Long Typewriters Poems

Prose Poems

Something
by Michael R. Burch

Something inescapable is lost?lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars immeasurable and void. Something uncapturable is...

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The typewriters tap,
with a rat-a-tat-tat,
like a fourth estate rap
to provide us the pap
(that serves as a snack with a rat-a-tat-tat)
in a newspaper scrap
crammed with meaningless crap
from the editor's yap
(spewing flimflamy flak, booming rat-a-tat-tat)
after gashing a...

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Hey.
I’m Kacie.
Five feet
eight inches
of insanity
trapped in a fifteen year old body
with too much ambition
crammed into the seams.

I’ve got hair darker than obsidian
and eyes deeper than black holes
so trust me when I tell you
not to look...

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The most awaited result got announced, but 
Internet hadn't landed the soil of my country then.
Televisions were tabled in few pocketed places,
Still they worked, minute and achromatic.

With huge audience circled, signal was word alien,
Viewers would...

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The most awaited result got publicized, but
Internet hadn't landed the soil of my country.
Televisions were tabled in few pocketed places,
Still they worked, minute and achromatic.

With huge audience circling, signal was word alien,
Viewers would holler in...

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There is an antique writing desk
in my little study
handed-me-down
from generations of would-be
writers in my family

And there are ancient creatures
from days gone by
living in this old desk still
evil, larcenous little creatures
envious of literary skill

This explains much

Lately,...

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Breathe words.

They are the essence of life. Communication is universal and language is key.

Every word is powerful, and any utterance, no matter how small, has the power to wound, empower, enlighten, convict, condemn, control, sway,...

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Moulded electric plugs, go to landfill the earlier ones were sectional and re-useable,
 Copper tanks kept water
Hot all day; maybe two days, if they were bigger.' They were removed in the interests of
Sustainability..? Pre 1990...

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A poetry describing the last days of a schizophreniac. 
Typewriters click and emotions burst, 
I don’t know which love portion will quench my thirst, 
In an empty packet on my night table, there is a...

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"THE BUTTERFLY CATCHER."


Chicano face.
California.
closer to death.
he just pulled up to a house where the car he's about to tow sits.
he tows a lot of cars, 
talks to people every day. 
he's loaded his truck.
"goodbye," 
he...

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Undiscovered poets hear me, to PH draw near, 
This just might be a good chance for your views to ring clear.

An email address you need to get up and running, 
Huge monkeys it‘s said could...

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I would like to see
and hear
and feel a peaceful day
and silent night

When guns
are as rare as typewriters

When partisan hate
is as extinct as flying dinosaurs

When ranting out of anger
to instill fear
is as astounding
as love letters
written on...

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My old scribe said sit and I will tell you a story,                       ...

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We would buy the tickets and see the shows
We’d laugh at jokes and gasp at the scares
But we were only waiting.

We’d fill up the tank and hit the roads
We’d slow for the bumps and speed...

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“Flipping the Bluebirds” 

There’s no point playing
Norwegian Wood
when your keyboard’s 
like a gun calling  

murdering 
all your darlings 
for other meaningful
glories

lavender doesn’t sit well
when violet’s riddled story
winds up the beat 
dodging silver bullets

like sunshine...

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Old Times and New

I travel in my wandering mind
To a different day and time
Back to the mid-40's
When a cute young secretary was I.

Back when dresses marked size 14
Are current day skimpy 10s,
That's where this reminiscing...

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#62
bright hovering birds
sip from honeysuckle cups -
a tea monger's cart

#63
bees gather pollen
their legs and wings a blur -
golden alchemy

#64
frost punks spring's success
winter knife's the heart of fall -
summer love can't last

#65
man cuts word in half
and...

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Termites  
                           chatter
     ...

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My grandkids gather around my hearth and think it's so great,
To listen to tales of my youth that to them I love to relate.
They sit with mouths agape and with attentive ear,
As I tell them...

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A few of the famous had their preferences.  Jack
Kerouac went on the road with his Underwood early thirties
portable Royal Standard.  Isak Dinesen, the Danish Dinosaur, 
(said with love, she was my hero) used...

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A Memory. 
I once was an errand boy and had a big bike that had no gears and 
our town was hilly. In front of the bike there was a steel mesh box 
to put...

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Are they ghosts inside the radio
just a beggars song living on the street
an echo within an echo
all the songs of love and peace

All the poets and the songsters
the authors freedom written in their pen
humanities wish...

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What Rusts In The Rain
(For The Memory Of William S. Burroughs 
& Typewriters)  

It is Lawrence, Kansas and the sky opens
up as if a doppelganger of all mothers and 
wombs
Leaving out rain as milk...

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Oh how well I do remember
Dear Miss McConnell’s typing class.
Fumbling fingers seeking home keys,
And so afraid I wouldn’t pass.

The quick brown fox jumps over the…..
I was assigned that exercise.
No lettering on the keypads,
My fingers had...

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concerto strings flicker in the empty spaces of life we all fight in the gutters for
freedom death graces us with its presence but once (or nine times if you are a cat) but
you are not...

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