Long Take for granted Poems

Spiritual Mahjong
Your Move Lord

Is there a God?
A benevolent entity.
An eternal presence presiding over me.
A creator, watching and observing.
All knowing.
Is my end determined and conclusive before it begins, before I begin?
If so, then to what purpose...

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"Oak" 

The guardians
stood around and 
shook their heads

great thoughts 
quivering 
from the ground, roots up, 

as if to walk 
confidently 
with great armies

yet hesitation 
was witnessed
in their waving gestures

perplexed 
and touching 
green crowns, 

there they...

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"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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Food glorious food

Asia generic guy gastronomy (and how gourmet foods eat destructively clearly beyond any) excess enthusiasm, the necessity to feed and clothe this lean mean exercising machine gunning corporeal essence christened Matthew Scott Harris...

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“The Fallen”



Remote,
he sees himself 
in the reflection of cold close 
yet distant shop windows, 
his final journey along the 
Hard Time Road
walking alone, 
unforgiven, no home
for the rest of his natural life 
a million knives...

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No, Freddie can’t say he mourned when his father died and his father’s third wife found Freddie's number and gave him a call to give him the news. His father had been responsible, worked hard,...

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GILGAMESH . . .  

Story has it you used your power to run amuck
Putting fear into the people, and brides in Unuk

So the people of Unuk pray to the sky God Anu
To sort out...

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Medieval Poem V

A Proverb from Winfred's Time
anonymous Old English poem, circa 757-786
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
The procrastinator puts off purpose,
never initiates anything marvelous,
never succeeds, and dies alone.

2.
The late-deed-doer delays glory-striving,
never indulges daring dreams,
never succeeds,...

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(In a Lush Garden Somewhere Out There)

The student stands where shifting sands of thought,
Once firm with reason, now elusive truths are sought.
Its splendor wanes, a threadbare, fading strand,
A quest for wisdom, in this digital land.

Sage:...

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Winter Awakens My Care
anonymous Middle English poem, circa 1300
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Winter awakens all my care
as leafless trees grow bare.
For now my sighs are fraught
whenever it enters my thought:
regarding this world's joy,
how everything...

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Salve
by Michael R. Burch

for the victims and survivors of 9-11

The world is unsalvageable ...
but as we lie here
in bed
stricken to the heart by love
despite war’s
flickering images,

sometimes we still touch,

laughing, amazed,
that our flesh
does not despair
of love
as...

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"Smooth Big Cat"



He was one of those guys you just knew would be a dud. "Be nice", she said to herself.

She met him on the upswing from the abyss of a dismally closed final chapter....

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The language and images of Mario Vitale's poetry are so closely bound to the natural cycles of seasons, of generations, of the body's functioning, that is surprising to realize how many of his poems deal...

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I wanted to write
 The best slavery poem   ever written—
Perhaps win a Pulitzer or Faulkner. 

I had every intention of conforming 
To the standards 
Of modern verse and composition, 
Lyrics fluidly written, 
Perfect...

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Being a “Poet” Can Be Painful!


I’ve likely told you, more than once, that poetry can be painful, and whined about the need for penning verse

That stems from deep inside my soul...fashions every word...and has become,...

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I sung all the night with the Devil,
It seemed harmony had found itself spooning with dissonance
Not indeed needing to be one or the same
Yes—the light indeed could sustain itself in the midst
Of what then was...

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"White Noise and the Mother Load of Dark Matter" 

underneath the static
what exists 
is never seen nor heard

for what it truly is 
the eyes and mind 
retaliate in the deciphering

the invisible return 
each night and...

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"A word like a river flows through the mind"                          ...

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Translations of the Oldest English Rhyming Poems

The Rhymed Poem aka The Rhyming Poem aka The Riming Poem
Old English/Anglo-Saxon poem from the Exeter Book, circa 990 AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

(excerpt)
He who granted me life...

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I have a lot to write and say, buddy, so hear me out some more
Don’t make me feel lower than I have ever felt before…
Listen, understand and stay quiet until I say no more…sorry if...

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~ With  The  Lord  ~
( The Bell )



With
God endure
All each single day
Walking with Lord is Joy
With Him can only win
Through God feel see Love
With God have Love Faith Hope
Peace

~o~0~o~

The
Lord is  there
He's...

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The Council room, back on the fifth floor of the Keep, was quite busy upon their arrival.  They stood just outside of the door waiting for the councilman to complete the business at hand...

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Headlights messaged through midnight windows 
Curtainless glass unable to subdue the urgency 
Car obtained in street nearby was theirs temporarily
Three hour drive to ship leaving island next morning

Two sixteen year old girls barely registered surprise...

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1.

                                  ...

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A Most Courageous American President for the Ages

I thought it would be most appropriate for me to take a moment to
share some of my reflections on the life and distinguished public
service of the late 41st...

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