Long Star crossed Poems
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Lyrics are timed to music
Out there - a distant shore
I’ve seen your face before
It’s De’ja`vu with thoughts of you
Then feelings of a loss, come tomorrow
Sometime - another place
I’ve seen - your smiling face
It’s De’ja'vu of thoughts I knew
Love is meant to be, not the sorrow
I searched, beyond the stars
I looked beneath the moon
I know JUST KNOW - without a DOUBT
My heart - will show me soon
Oh way out there - a distant land
That’s where - my love began
Now De’ja'vu fills thoughts anew
So happy again - come tomorrow
So far, beyond that star
We’ll kiss far beneath the moon
I know, without a DOUBT
My heart will show me where soon
I’m sure, with wings I’ll soar
With love, I knew before
I’ll spread my wings I’ll learn to fly
And never ever again - be broken hearted
Oh we can fly with wings on high
Then never ever again, we’ll be parted
Synopsis of total De’ja’vu play that these lyrics were composed for:
The lives of two lovers was torn apart way back in the 14th century when she was banished. The interference could have caused a Pattern shift of Destiny in the Loom of Time. Could a certain couple be the same star crossed lovers that have searched for each other through many lifetimes over the centuries?
A wise mystical character from the bygone era is a keen observer and blames himself for not intervening. He also wonders that since the Earth is the cradle of humanity, would humans have progressed past the cradle in this day and age.
Foot note:
Ron and I love musical theater. After seeing a disappointing play, he rose to my challenge in regard to the comment he made that he could have written better. The result was De’ja’vu, a Romantic Musical.
I wrote the lyrics in collaboration with him, but due to the enormous staging costs the music was never written and we abandoned the project.
The lyrics for this piece have been tweaked to ‘La mer’, also known as ‘Beyond the Sea’ and one of my Dad’s favorite songs. (Wish he was here, he would have composed the music)
Sorry folks, if and when we find suitable music to the lyrics of the Grand Finale, I’ll post it
"One Soulmate Love To A Lifetime"
There is one Soulmate Love to a lifetime!
A heart and soul searching only for you.
When soulmates make contact they hear Love's chime,
knowing their Love will "forever" be true!
A heart and soul searching only for you.
Past lives are thought to be the origin,
knowing their Love will "forever" be true!
This soul searching has it's own regimen!
Past lives are thought to be the origin.
Star crossed lover's separated in the past!
This soul searching has it's own regimen,
for even time this Love search will outlast!
Star crossed lovers separated in the past.
Though then doomed this Love transcends all of time,
for even time this Love search will outlast,
for the feel of Deja Vu is a sign!
Though then doomed this Love transcends all of time.
Soulmates see a past in each others eyes,
for the feel of Deja Vu is a sign!
There is no escaping it though one tries!
Soulmates see a past in each other's eyes.
Two souls together unlock true Love's door!
There is no escaping it though one tries.
Destiny has determined this and more!
Two souls together unlock true love's door!
When soulmates make contact they hear Love's chime!
Destiny has determined this and more.
There is one Soulmate Love to a lifetime!
WTA-IV 5/3/2016
I remember like it was yesterday
but it was years ago and another lifetime ago
that I fell in love with a man
it was a love that could never grow
could never be
I was working for the Government of Canada
for Health and Welfare
and was sent way up north as part of a group
to see the conditions in isolated villages and towns
we were given wilderness guides
because it was not like you could just take a car
to get there
one was called Claude he spoke the language
of the Inuit and was our translator
this was his life and he seemed to love the snow wilderness
I spoke a lot with him
and overtime we became friends and of course
I was falling in love and he loved me too
we set sail on an ocean of snow white love
one night he invited me to his cabin in the woods
I lost myself in a place of a thousand trees
and in front of a blazing fire we found paradise
my hair a flowing dark river streaming
his voice music for my soul
we knew that our love was doomed
there was no promise between us
for I would be leaving for the civilization soon
back to the city life that I loved
I could never see myself in this isolated place
and I knew he did not belong in a city
so we enjoyed our nights as star-crossed lovers
dreading the end but knowing it was soon
and the drums of time rolled
we both decided that our love would end when I left
there would be no long distance romance
no letters and no communication ever
we would become shadows on the wall of time
I would never see him again
when that day came it was so hard
I left by a small aircraft it was not like there was an airport
looking out the window
my eyes swelled with tears
he waved goodbye to me and turned away
as clouds sailed across the snowy sky
and that is the last time I saw him
love is a guest that comes unbidden at times
yet, I find a sweetness amid the dregs of the past
where memories of him shake the ocean of my sleep
and I know that I will never forget him, never
for I keep him in a secret place within my heart
he will always be that young northern wilderness guide
with the beautiful voice and smile
even when I am withered old
HUNGARIAN RHAPSODY
Her hand’s swan-like dance,
ivory shadow puppets
romance. Hungarian rhapsody.
