Long Scarcely Poems

(Created using the bAbBlE sentence generator, various text excerpts, and a minuscule bit of human editing.) 

And she smells good without keeping all ...

Beef, sitting lonely on that lies floating on the tufted floor. "Surely,"...

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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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These are early poems of mine, written as a high school student in the 10th grade. 

as Time walked by
by Michael R. Burch

yesterday i dreamed of us again,
when
the air, like honey,
trickled through cushioning grasses,
softly flowing,...

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Near Sainthood
by Mirza Ghalib
translation by Kanu V. Prajapati and Michael R. Burch

On the subject of mystic philosophy, Ghalib,
your words might have seemed deeply profound
and we might have pronounced you a saint...
if only we hadn't found
you...

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There was a little wind fairy who lived in a meadow near a small town, her name was Estella. Estella had beautiful blue hair like the sky, so her friends called her the little blue...

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Poems about Flight, Flying, and Birds (I)



Flight
by Michael R. Burch

It is the nature of loveliness to vanish
as hummingbird wings, batting against nothingness
seek transcendence...



Southern Icarus
by Michael R. Burch

Windborne, lover of heights,
unspooled from the truck’s wildly lurching...

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Thus it begins—
A free-verse epic
Into the mind of
A writer and an idiot—
A romantic and, 
Often a pessimist
Conjoined in arbitrary glory
Are the thoughts and words 
Of one overly-worked mind—
Charismatic and, of course,
On the pushover, pitiful
And usually...

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Two, perhaps three miles out to sea, beyond the reef to Zapatillas,
Bocas’ dual sand-edged footprint jewels with jungle centre trees, 
Francesco’s outboard boat heads out to Caribbean’s deeper blue.

Where sun burns softer gringo skin, but...

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Mission Control, this is Flight Z924693744, do you read?
We're having some technical trouble. How should we proceed?

We have spotted a planet, that appears to be suitable to abort;
But, to return to earth, we will need...

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Invisibly tortured courtesy existential nihilism

Psyche wracked with agony
impossible mission to extricate lovely bones
they wanna remain permanently abed.

I chiefly function to amass knowledge
courtesy assiduously, habitually,
and judiciously reading
an eclectic assortment of written material.

Yours truly woke
with ambition, disposition,
inclination,...

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Winnie, wild-eyed, went insane
and sang “Happy Birthday” in the rain, 
while she washed away her bloody pain.

Now all day long she sings that song,
she sings it loud, she sings it strong,
walled in where she does...

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We all have our hopes, and I certainly did have mine,
I was longing for the love, of someone I thought divine.

Whenever he walked by, it seemed for me time stood still,
And I grew as speechless,...

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Ledger of Love

In the dim-lit chambers of the Victorian home,
Resides a wife, her heart a silent tome.
Once, love’s flame burned bright within her breast,
But now a thin whisp, a ghostly jest.

Her gaze averts from her...

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4/8/24

Aww shucks
Still at the crux
In a state of flux
With reality still out of touch
I've been puzzled much
So I smoke a couple blunts
That's a double dutch
From dawn to dusk
I turned myself into a husk
Just so I...

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I seldom indulge in letter writing 
Because I consider it 
To be a cold and illusory 
Means of communication. 
I will only send someone a letter 
If I'm certain it's going to serve 
A definite...

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|SEVEN MINUTES UNTIL OUR DEMISE

{"Seven minutes left; the insistent buzz in my skull would never abrogate, it preserved on being continuously strenuous. 
My whacks on the veneer of the tiles went unheard of as my...

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1.

I remember 20:

Aflame with ideas and visions,
A mind unfettered by necessity's constraints,
Spirit open to everything -
Tomorrow held no fears, 
Yesterday no regrets;
There was only day following day,
Each new with something to give,
Each corner I turned
Led...

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NOTE: The Natchez Trace is the Nashville bar where I met my future wife Beth. We invented a game called "twister pool" which involved billiards, drinking and a fair bit of physical contortion ...


At the...

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Your voice kisses the breath of the morning wind
Snapping in the solemnity that bears a cry unto God.
Angels have come to earth; that in slumber seemed,
Like the wind creaking among the faith we once had.

Life...

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The aqua-blue sky’s currents are overhead…
Showering rain of soft, but pitiful dread
I’ve cried too many times now…
My hopes are no longer sea-deep and my woes are gone somehow
Pray for me, brethren…
Let His glory carry me...

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For My Children
-	Daniel Henry Rodgers

As dawn's first blush ignites the eastern sky—a cool
Caress of dew upon the breeze—and the birds' serenade
Pierces the silence, their notes ascending high.

The mist, like a spectral ballet, pirouettes, twirling
In the...

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I was born on the closing days of
The second World War  
In a small village of north-west of Greece
Up on the mountains.

The country was devastated
After four years of occupation by
The Nazis and Fascists and
Then
A...

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There were images the grey man could not see 
Did not want to see, in all probability

Walking by the glass doors and windows of modern stores
No warmth of being within their cold crisp alloy frames
Where...

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She Was Very Pretty
by Michael R. Burch

She was very pretty, in the usual way
for perhaps a day;
and when the boys came out to play,
she winked and smiled, then ran away
till one unexpectedly caught her.

At sixteen,...

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“To Edward Young”
by Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock
translation by Michael R. Burch

Die, aged prophet: your crowning work your fulcrum;
now tears of joy
tremble on angel-lids
as heaven extends its welcome.

Why linger here? Have you not already built, great Mover,
a...

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