Long Tillage Poems

Fahr an' Ice
by Michael R. Burch

From what I know of death, I'll side with those
who'd like to have a say in how it goes:
just make mine cool, cool rocks (twice drowned in likker),
and real fahr...

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"Again... I apologize but threefold times                             ...

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Within the frame a sepia scene
a dusty porch   a rickety chair   
the fabric of your dusky face creased
with ceaseless sunbaked woes
your old pair of getaway feet gives 
a different walk of...

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Those were such happy days, for I had lately been deeded a farm,
My aunt and uncle were retiring, so tillage had lost its charm.

Since they were childless, and to a retirement community bound,
It seemed I...

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Their rending cries, when all is still, reecho in the moonlight;
They lie about in fitful slumber on the ground at noonlight,
Their virgin hair spread in the dust; for nothing really matters:
Who then will see their...

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Sweet Centerless Sixteen
by Michael R. Burch

Inconsolable as “love” had left your heart,
you woke this morning eager to pursue
warm lips again, or something “really cool”
on which to press your lips and leave their mark.

As breath upon...

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"Through the Vicious Eyes of Love"



All is fair 
in love and war

or so they say;

why so 
as saints,
mothers 
go through
the course of whore 
to feel torn in two
journeying
through gates 
that open 
unleashed pain -

then, at...

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Cuz while ya steel got
moxie, don't nix chance if only a dot
before death finds 
     flesh rotting alot.

A self-actualized fringe benefit
     as I racked up
  ...

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Nationwide Insurance twas on my side yay
cuz, earlier this July forth
     two thousand eighteen ja way
windows closed, doors locked, and

     car keys visibly splayed
   ...

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Throughout time
I think of what’s mine
My skin, for what has meaning
And a story full of remorse
A period of freedom fighting
Beating “frees”
And a devastating course
A collaboration of cultures
Which my ignorance can’t know
My chapters filled
From an unknown...

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Why did the Native Tribal man decide to build the tee-pee for shelter?
Why did the origin of Africa build dirt houses?
     The Caucasians and Australians architectural designs formed.
Does anyone know why people of color...

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There’s a wizard in the Ivory House,
speaking grandiose
The klu 
is in the bewitching words 
he spew

This be the klux of the matter — 
See the toxic spiellage
vapor wasted 
‘pon the global village

His pagan echo klan
got...

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The apple fell to earth. It was bitten through
it rolled; mossy soil coated the tooth-cleaved part.
Already grubs were working their way out
of the pith creating a teeming mulch.

Adam had fallen asleep yet again.
the overripe grapes...

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He was airlifted to another place. 
The heath, the dales, 
the ridges, the high moors,
they all began to slip away 
under throbbing wings. 

Occasionally a woman would approach,
a silk moth in the semi-gloom
of a night...

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He was airlifted to another place.
The heath, the dales,
the ridges, the high moors,
they all began to slip away
under throbbing wings.

Occasionally a woman would approach,
a silk moth in the semi-gloom
of a night flight;
he was tucked semi-consciously
into...

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Each petal, leaf, each vein, each thorn, not any one the same,
Stand tall in there duty protecting Their tillage from the dark winged shadows circling the sky's mains
The wind slightly changes and they sway so...

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Flower smiles in the morning
To overthrow any mourning,
Engendering the feeling
That begins soft healing:
Flower displays our choicest elegance,
Exuding the firmest fragrance,
Past striding the hellish gate into the territories of Hate:
All the time too good for the...

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unnatural is a pause of heart,
streams crown'd slow with rusted leaves,
time's slow slide in autumn's light,
must move, always, on to the right,

the tillage of the mortal grasp,
sweat and salted leather both,
of blistered skin on graven...

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The apple fell already bitten upon,
a mossy soil coated where the tooth-cleaved.
Soon grubs worked their way out
of the pith
creating a teeming mulch.

Adam had fallen asleep again,
in his gut overripe grapes fermented
turning now to drunken snores.

The...

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The rising sun has set.
Night has fallen.
The plow rests,
tillage and toil finished.
The corn ear withers,
but seeds are saved.
The scrolls are opened
event recorded;
the news spread:
"The sun has set,
the old Owl has flown
into the Heavens."

Yet, the sun...

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As the sky shed tears of joy,
the ground hurriedly swallows these tear drops,
making tillage easier,
dormant seeds sprout out to show that  they are still living,
dry ponds come alive,
As cat fish,mud fish and others dance...

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1. Rain, Ambrosia of existence, by its showers.	
2. Besides source of crops, nourishment to consumers.
3. If rain ceases, wide cosmos is famished.
4. If stormy-rain diminishes, tillage also becomes impractical.
5.Rain destroys, as destroyer indeed, preserves ruined.
6.If...

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…undeniably tattered and shredded
my itinerary compromised by being
considered as prey and being
expected as a masochistic self-flagellator
losing revenue to the big gun’s atrocious tillage of the mind’s phosphorescence
I bagged the boy’s brigade for being bridges
and then...

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A consistently poor wage
Licenses rage:
An ugly fight against the cage,
Steady enveloping of stagnant wage,
A temper warning every wedge,
Rising while lowered with vintage.

Hirers open a sterile page,
Not a complimenting line for a sage:
Reflections of his usage,
Not...

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Tillage
by Michael R. Burch

(a coronavirus poem about stasis and potential for recovery by reconnecting)

What stirs within me
is no great welling
straining to flood forth,
but an emptiness
waiting to be filled.

I am not an orchard
ready to be harvested,
but...

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