Long Slap Poems

“Son”...”say goodnight to grandpa”

Spurred by mother dearest 
as well as other politesse
drummed into her second born
fobbing blandishments as incentive
tumbled off fingers of prodigal son
tripped wordsmith to splutter forth
forthwith the following lines.

Back in the day 
quaint...

Read More

Dear people, 
    (Am i?) Mad it’s a conformist state?
A status that perpetuates people to pair, to compare, to prepare, 
to perfect, before performance, …?
    -sure hard to try...

Read More

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...

Read More

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...

Read More

Poems about Poems (I)



What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch

What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer
~~~underwater~~~
watching the shoreline blur
sees through his breath’s weightless bubbles...
Both worlds grow obscure.



Muse/Goddess
by Michael R. Burch

“What will you conceive in...

Read More

Salvation of a Formalist, an Ode to Entropy
by Michael R. Burch

Entropy?
God's universal decree
That I get to be
Disorderly?
Suddenly
My erstwhile boxed-in verse is free?
Wheeeeee!



Eternal Currents
by Michael R. Burch

How can I write and not be true
to the rhythm...

Read More

The Making of a Poet
by Michael R. Burch

While I don’t consider “Poetry” to be my best poem—I wrote the first version in my teens—it’s a poem that holds special meaning for me; I call it...

Read More

The State of the Art (I)
by Michael R. Burch

Has rhyme lost all its reason
and rhythm, renascence?
Are sonnets out of season
and poems but poor pretense?

Are poets lacking fire,
their words too trite and forced?
What happened to desire?
Has...

Read More

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...

Read More

Fadwa Tuqan has been called the Grand Dame of Palestinian letters and The Poet of Palestine. These are my translations of Fadwa Tuqan poems originally written in Arabic.



Enough for Me
by Fadwa Tuqan 
loose translation/interpretation by...

Read More

Date:   April   2026

The 1st degree is unknown 

Damian and Polly had planned
The trip to the Copy Cat Club
For weeks with Dolly and Molly
The club was popping when
They hit the scene.
The DJ...

Read More

A Stolen Memory
A Mirthful Chorus
By Sy Roth 


We surrounded him 
Asked to let go.
She stared at the misshapen face,
Unshaven sandpapery skin 
Eyelids a tabula rasa
Fluttery sere skin
And we could see the humor blossoming in his...

Read More

English translations of Arabic poems by Fadwa Tuqan aka "The Poet of Palestine"

Enough for Me
by Fadwa Tuqan 
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Enough for me to lie in the earth,
to be buried in her,
to sink...

Read More

A Night On A Wharf

The couple decide to walk. The boardwalk still lit at this late hour guides them. They walk hand in hand,..whispering softly with small talk...solemn.,. lonely , yet together. The walk is...

Read More

I was reading Rev. Julian Clifford Jaynes' homily,
delivered May of 1919
to the First Unitarian Society in West Newton, Massachusetts,
commenting on the 100 years since Channing's Baltimore Sermon.

Rev. Jaynes had a son, 
a second generation Julian...

Read More

I used to slit my arms open like I was peeling fruit—careful, slow, watching the skin give way like wet paper. The box cutter blade was dull, sticky from God knows what—maybe dried glue, maybe...

Read More

My wounded heart drinks deep from the rotting gut of misery,
Humanity vomits its relics onto the oozing tiles of the real.
I see kids chewing syringes like candy canes,
Their innocence smashed, face down on the concrete...

Read More

Date:      August   2051

The 3rd of August  2 morning time.
Holly had labor signals. Her and 
Molly's accommodations were now adjacent. She buzzed the com. Nobody
Answered. She struggled to...

Read More

Oh Hanna. 

The sinking of the USS Stefan wood. 

Oh Hanna 
I want to take you to Montana. 
We can camp out by the springs we will go and see the way oil is founding...

Read More

The Game of Hockey 

By Government decree, lacrosse
Is Canada’s national sport,
But in the hearts and minds of Canadians,
Hockey rules supreme.
Hockey is a winter sport enjoyed by Canadians since 1875,
When the game was first played, on...

Read More

"Wonder
or radical [polypathic, polycultural] amazement
is a prerequisite for an authentic [ecopolitical] awareness
of that which is;
[regenerative love-rooted v degenerative fear-rooted
messages,
actions,
choices,
decisions regarding democratically cooperative
egalitarian
health and security for all];

it [polypathic open-systemic (0)-sum Wonder]
refers not only to what we...

Read More

anxiety, intense -
but I am not frightened ...
my heart races ... I want to flee
my blood heats and lies to
my senses ...
'get out! go now! dear gawd, fool, run!!'
for you are formidable -
eighty inches tall,...

Read More

This is dedicated
To that man who expresses love through hatred
I'm tryin' to make it clear that you leave scars everytime you say ""
If you love your woman, why do you beat her?
Why do you mistreat...

Read More

I was pushed to write this comparison after reading the poem on Byron by the souper poet Gary Bateman.
Wandering on internet I found the Byron's version of Francesca's words in CANTO V of Dante's Hell...

Read More

Sun and traffic - day economy.
Six a.m. drive to plywood mill. Too tired
to be angry. Each day a step
toward death. What is being accomplished? The
small satisfactions
within each day. Book consciously read.
And frustrations. Package dropped, honey...

Read More