Long Slipping 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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"The Payload" 

The payload 
came crashing down
like rain expelled
from the fat belly 
of a ruinous pregnant cloud 
bilious with buxom promise

it came crashing down 
like school fish released 
from the tight confines
of a course rope...

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Where art thou anonymous benefactor...to offer me succor?

Ah... methinks legal tender 
could be a boon to help me bolster 
mein kampf with necessary material equipage,
which prospect to acquire essential 
commodities sabotaged 
at the altar of...

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Rejection Slips 2

The Shape of Mourning
by Michael R. Burch
 
The shape of mourning
is an oiled creel
shining with unuse,
 
the bolt of cold steel
on a locker
shielding memory,

the monthly penance
of flowers,
the annual wake,
 
the face in the...

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Fate decreed sexting/texting while married abominable

Therefore karma caught up to me big time
and delivered yours truly sent to purgatory
(figurative speaking) by casting a spell,
whereby the government issued Safelink
Tracfone got permanently disabled
and all the data
(including contact...

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“The True Mother”

What part of a heart
in another could one trust
when betrayal comes
like a silver bullet, words and deeds
sharp piercing to burrow 
bleed out Life’s dreams 
rust crumbles to dust

Virulent apathy spreads 
Betrayal’s destruction 
hand...

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Lozenge
by Michael R. Burch

When I was closest to love, it did not seem
real at all, but a thing of such tenuous sweetness
it might dissolve in my mouth
like a lozenge of sugar.

When I held you in...

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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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Juvenilia: Early Poems VII

These are early poems I wrote as a boy and as a teenager.

The Leveler
by Michael R. Burch

The nature of Nature
is bitter survival
from Winter’s bleak fury
till Spring’s brief revival.

The weak implore Fate;
bold men...

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Dream-worker 
delves deeply into my dream;

vibrations fondle anticipation
foreplay wakes wide-eyed 
swells of liquid libido quake the rendezvous edge -
a primordial being in his prime
a masculine ego quest for affaire d’amour;
her night-loving body 
c h a...

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Note to Readers of Previous Versions:
There are so many new vignettes scattered throughout the poem that I hope you will reread the whole thing! There are many new GEMS, improvements to previous verses and improved...

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I hanker and pine for wood burning stove weather

I haint no spring chicken,
("Buk buk buk buk ba-gawk!")
but in Summer re: 
long in tooth sexagenarian 
nostalgic for the following imagery 
evoked yesterday with very little effort
(aside...

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‘She’s on again - the annual campin’ trip regatta,
and we’ve got ourselves together for our plans to Wonnangatta. 
The high country; you can’t beat it for the peace and quiet
unless of course some plans get...

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Heavy storm was sweeping dark Paris streets
Lit with dim lights that dreary November night 
With ghostly shadows lurking in the corners
Cold wind dancing with dirty wet leaves fallen 
In the water pools in the middle...

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These are poems about starlight and moonlight, moons and stars, dreams and visions, illuminations and intimations …



Will There Be Starlight
by Michael R. Burch 

Will there be starlight
tonight
while she gathers
damask
and lilac
and sweet-scented heathers?

And will she find...

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When we set out on a road trip
We didn’t stick to the old script
And were gladly amazed
And rarely unfazed
Hitting strange towns though some were skipped

We started from Thatsnot, OK
Which was more or less ok
But then...

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How come you're so indifferent?
My opinions sting my noggin with discontent 
Don't you ever feel overwhelmed with the songs on the radio?
Well, no words can describe this feeling I feel...yeah nobody will know

Oh lightingale, you...

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Date:  July  2051

The last day of family gatherings before August. Damian 
Had a limo ride with Jackson
Crysteph Julius Adonis Kyon and
CJ to visit the dwellings which housed homeless citizens and economically deprived People....

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THE DESERT THE WILDERNESS THE STORM

I am parched, my back is arched, 
my body racked with pain,
Nothing green in sight, 
my thirst, my plight, 
eyes playing tricks on me again. 

An illusion of rest beside...

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A MINISTER RETIRES :  
SOLILOQUY 

I arise as infant Phoenix 
from Akasha ashes 
counterparts frozen 
with foibles intact
a still Arctic of death
sheath for recalibration 

Source Light breathes into 
fontanelle slowly sleepily  
Sekmet my...

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(A call for the lights to dim as a single spotlight illuminates the legend Judy Garland, who is center stage. She wears a faded housecoat as her beautiful, brandy brown eyes hold a lifetime of...

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Swept up into piles; everywhere 
Abouts; in collected heaps all 
Around.               
It is almost as if the drab 
Streets were strewn...

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I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(the reasons why you’ll never know),
whisked away in winter’s winds, your sleeping sighs remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close...

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I crept into the pit of hell all alone. Contingent upon my lifestyle I knew this could be my last day alive…

She haunted me in my dreams. She terrorized me in the sunlight but through...

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What if…

If fear did not guard and watch over me?
My seeds of shame and doubt
Would timidly venture out
And finally sprout,
But as they reached the light,
Like a vampire, would wither and die
Without the protection of night.
Or:...

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