The musician sans existence
as emotive fingers move
imaginary marionettes
with splendiferous precision.
Drama drops onto piano keys
occasionally taking a gentle stroll
then in sensuous sway, sashaying
like an exotic dancer. The musician
plucks and plinks as if
with chameleonic charm, like an
angel playing a harp.
Her fingers fast walk the keyboard
then resound tremulous keys.
(The audience swoons, spooned
by a rapturous torrent that enters
the heart, strokes and kisses
the yearning flesh, like the taste
and feel of brandy, burning and
tantalizing in breathlessness)
The musician’s slender fingers
now strum along in gaiety, like
paramours on the streets of Paris,
Springtime in the air. Palms nearly
rest upon silent keys as if two lovers
lay back upon a bed with puffs of smoke.
Dawn’s crescendo, with peaks of happiness
reside upon streets of ebony and ivory.
Life’s serendipitous monologue begins
once more with foreboding or adventure
or both. Is there loneliness upon this crest
for what has happenstance brought,
are they star-crossed? Do we see the sun
and the moon racing through their pulse —
days of birth and mourning?
(The blond marionette in concert black
seems to be mesmerized or hypnotized
by the muse of music. She’s like a dream
on a performance stage. Practiced in
illumination of flame. She releases the arrow
and the audience brightens up like a chandelier
with clinking and brilliant crystal pieces)
Happiness once again but with ferocious fervor
sends the keys to a heavenly place - to ears,
to mind, to soul...a cheer of a great parade,
and then the shivering of climatic peak,
followed by a lullaby of dreams - we imagine
a newborn wrapped up in a life well-lived.
The darling gal still doesn’t give up the ghost
but plays and plays...can you hear the needle
stuck at the vinyl’s end...spending all love gives?
Only the Creator Himself can lift the arm and
carry the musician still incubating all her charm.
3/19/2018
Afterglow
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
The night is full of stars. Which still exist?
Before time ends, perhaps one day we’ll know.
For now I hold your fingers to my lips
and feel their pulse ... warm, palpable and slow ...
once slow to match this reckless spark in me,
this moon in ceaseless orbit I became,
compelled by wilder gravity to flee
night’s universe of suns, for one pale flame ...
for one pale flame that seemed to signify
the Zodiac of all, the meaning of
Love’s wandering flight past Neptune. Now to lie
in dawning recognition is enough ...
enough each night to bask in you, to know
the face of love ... eyes closed ... its afterglow.
The Insurrection of Sighs
by Michael R. Burch
She was my Shiloh, my Gethsemane;
she nestled my head to her breast
and breathed upon my insensate lips
the fierce benedictions of her ubiquitous sighs,
the veiled allegations of her disconsolate tears . . .
Many years I abided the agile assaults of her flesh . . .
She loved me the most when I was most sorely pressed;
she undressed with delight for her ministrations
when all I needed was a good night’s rest . . .
She anointed my lips with her soft lips’ dews;
the insurrection of sighs left me fallen, distressed, at her elegant heel.
I felt the hard iron, the cold steel, in her words and I knew:
the terrible arrow showed through my conscripted flesh.
The sun in retreat left her victor and all was Night.
The last peal of surrender went sinking and dying—unheard.
Star Crossed
by Michael R. Burch
Remember—
night is not like day;
the stars are closer than they seem ...
now, bending near, they seem to say
the morning sun was merely a dream
ember.
The State of the Art (?)
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 passion been coerced?
Shall poetry fade slowly,
like Latin, to past tense?
Are the bards too high and holy,
or their readers merely dense?
Our lives produce such struggles
to which we must rise!
And often we find places
that from which we would run and hide.
But just remember that Your choice
will bring the happiness you seek...
Just Be the Brave one you wish
The one you still want to be.
For I am here to catch you,
to help and see you through,
within your dreams or trials of life;
whether on mountain or cliff
whichever weso choose to climb.
