Long Tassels Poems

Instruction
by Michael R. Burch

Toss this poem aside
to the filigreed and the wild tide
of sunset.

Strike my name,
and still it is all the same.
The onset

of night is in the despairing skies;
each hut shuts its bright bewildered eyes.
The...

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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...

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Continued from Maya 1

At length, when the womens' screams had ceased
and the sound of the thunder had stopped,
he gathered his courage and withdrew himself
from his hiding place beneath the corn.
He left the hut and prostrated...

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A Bagpipe am I,
My drones point to the sky!
I am magic they say, since the wizard ‘spelled’ on me that day.

He gave me the gift of immortal time,
I could travel through centuries,
T’was a gift.
It was...

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Look out lads here we come
Couple of wild girls out for fun
Perfect hair and makeup's fine
Brand new perfume, we smell divine
Skin tight jeans, mini skirts and skimpy knickers
Can't wait for the party its theme is...

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The Naked brazen placid blue
Meets its foe the dark forbidding nemeses
Who unleashes his growing anger and fury
Obliterating and defeating his enemy
Proclaims a victory and unrolls his miserable shroud
With utter contempt
And spews his venom
Impregnating his virgin...

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There was a man from the town of Shimoda who lived a simple and contented life.
A stonecutter by trade, he would go to the mountain and look at the type of stone that people will...

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Subtitled: A Quiz Sic Hull Emotionally Test Ting Senior Event
 
Valedictorian treads across makeshift platform 
   i.e. most likely auditorium stage
marked by pronounced hushed audience, 
   who exude a collective sigh...

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Ego held me, captivated by his good looks,
a sculpted figure that only comes from princes of story books.
Everyday I'd sit and beseech the knowing, wise eyes
of the future, yearning for him to retrieve me from...

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When Marcelino Manuel da Graca aka Sweet Daddy Grace came to town.
 At an early age, I must admit that I was excited along with the majority of the Black community of the South East...

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I’m stealing through a twilit realm, the ancient pale of Whereis,
passing chambers of an Heiress
(though no need to feel embarrassed)
through a magic mystic mirror hanging curtainless.

A glimpse near naked alleyways (denuded by the moon) ex-
poses...

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**~~**

She seemed to be like a delicate portrait
   which had fallen from its gilded frame 
Abandoned, lying face down on the cold winter floor
   An elegant portrait once painted
In resplendent hues...

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She seemed to be like a portrait...
   which had fallen from its gilded frame
Abandoned...
   Lying face down on the empty, cold wintry floor. 
An elegantly created portrait once painted in striking...

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enjoy the reed
now displayed as a satisfactory deed.
*          *          *       ...

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People of sacred Cornucopias
found ourselves politically alone
competing to survive
in Earth's choking climates
of totally domesticated and over-run despair,
then neglect,
then more actively terrorizing abuses.

Corn People,
PolyCultural Planners,
greeting Yang-behaving bean bodies
growing up and into our digestive tracks
and tracts,
our speaking...

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By a mysterious twinkle in an all perceiving eye
A form energetic gentle breathing
The grand consummation of design
Ignited by universal dreaming
	
Enchanted stars into their life giving
The dance conceptual
The ballet between
Principals masculine and feminine

These consorts of the...

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Poppy
by Michael R. Burch

“It is lonely to be born.” – Dannie Abse, “The Second Coming”

It is lonely to be born
between the intimate ears of corn . . .
the sunlit, flooded, shellshocked rows.

The scarecrow flutters, listens,...

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Remember that scrawny little tree in the front yard.  A tiny shade for the children to play on summer days. Its protection of wide limbs adorned with green still remain firmly planted. Fifty years...

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ladies of the night 
are dressed in finest lace 
while hiding in the shadows 
where they never leave a trace 
on barren - broken - bastard streets 
these ladies have no face 
with tarnished tassels...

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Who decides what historical events adorn
textbooks students read,
     hence a starry notion born
grew up while

     this lumpenproletariat day dreaming,
     Asian aw shucks husky
...

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(my acknowledgement 
to the loose canon of Robert Frost)

An above average snowfall
heavily swathed sage heather 
followed by substantial unusual rainfall
punctuated months before, during and
after the growing season

delivered one of the
most hearty crop yields
in living memory...

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Seed - scattered strewn or downtrodden.
Grain stuck on passive flytrap mucus.
Wild life biomes ripe with  open sesame.
Frantic birth pangs stiffen their gestations as green  leaf ferments bubble underneath.
Mother of all wombs, diva pulse...

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Applications are done 
Relaxing under the sun  
High School tassels distant memory 
Senior prom night issues buried 
New relationships are the present worry 
Bringing stress with the luggage they carry 
Acceptance letter was received...

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"I wandered lonely as a cloud."  William Wordsworth


I wandered lonely as a boat   
a shallow dingy left behind,  
alone in marsh of reeds remote  
my paint now faint so unrefined,...

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Just a small country farm,
On a small country road,
A sixteen hand draft horse,
A pullin' the loads.

With maize as its mainstay,
Lofty tassels to the wind,
Lowly swine in the barn yard,
Venerable dairy cows in their pens.

Agrarian life's...

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