
The endless plains,
cool midnight rains
and changeless ragged cows
alone remain
of what once was.

You cannot know
just how the Change
will rape the windswept plains
that you...

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That Genius Warren Zevon
By Roy Merritt

I was born to be dictator 
but I got no place to go
I got no government nearby 
that I could possibly overthrow

And doing it here in America 
Isn’t possible at...

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The cold wind north, fate took its course
As fate is fain to do
For kings fall down, that bloody crown!
And still the eagle flew.

The time had come, to cross the chasm
To stop the king untrue.
From France...

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The telephone rang, it was early dawn
The birds were unusually silent
Words came through like lightning bolts
‘Swallow me earth!  My pitiful plea
Scorched heart set afire!
Inconsolable, I lay upon the floor
With just one wish – to...

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ake me back to the 80s,
with top gun all the rage.
with me VHS and Betamax,
and Ceefax holiday page. 

Keith had is hand up Orville,
the Rubix cube was fun.
Samantha had her baps out,
on the third page...

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My Name Is Roland, Do You Want To Go Bowling
              chosen to relate to  Richard Lamoureaux's Poem
    ...

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No place on earth is more changeable than the seasonal forest
Undergoing radical transformations from the world above
Year after after year
To spend a day here is nature’s way of offering a spa
A bathe in nature
No place...

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Cicada Dreaming was told to Roland Robinson in 1965 by Julia Charles of the Yoocum Yoocum clans from the area around Wollumbin in the headwaters of the Tweed River, Northern NSW and is used with...

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REMEMBER RUBEN
Sons of peasants 
Insolent and craving 
For Grandeur, nay for 
Moneys
Trampling to death, 
Proud, oh! Too proud
To see death beside
Just waiting the
Hour. 


Sons of 
Officers and officials
Pale, empty, worldly
Certificates at shaky hand 
Oubliettes, wine...

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As my uncle lay dying in his nursing home bed - He couldn't understand the words that were 
said - For so many years his body declined and Alzheimers Disease had clouded his mind -...

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The gunslinger entered the tiny town of Tull
A town that was cast under his enemy's spell.
First smiles, then lies, last gunfire came,
Then Tull lay dead, in the gunslinger's name.
Through the huge desert, thirsty and sore
Still...

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As my uncle lay dying in his nursing home bed
He couldn't comprehend the words people said
For so many years his body declined
And Alzheimers disease had clouded his mind
Just a few days before he died
The Lord...

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Here! Is where another love song is born
With every touch on the keys 
An echo is heard on the moon
It's a sweet release
I am the writer of this love song
My wife says she wishes I...

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Friends from the Lutheran church got together,
We decided to hike on the Bruce Trail,

i walked with my friend Axel,
We were friends along the trail and we were completely quiet.

Traveled on the rugged terrain,
The scenery was...

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Limericks croises : Once a Rigolo Tennisman  
                          ...

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There was a gunslinger, Roland Deschain, by name
From Gilead, in the barony of New Canaan, he came.
He won his guns at the tender age of fourteen
Aye, even Cort said twas the youngest he'd seen.
His hawk,...

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I’ve placed it in the most visible place
This old photo of black and white
Taken in 1943, the edges worn and frayed  
Papa, Mama, and Winnie, eyes so bright 

Though one by one they’ve all...

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Mr MacPherson, a mathematician
Was married to Sally,a keen statistician.
With little division to trigger vexation
Their conjugal lives led to multiplication.
First Roland, then Harry and then the addition
Of first daughter Jenny, a gifted logician.

The one common factor...

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Young Jesi Naomi channeling Trish Roland 
incarnate professedly. Hour: you dead now?
Tuba bongo blues like a freight train serenade 
in the American night. You slammed life against 
the wall, slammed it. Drank it down 
with...

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