Long Sarongs Poems

These are villanelles by Michael R. Burch and and villanelle-like poems...


Villanelle: Trump’s Retribution Resolution
by Michael R. Burch

My New Year’s resolution?
I require your money and votes,
for *you* are *my* retribution.

May I offer you dark-skinned scapegoats
and bigger...

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Marquees are bright with neon lights, where crowds line up for movie night
Holding hands, we're in 'The Strand'. The velvet carpet guides us in

Popcorn smokes, .. we're drinking cokes,...  and cracking jokes with Bing...

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I Am Your Shadow

You literally crawl out of your bed before the sun has come up,
Stretching reluctantly, knowing it’s another day on this island earth.
So you drag yourself to the john down the hallway a...

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   Unquotable quotes – II

Spare the rod and knife the wife.
Empty drums make the most deaf wise.
Penny wise Pound English.
The Polyester Stomper heals the vain woman’s heel.  
Eat what you can but...

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We the People
Will disagree
On taxation and prosperity
On liberty and duty

We the People
Are every color of Christianity
Every Jewish prayer, every song of Islam
The puritans, the atheists and the Amish
Are neighbors here

We the People
Are Jamaican and Japanese
Swedish...

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Ka-thump-a-loon, my pet raccoon,
sings opera in the woods at noon;
I love so much to hear him croon.
At night he carols to the moon.

If you are lucky you might hear
the songs he sings most loud and...

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Every song has a story under our big sun
Our song we sing forevermore from since a note begun

Let us roar from our core, powerful with might
Mighty might with delight for others to unite

Singing songs in...

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Her paintings of sarongs I'm going to see

will be there for two months, 

I  think, at Lake Of The Clouds

Arts. I heard this in the news:  Layers died last week.

Native Brown Bear got...

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On the bluffs above the Lorelei Rock,
Overlooking the Rhine River near Bingen,
Is the Lorelei Ampitheater.
While stationed in West Germany, 
Towards the end of the Cold War,
I saw there an awesome concert.
The main band was one...

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Azure blue lagoons with silken sands 
Bodies glistening with mocha tans 

Tropical winds and gentle waves 
Divers exploring luminous caves 

Children romping on the shores 
Charming thatched huts without doors
 
Native girls in brightly coloured...

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I am dead to many, a few are dead to me.
I am forgotten 
by young women in green silk sarongs.

Some of the dead have taken vows of silence
lips forever sealed with amnesia.

I have fished Koi...

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Tonight,
The milk bowl moon comes back.
Sitting alongside, on a shadowy bough,
The old white owl hoots
With its inimitable yoghurt voice.
And I hear the familiar eastern winds
Blowing in on blind chariots
In unbalanced haste,
To answer me about things...

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I am dead to many, a few are dead to me.
I am not forgotten      
by girls in green silk sarongs,
(though those also might be dead,
or dead to me,
for in my...

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basking in spring with robin songs
verdant leaves in gorgeous green 
splendour swings in silken sarongs
summer retreats in change of scene.

among fleeting clouds flowers fade
fluttering branches in crimson glow
orange and brown in luminous shade
latticework of leaves...

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