Remember this as you feel you are sinking.
or slipping from the walls you've been clinging.
The climb may tire the muscles
as we reach for the top,
and make us weaker in our strength
while we try to here hang on.
But if we just let go,
and trust the our heart to know what's right
we will never be led to far away;
Though even trodding in the night.
And do not fear the way back down!
For how many birds fly,
when still nested on the Ground.
And if, by chance,
your wings you fail to find...
From your fall I'll catch you,
and lead you on through time.
For how many learn to open there wings
whilst the mud stayed fixated about their feet.
The Winds of the sky need your wings to catch,
to fly you to the heavens
where the angels await you to meet,
and lead you to that better place.
A place we can not even dream.
So with the lightest breeze
they will teach us how to soar...
and lift us from our agony and woe.
Thus ending the anguish
as your wings fill there up.
to fly with them forever more.
The Ground is not safe nor is the air,
but what life would we live
if we never did dare.
Where angels fear
and devils are faint...
If Love durst not
then forever must then wait.
I remember the story
of two who fell in love...
His name became his enemy,
and He o'er her family
She did make that choice.
I would be that Romeo,
say you my Juliet...
And with you in my arms
I would die once more again.
With you I would cast off the sins,
an choose to hold you in the end.
When together,two become one,
Star crossed lovers
can find the peace of each others arms.
when as one we will fly,
Into that bitterless sky.
The Egyptian standard falls, unto histories surrendering,
The deserts breath, is so stilled, under the Nile river's
Murky abyss, busted masts, heave against the
Heavily laden hauls,taring the ships apart,
As the Egyptian fleet sinks beneath the waters surface.
A shooting flame of arrows, lights this tender box,
Of human flesh and bone, in wars clash of titans,
Rome must concur all nations.
Survivors screaming for salvation’s protection,
But help will not come, for Horas is a
Defeated deity, hiding within his own temple to
The east.
Broken is the heart of Egypt, as a daggers sharp edge,
Is plunged into the body of a living god, the last Pharaoh,
Known as Cleopatra.
Cradling misfortune's solider, Mark Anthony, she thus weeps,
Behold love's most tragic couple of history.
With his last breath, he calls unto she, by names sake
Alone, Cleopatra, than remains stilled.
Lord thy last falcon has left the golden land,
Welcome him, she thus bids farewell, to hearts warrior,
Cleopatra.
A mortal woman holds her lover, within destiny’s arms,
Soar with the great eagles, my love, for soon I'll join thee,
In the great halls of our ancestors.
Tragedies star crossed lovers, partake in the bitterest
Of fruit, dried are these figs, once ripened by the sun,
Now unpalatable by discord’s taste.
Nay, all the power and wealth of Egypt itself,
Could sever, the silver threads joining these two,
From one another.
Lovers heart, bound even after death itself,
Shall they walk forever, within the valley of
The dead together, silhouetted figures, embracing
Reunification’s promise vows expressed long ago,
Written within their hearts eternal.
Lain in a golden gown, the queen of the Nile
Does she rest, beneath death's slumbering shadow,
A serpents bite, has laid waste to a dynasty’s blood line.
Behold how in the heaven two eagles do soar,
Blanketed by the golden warmth of the sun,
As the passages of the hear after open wide
Their mighty gates, each name is spoken with
Honor pride, behold Mark Anthony and Cleopatra.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
“The heaventree of stars” (in Ulysses as said Joyce)
“hung with humid nightblue fruit” (ah that Bloomian voice)
could evoke a masterpiece the world has come to know,
The Starry Night, so treasured now, by Vincent van Gogh…
In Vincent’s time that painting left even him bemused,
since a ‘failure’ he proclaimed it— that’s the term he used.
He thought he’d reached for stars too big, at too great a height,
but had gone astray; thus he fell short in his own sight.
When he died, no golden eulogistic bells were rung.
His grand galactic genius went utterly unsung.
Oh ill-starred Vincent lunatic asylumed costly fraught distraught instead of bought untold unsold back then yet now extolled far-famed with pricey precious adoration legacied in legend lionized er ionized and glorified chronologized hymned lauded honored canonized enskied aye aye exalted to the skies near-sainted hallowed round the clock as fickle ironies of fate can mock…
Yes, van Gogh was so star-crossed in so many senses.
