Long Unappealing Poems
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Mother called her children 'round
and said I really hate to bother
but I have some rather sorry news,
I think I've lost your father.
He was in the garage a month ago
and the attic sometime before.
He could be in the basement now
but I really can't be sure.
It seems I've lost all track of him
and I haven't got a clue,
I need you kids to search him out,
won't you help me see this through.
Now I'm the eldest of her brood
and I felt some obligation,
so it seemed only right of me
to head up the investigation.
We were somewhat mystified
because dear old dad was dead,
so I had to ask the question
that was on everybody’s head.
Now dad had been cremated
after we held the wake,
some of him was buried
and the rest went to the lake.
So I looked at mom and softly said,
Are you sure you're not mistaken?
Because to the lake and to the grave
is where his remains were taken.
She said that wasn't completely true
and it turned quiet as a mouse.
She'd kept back an extra bit
so he could be around the house.
She never really liked the lake
and graveyards were unappealing
so she could visit him at home
if she ever got the feeling.
With all that said we got to work,
we searched both high and low.
The urn we sought was never found
but that's just the way it goes.
Day by day the years went by
and it was mother's time for dying.
She asked us to keep looking
and to never give up trying.
It wasn't too long after that
as I was clearing out some books
that I found the ashes she had sought
in a place where no one looked.
We took them both to their garden,
mixed with roses, most appealing.
Now she gets to visit him
whenever she gets the feeling.
Erotic Errata
by Michael R. Burch
I didn’t mean to love you; if I did,
it came unbid-
en, and should’ve remained hid-
den!
***
Less Heroic Couplets: Marketing 101
by Michael R. Burch
Building her brand, she disrobes,
naked, except for her earlobes.
***
Negligibles
by Michael R. Burch
Show me your most intimate items of apparel;
begin with the hem of your quicksilver slip ...
***
Warming Her Pearls
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
Warming her pearls,
her breasts gleam like constellations.
Her belly is a bit rotund ...
she might have stepped out of a Rubens.
***
Cover Girl
by Michael R. Burch
Cunning
at sunning
and dunning,
the stunning
young woman’s in the running
to be found nude on the cover
of some patronizing lover.
In this case the cover is a bed cover, where the enterprising young mistress is about to be covered herself.
***
First Base Freeze
by Michael R. Burch
I find your love unappealing
(no, make that appalling)
because you prefer kissing
then stalling.
***
Nun Fun Undone
by Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
Abbesses’
recesses
are not for excesses!
***
Less Heroic Couplets: Sex Hex
by Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
Love’s full of cute paradoxes
(and highly acute poxes).
Published by *Asses of Parnassus, Lighten Up Online* and *Poem Today*
***
Retro
by Michael R. Burch
Now, once again,
love’s a redundant pleasure,
as we laugh
at my childish fumblings
through the acres of your dress,
past your wily-wired brassiere,
through your panties’ pink billows
of thrill-piqued frills ...
Till I lay once again—panting redfaced
at your gayest lack of resistance,
and, later, at your milktongued
mewlings in the dark ...
When you were virginal,
sweet as eucalyptus,
we did not understand
the miracle of repentance,
and I took for granted
your obsessive distance ...
But now I am happily unbuttoning
that chaste dress,
unhitching that firm-latched bra,
tugging at those parachute-like panties—
the ones you would have gladly forgotten
had I not bought them in this year’s size.
Originally published by Erosha
Content Creative
--------------------------
By Rhapsodes" The Muckraker"
The Elaborate Composition
He dealt with the subject as only he could.
He was the leader of the Organization
the conductor of the Orchestra, the leader
of the band. first chair in the Ensemble.
It was rather unpleasant for him to remove
most of the material presented him. He felt
it outdated and often very unappealing.
He offered the presenters advice.
Trick me into liking it, rearrange it make it
more presentable for a modern audience.
I'd rather keep interest into what I am already
doing, and not have to relearn according to whoever
what we are doing now is effective and in a
manner of storying our time together this
does not make sense in into what's going on.
"I do like the songs: but the sounds are out dated!"
