Long Seamus Poems

SELF REFLECTIONS

These are poems about mirrors, images, self-image, reflections, impressions and self-reflection. 

Self Reflection
by Michael R. Burch 

for anyone struggling with self-image

She has a comely form
and a smile that brightens her dorm ...
but she's grossly...

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Deep In Newly Disturbed Soil, Lies My True Love

(  “Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them” – George Eliot.)

Deep in newly disturbed soil, lies my true love
'neath a canopy...

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Children's Poems III

These are poems for children and poems about children and their mothers, fathers, grandmother, grandfathers and extended families. 



Picturebook Princess
by Michael R. Burch

for Keira

We had a special visitor.
Our world became suddenly brighter.
She was...

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Kindness and Lament

Money never to be found or spare
Funny how people just sit there and stare
Honey now you know this really isn’t fair 
Sunny for those who genuinely care 
Affection for those who are broken...

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Mary was from Tipperary
She was an Irish Coleen
She dreamt of wealth and riches
While keeping the house clean

She was a housemaid,
She worked for an old man
She despised her job
And life was not going to plan

Mary had...

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I'd chosen you as my flunky -
Your hair - Neanderthal red,
You'd hurry towards my shrill calling,
De-cloth me and roll me to bed.

'Textured', you woo-ed, 'mild and creamy',
Said I'd never last long on the shelf,
I blushed,...

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It was a winter evening, the sun had to go early.
I could hear the cry of our dear cat, his sunken eyes wished
to tell a pathetic story, steps tattered and wished to
say-''I am too exhausted...

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Who is this boy?
Harry Potter.
He is a teen wizard,
From the school Hogwarts.

Harry has two best mates,
Ron and Hermione, each other they hate.
Ron is a wizard, Hermione a muggle-witch.
Its up to Harry,
To keep their friendship,
Smooth without...

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The Soup kitchen's queue are in line .
The economy , banjaxed and dyin' .
When Lehmans went bust
The bankers just cussed
So now , " Buddy who can spare a dime " ?.

I called up my banker...

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He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the immortal, just a glimpse, but not
the...

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Poets
in literal meaning
are not responsive
to normative rules of dying

moreover
just like the Saints
they do not fit into a
written conventions

of the existence
of the survival
at all costs
at the cost of their own greatness

they rather resemble
orphaned fortresses
which has to...

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He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the immortal, just a glimpse, but not
the...

Read More

...inspired by 'An Artist' by Seamus Heaney


He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the...

Read More

...inspired by 'An Artist' by Seamus Heaney


He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the...

Read More

...inspired by 'An Artist' by Seamus Heaney


He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the...

Read More

On the first day of a year long ago
We walked the path to the glazing wood
Peter, Michael, Seamus and me
We cut hazel wands to swing 
Severing the tops from offending fern and brier
Some spark of...

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...inspired by 'Goodnight' by Seamus Heaney



From dark to black they staggered,
felt for familiar surfaces,
they groped, until the lantern flickered,
faint glow resurrecting shadows.

Cold and flaggy, floors uneven,
up and down they skittered
like two drunkards on a binge,
finding...

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...inspired by 'Goodnight' by Seamus Heaney

From dark to black they staggered,
felt for familiar surfaces,
they groped until the lantern flickered,
faint glow resurrecting shadows.

Cold and flaggy floors uneven,
up and down they skittered
like two drunkards on a binge,
finding...

Read More

...inspired by 'Goodnight' by Seamus Heaney

From dark to black they staggered,
felt for familiar surfaces,
they groped, until the lantern flickered,
faint glow resurrecting shadows.

Cold and flaggy, floors uneven,
up and down they skittered
like two drunkards on a binge,
finding...

Read More

...inspired by 'Goodnight' by Seamus Heaney

From dark to black they staggered,
felt for familiar surfaces,
they groped, until the lantern flickered,
faint glow resurrecting shadows.

Cold and flaggy, floors uneven,
up and down they skittered
like two drunkards on a binge,
finding...

Read More

...inspired by 'Goodnight' by Seamus Heaney

From dark to black they staggered,
felt for familiar surfaces,
they groped, until the lantern flickered,
faint glow resurrecting shadows.

Cold and flaggy, floors uneven,
up and down they skittered
like two drunkards on a binge,
finding...

Read More

...inspired by 'Goodnight' by Seamus Heaney



From dark to black they staggered,
felt for familiar surfaces,
they groped, until the lantern flickered,
faint glow resurrecting shadows.

Cold and flaggy, floors uneven,
up and down they skittered
like two drunkards on a binge,
finding...

Read More

...inspired by 'The Railway Children' by Seamus Heaney

Memories as sharp as diamonds,
keen as knives, the smell of
train smoke burns my nostrils still.

Chilly mornings, misty, magic,
gleaming rails so full of promise,
lumbering Leviathans,

wheezing, roaring, bound for Scotland
or...

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...inspired by 'The Railway Children' by Seamus Heaney

Memories as sharp as diamonds,
keen as knives, the smell of
train smoke burns my nostrils still.
Chilly mornings, misty, magic,
gleaming rails so full of promise,
lumbering Leviathans,
wheezing, roaring, bound for Scotland
or...

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The leprechaun trap wasn’t empty;
A toy leprechaun nestled inside
With a nice thank you note
That the leprechaun wrote,
So my granddaughter took it in stride.

If she’d caught one, she wanted some wishes,
Like a carousel built in her...

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