Long Salvage Poems

Currents
by Michael R. Burch

How can I write and not be true
to the rhythm that wells within?
How can the ocean not be blue,
not buck with the clapboard slap of tide,
the clockwork shock of wave on rock,
the...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems XI

Myth
by Michael R. Burch

after the sprung rhythm of Dylan Thomas

Here the recalcitrant wind
sighs with grievance and remorse
over fields of wayward gorse
and thistle-throttled lanes.

And she is the myth of the scythed wheat
hewn and...

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Sonnets XLII-LI

Distances
by Michael R. Burch

Moonbeams on water?
the reflected light
of a halcyon star
now drowning in night...
So your memories are.

Footprints on beaches
now flooding with water;
the small, broken ribcage
of some primitive slaughter...
So near, yet so far.



A Surfeit of...

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Nucleotidings
by Michael R. Burch

“We will walk taller!” said Gupta,
sorta abrupta,
hand-in-hand with his mom,
eyeing the A-bomb.

“Who needs a mahatma
in the aftermath of NAFTA?
Now, that was a disaster,”
cried glib Punjab.

“After Y2k,
time will spin out of control anyway,”
flamed...

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I am fairly new to this Norwick community.
If I recall correctly
we have about forty thousand households here
where the Connecticut River
conjoins the Mohegan and Iroquois Rivers;
originally deep rich virgin eco-forest 
of and for harmonic rhythm and...

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"Salvage"


Salvage the fixating salvation 
unfurling from the wreckage
of a numb world twisted inside
treasure climbs swimming 
the ladder from the deep of all things 
reaching upwards travelling in a new time
of melting morpheme moments overlapping 
dissolved...

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The day was going off, and the brown air
To the terrestrial animals gave rest
For their labors; and only me was there

Just ready to withstand the war at best
Both of the journey and of the torment,
Which...

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Set upon the new world stage within the burning fires of hell. Silently posed factions of the elite, suppress the true inherit of Mother Earth. The meek children bending over for millennium, taken spankings of...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems by Michael R. Burch



Desdemona
by Michael R. Burch

Though you possessed the moon and stars,
you are bound to fate and wed to chance.
Your lips deny they crave a kiss;
your feet deny they ache to...

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Twice the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Yet again awoken by winter when the third was three in number.

I sense that a silence doth sneak ‘tween cracks of weathered wood,
Conniving with that which shadows...

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Once the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Whence the winter woke me when the third was three in number.

I sense that a wince doth lurk and wear which wicked gaze,
Of conniving shadows cast between...

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A wince doth lurk wearing which wicked gaze,
Of conniving cast shadows ‘tween my windowpanes.

Gazing through the window’s diaphanous gelid glass, 
I see a flushing fluorescent misty haze of frothy brass.

It floats aloft the frost of...

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Contemplating on a previous conversation with Job and his wife,
I drew a breath of relief, remembering my humbling purpose
Sin was imminent on my brow, though I was beyond its impetuosity
Suffering dines with long-lived perspective, sharpening...

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Incomplete metamorphosis of distilled adolescent...

therefore he characterizes himself as an anomaly...any idea why?

Mortified, petrified, stultified, et cetera sheltered, 
and mortally wounded prepubescent,

I consider myself
analogously buttressed, cocooned,
garrisoned (for bing keeler), 
hardened, insulated,
where cell baited jumping frog
o'...

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Oxygen is depleting from what remains within the confines of which, a means to an end, lie guarded. Watch as hope disappears within the aftermath of this wreckage, which was constructed-meticulously seeking absolute perfection…; only...

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A country of dreams has burst its rainbow at all ragged seams

In a state of affairs illusion of fusion and widespread delusion

The constitution hallucinates as night settles scores of deceit

Bereavement takes its toll in anger...

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I know you’re happy,

Guess I’m stuck bein’ me,

Guess I stay missin’ out on chances that I couldn’t see.

But in the meantime,

Keep your head,

And know I’m doin’ just fine.

You know, maybe I’ll get lucky and catch...

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Placed Third In :

Appreciation, Anger, Air, Angelic Poetry Contest

Sponsored by Sotto Poet
                  
     ...

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Sometimes,
not often enough,
I stop my morning routine
to watch the feeding drama breathe feathered flurries in and out,
on, 
and under,
my side-yard bird feeder

Outside my kitchen windows
over this morning's sudsy sink,
looking across a twinkling white field
of early...

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Sy Roth - 3 Poems
12/17/20130 Comments
 
Picture
Silence

I’ve dreamt often that she crept deep
Into my cellular structure, 
Some time in the nightfall of my being
And planted deeply into my mitochondrion,
A magical silence pill,
Drowning the kittens of...

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Two young newlyweds Samantha and Ray
On honeymoon went camping to the Bay
But as they were rocking
Strong winds came a knocking
And left them nude as their tent blew away

Both were red faced and on the ground...

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Time 

                                 ...

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                           I
Hearken back to the old rule nazis how
...

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A blitzkrieg wipes your innocence away
and only heaven’s hand can help you now.
Your counterparts lie trepid to the fray,
for they can sense the wolfen on the prowl.
Oh dear Poland, there’ll be no recompense
as death, unbridled,...

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A scientist pursuing research—
with disinterested curiosity,
Poets distancing themselves—
from personal emotions,
from ‘personality’ (in Eliot’s idiolect),
A sportsperson focusing on the event—
not obsessed with results,
demonstrating sporting spirit,
Anyone doing their karma—
regardless of results,
as characterized in Indian scriptures,
notably the Gita—
All...

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