Gazing at the skies he saw whithers, whys, and whences…
Comparing stars to dotted map led him to ponder
that as one takes a train to destinations yonder
here on earth, perhaps we would ‘take death to reach a star’
or afterlife dimension in hemisphere afar.
The Whirlpool Galaxy his imagination fired
with spiral arms of lanes of stars that indeed inspired
and starburst regions interspersed with dust, in display
of luminescent light not unlike the Milky Way
if it were to overturn and shower forth its jars
in a madly whirling swirling twirling stream of stars.
Anyhow in one way Vincent’s vision was dead right.
Long lives his stellar afterlife in The Starry Night!
To end these astro-reveries with celestial quote
on brighter note, “Hope is in the stars,” the artist wrote.
Van Gogh could see eternity in the heavens’ dome,
in the cycling cosmic courses— there his dreams found home.
~ Harley White
Just For top experience mode ...https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wPfGo3bek3Q
I dreamt upon a ocean shore
Beyond the norm
I open a strange unsecure door
The key that which held in my hand was once gold
Floating above my palm it's layers began to fold
Once a key, twice a sword
Thrice old Lord
Standing valiant among the horde
Time stopped, waves dropped,
Thunder rolled Into one last pop
Outside the concepts of time,
A never ending plain that forever stops
Time eased In slow motion..
Seeming to link with my notions
The key unlocked the door to my emotions
Drowning is what I feared..
Now it's just a fabled leer
Windows of my thoughts..fade
Then reappear
Sparrows soar above, echoing on a rising tide
Down to my ears
The ocean becomes bliss..
Music chants to my soul,
Rain pours down in slow motion
Coming to wash away my erosion
I look into see the rain as it falls
Crystal clear bubbles appear
Filled..
with my thoughts dawned raw
I stand, absorbing it all..
A white tiger approaches in the distance
Reminding me what I'm missing
Intimately we face each other
Our faces the same as star crossed lovers
My spirit within is this animal
Wrapped in black and white covers
It leaps through me
And soaks me in the sea
Absent fear, I just let it be
Falling in reverse...
The tiger made me see
I land on the moon
The tiger, granting me his boon
Traveling through oceans,
Then spaces
Immune through grace
I did not swoon
No need to breathe
The essences is inside me
I gaze to earth,
It's conscious I now see
Round and round until eternity
I loom around, finding nothing of use
desolation surrounds me
Lifted off, I embody a Sparrow
Soaring to mars..
I can't explain it
was something wooing me
I burst forth with emotion
The ocean floods from me
I drench it's deserted surface..
Painting the canvas of sobriety
Life ends..
Then begins from a bowl of finality
The eastern star twinkles for humanity
A tad over three blocks down Merion Lane
on the left is, an idyllic Cape Cod.
I must've passed it a thousand times
my own picturesque, perfect, postcard place
couched in the right light, dappling rays
fresh-painted, white fence, ruby red front door.
Never once did I not try looking in,
a golden kickplate, bright brass knocker ring.
Begging to be seen, this family within
lotsa plain pane windows, no blinds, no sheers.
There it still stands proudly these many years.
In deep snows that had filled front walkways
in warming, romantic, radiated, lustrous light
hearth hues burst through the panes beyond the glass.
One spring, I saw a fine fetching lass run
across this closely manicured front lawn with her
bouncing blonde, long locks, glowing gleefully.
I mused as I passed by half-staring;
we'd marry maybe, wishful pairing!
And have a dreamy storybook Cape Cod too.
That fall, our family moved far away.
But was I not to see her, who's to say?
Still, I remember that house, that dream
I might've married her, my crazy scheme.
Last night it snowed. Drove that road again.
Five years later, that same house was still there.
On the outside, the front door now lime green.
Inside, a fire burns brilliant like before.
I saw this striking blonde while I gawked.
Startled, the green door opens, she walked
across the snowy street, without her coat.
Poised, she stood there and said straight to me,
"Aren't you the boy who used to stare?",
through my window I gush, "Why yes, I am."
She said she'd wondered about me,
even though they'd never known my name.
Star-crossed, my illusion had dreamt back!
Those private affections landed somehow:
illusions can come true, they often do.
Left my car, took her hand, then went inside;
over a cozy cocoa we chatted.
No longer a star from afar - so near.
New worlds would now open for us right here.
Lost love came home to the house down the road.
Written 2/19/21