Long Speculate Poems

Epigrams

Autumn Conundrum
by Michael R. Burch

It’s not that every leaf must finally fall,
it’s just that we can never catch them all.

Piercing the Shell
by Michael R. Burch

If we strip away all the accouterments of war,
perhaps we'll discover...

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

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

State of the Art (II)

These are my "ars poetica" poems about the art and craft of writing poetry. 



What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch

What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer 
~~~~underwater~~~~
watching the shoreline...

Read More

I wrote a sad but true urban legend called “Dillen and the DMV” last week.
Here follows an update.

Background Review:

One of my health care employees, Dillen, has wicked ADD, borderline intelligence, not qualifying for disability supports,...

Read More

Poems about Poets I


The Wonder Boys
by Michael R. Burch

for Leslie Mellichamp

The stars were always there, too-bright cliches:
scintillant truths the jaded world outgrew
as baffled poets winged keyed kites—amazed,
in dream of shocks that suddenly came true ...

but...

Read More

Date:  September  2050

Damian stood at the front door 
Ushering everybody out to the waiting 
Limousine. "Come on my People 
Be quick about it wifies!"  Sidney
And Saderi were willing to go along
For the...

Read More

We are the days that we’ve become. 
moments dripping gifted from
the lounging clocks in rolling melted sightings, 
given by the gifted madness of a soulmate’s fightings. 

Our lives wrapped up in phrases coined
in books like,...

Read More

And still his death haunts webbed wide world post American Civil War

Preface: On the evening of April 14, 1865, while attending a special performance of the comedy, "Our American Cousin," President Abraham Lincoln was shot.

President...

Read More

A Place Not Meant To Be
           
PART: I            (810 of 1487 words)

#1: A Day...

Read More

I believe it was Buckminster Fuller
who first posited
a prime appositional,
like Yang and Yin,
but his was:
Energy is to physical nature
as Information is to metaphysically languaged systems.

And,
if we were to add the Yin and Yang
of this positivist-regenerative...

Read More

Onerous task confronted teachers and parents

As prospective students
ably ready themselves to matriculate
and/or first set little feet 
inside halls of learning,
I rebroadcast a poem crafted
at the height of Covid-19.

A couple years gone back educators
adaptation regarding coronavirus...

Read More

OK

It’s ok to think I'm disabled, it’s not ok to ignore my atheism;
It’s ok to know I'm firstly an atheist, it’s not ok to assume this has always been obvious; 
It’s ok to understand that...

Read More

Ford's Theater, April 15th, 1865...
Petersen House, Washington, D.C.

I admit to own a passion
for the Civil War in general,
and the life and death of
the sixteenth president in particular
between a hard spot of whiskey
and draughts of arrack;
nonetheless...

Read More

All that does encompass bespeaks wonder in everything
bubbling brooks and waterfalls does your glory ring
terrestrial and celestial ever fill our eyes with seeing
how can not it's splendor not fill our very being
 
raindrops in waters...

Read More

{"You continuously threaten me that I’ll eventually die alone, though it’s a pang against my heart I hear none of it though ferociously, the insides of me are hurricanes. 
Reservoir myself, I live alone to...

Read More

I didn't even see you coming but yet u want me to watch you leave 
A room filled with silence, and the sound of broken dreams
I try to hide that my voice is shaking 
My...

Read More

Expiry date               
                 14.

I taught...

Read More

Recherché poetic themes stock in trade of yours truly

No surprise, rhyme nor reason,
I tease out extraordinary threads,
sometimes deliberately writing
about current calendar day or season

for instance today July 28th, 2020
another hazy, hot, and humid summer day
and...

Read More

I know there's something you wanna say
'Cause you ain't the same as yesterday's yesterday
You're far more distant from me then you used to be
Something's wrong - stopping you from being free
You're choking on whatever it...

Read More

Baseless incriminations heaped upon head of missus...
courtesy evil ferocious wraithlike grimace

Acrimonious scurrilous words
flew out the mouth
of vicious nasty shortish brute
leaving yours truly
as a key witness dumbfounded.

Outrageous spluttering claims
of stolen parcels
plus ransacked jewelry
totaling to the tune
of...

Read More

Life has no physical form or shape. Life is an essence we all calculate
We calculate our days by looking at a calender to see 
What month, day or year were at.
Days go by quickly sometimes...

Read More

I've come to say a few things about our political involvement,
Important is this because our future is on the edge of  precipice,
And is dangerously tilting irreversibly towards enslavement,
If urgently not arrested we pay the...

Read More

REINCARNATION THINKING?

Life is like a coloring book
with few or many pages
filled with complex 
outlined images.

We are given a box of crayons
and are asked to color in the 
background and spaces of the images

Sub-titles are allowed.

When...

Read More

I wish to reminisce
Upon the bliss
Of triumph
And the agony
Of tragedy;
Are they not twin and twisted ends
Observed as life occured
In random spurts and trends?

To calculate and gauge his fate
Man did create
The chime of time;
One more illusion...

Read More