Long Snowy Poems

"The Messenger"

Love is rich with 
venom and honey. 

there was a female ...

snake, 
it watched 
with green-eyed 
avarice, covetting
a dove’s nest

the dove, 
was white as snow, 
not young, getting on,
tiny flecks of grey

the dove 
alone,...

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Poems about Flight, Flying, and Birds



Flying
by Michael R. Burch

I shall rise
and try the bloody wings of thought
ten thousand times
before I fly...

and then I'll sleep
and waste ten thousand nights
before I dream;

but when at last...
I soar the...

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The first soft snow: 
leaves of the awed jonquil 
bow low
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

Come, investigate loneliness! 
a solitary leaf
clings to the Kiri tree
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

The cheerful-chirping cricket
contends gray...

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Dusk-gliding swallow, 
please spare my small friends
flitting among the flowers! 
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

A bee emerging
from deep within the peony's hairy recesses
flies off, sated
—Matsuo Basho translation by Michael R. Burch

That dying cricket,...

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These are translations of some of the oldest Japanese waka, which evolved into tanka, renga and haiku. 

While you decline to cry,
high on the mountainside
a single stalk of plumegrass wilts.
—O no Yasumaro (circa 711), translation...

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Grasses wilt:
the braking locomotive
grinds to a halt
—Yamaguchi Seishi, translation by Michael R. Burch

Oh, fallen camellias,
if I were you,
I'd leap into the torrent!
—Takaha Shugyo, translation by Michael R. Burch

The first soft snow:
leaves of the awed jonquil
bow...

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Athenian Epitaphs II

These are ancient Greek epitaphs for lost family and friends, including dogs and other animals ...

Now his voice is prisoned in the silent pathways of the night: 
his owner's faithful Maltese... 
but will...

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Here he stands, Edwardian vogue, sometimes with his spats, 
sometimes with his brogues below his dungarees. With rounded collar points and tie, and jacket donned below this flying suit, his waste is tied with simple...

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Hark and listen well, if those foretoken in the eyes of hungers lust
Trapped in their illusion, trampling the Stars into dust
Forced with the detestation stench by the swamp of absolute disgust
Thou blackest scorpion be accursed,...

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Many of us have a favorite possession from when we were young, and this 
93-year old gentleman is no exception.

               ...

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He just appeared to me, like wispily curling 
Chimney smoke, 
One grim and early morning in the very midst of 
Decembers briefest days, on the highest slope,
Toiling through my daily round; where, slowly 
Driving up...

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(continued from A Year Of Months (January-June)
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/heroic_crown_of_sonnets_-_part_one_772928


A Year Of Months (July-December)

8. July

July now follows summer's song of June;
with sun ablaze, her days are humid, warm.
Great time to languish in the afternoon,
and later, watch an evening...

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We were off,                                ...

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Stately stood Princess Amber in all her finery,
Emerald tunic over a crimson gown,
With gems inlaid in her rustling gown,
Her arms bangled in intricate gold slowly rose,
Her slender fingers rested on her heaving bosom,
Listening to unstopping...

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I ran out of breath on the road to Mumbai ...

    Not for sake of dust or smog or even health. I had rounded a curve on
    my motorcycle,...

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Act 3. A dark, empty stage.

Marat
(standing up)

My eyes went blank. That's how it goes when
you have been doubly knocked flat on your back
in half an hour. He went, he went,
he went, he went, he went,...

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It's been four years since I've seen so much as an insignificant mountain creek. Been overburdened with comfort, now frantic with nature withdrawals, having to settle for photos found on Google Images: emerald pine trees,...

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It's been four years since I've seen so much as an insignificant mountain creek. I've been overburdened with comfort, now frantic with nature withdrawals and having to settle for photos found on Google Images: emerald...

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Every second, every minute, every single thought about you
Wonders of this still could be too good to be true
Fluttering in my heart, palpitations go amiss
I yearn for the touch of your skin, and I constantly...

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thermometer reads zero, a chilly breeze blows
  apple cores thrown, the blackbirds feed
  my multi-layered partner dons her wooly hat
  impatiently, she waits for me
  securing covid masks amidst my overcoat
...

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The strong gust of wind was cut off from its source; a frigid early spring blast that swept across a lofty mountain range, high above British Columbia.

It then encircled one of the lesser peaks and...

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	GREEN DAY – revisited
     Although the following poetic/prosaic material written January eighteenth two thousand and eighteen, I came across these encapsulated, enclosed, encoded, and encrusted with barnacle clad body electric of...

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Everything I know...I learned from children’s books 

One day I ran to Grandpa and I looked into his ear.
“Mommy says you’re pretty smart…do you keep your brains in here?”

“Oh, It’s too dark. I can’t see...

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The old man stood;elbows resting on the old stone wall
Wistfully he gazed over the snow laden field,
Watching the sheep nibble on bales of hay,
He thought back remembering his working day.

In his leather like work hardened...

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The Deception of Free Verse: Dreams I, Translation of Etiemble’s L’imposture du vers libre by T. Wignesan 

(From René Etiemble’s only poetry collection: le Coeur et la cendre: soixante ans de poésie (the heart and...

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