The storms of spring the following morning
bought him back into someone else's office.
We would sound as if we had been asked to
go somewhere and relearn our trade, redefine
our sound or adjust to something someone else
was doing. Diaspora does not define our present
state as we are today. Now if you wanted to make
pretend we had built a time machine to travel back
in time to do a video: or incorporate ancient
instruments into a modern sound that's cool.
But to do a ""way back song"
from nowhere sounds far fetched.
A Sinner
As I sit here contemplating this time in our lives
When everything wrong is right, and everything right is portrayed as wrong.
Some people in our society have proclaimed our lives as a lie
Our thinking is biased, and our feelings as unimportant.
They have viewed our morals and our beliefs as shallow, unappealing, and half-truths.
They have taken what we have been taught (justice, reliability, and truth– as -
Lies, unjustified, and untrustworthy and lies.
To actually legalize drugs-
To legalize immoral living-
To applaud murder-
To minimize genocide-
And wonder why there is so much killing, dying, murdering, suiciding, extirpating
and immortalizing all around us
It is not that hard to see that we’ve moved away from why we are at war and removed from home.
Or why we are alive - or- why we are here–
And what we are supposed to do with our lives, and who is on our side.
Man is playing God, trying to take life out of god’s hand, doing things their way.
Man has stopped listening to the only voice that deserves to be heard- Our redeemer-
And you wonder why there is so much chaos in the world-
After all, I am just sitting here contemplating this time in our lives- who am I to judge anyone-
For, I too am a sinner-
Xanadu arose quite sublime
A few short hours, all is mine.
Deeply asleep dreaming alone
Wandering stately pleasure dome
Kubla Khan, it seems, is my friend
Around pleasure garden we did wend
Bathed in Alph the sacred river
Beauty bestowed it did deliver.
Whispers echo in Xanadu's cavern
Darkness dispelled by magic lantern
Softly I spoke my echo to hear
It asked me bluntly what did I fear?
On reflection was not afraid
Of magical kingdom, I did invade
The sunless sea was unappealing
Yet, its waters promoted instant healing.
It has to be said a dream is just a dream
Where nothing is true not what it seems
Dream time shattered in morning light
Xanadu gone, it had taken flight.
'X' - Poetry Contest
Chosen Word: Xanadu
Sponsored
by:
Constance La France
30/04/2033
Pixabay Image by: AlanFrijns
Haru and RItm often seemed
out of place and often with
a certain concern.
Yindiao told Jidiao Giam Jiezou
not to Jiving Biayan
he was cheap on the Xuaniu
and lacked concern with
his Cantar's. He put a symbol to indicate
that they had only stumbled upon
the sounds and songs.
Only due to an alteration were they
clashed about what style they
wished to represent. Coda: divided
them as people. Some
where jealous
of each other.
Some were repositioned
because of there standings and appeal.
Six of us are alluring and Amorous
while others only had an uncertain appeal.
They dubbed some as Perfect voice
and unappealing: while the others
were super appealing and lacked
vocal giftiering.
Fussed they appealed to different sectors.
Ritm stood above the rest as he was
Super appealing and had a strong proud bassey voice.
" A World should hear these men sing"
While there the instruments sound magical the background singers
sound soothingly perfect!"
The Music producer said he found one in a tobacco fild.And the other guy was a Machinist at a Nevada Lithium Mine. Bothe were Pianist and guitarist and one was a reknowed flutist.
when I last looked
snow sprawled in
like an embrace from a foreign world
outdoor walk suspended
by squabbles of sleeted wet
unappealing chords
of ice pellets that stand hair on edge
to coat a hatless head in splinters
force that shapes a winter's pace
implanted temper
abrasions
in tracks of snow
as February squeezes into loins
an ache
my icy fingers
trace the window, vaporized
a shield of separation
a pledge of freedom re-booted
like green paths rising
a shifting focus
till March tramps into place
month of mis-rule
ornamental promise
that a turnstile world
clangs change
when I next look
to turn the page
Poem written February 23, 2023
In your eyes, I’m a nobody
Not much worth a look
Left unnoticed in one corner
Where no one saw me weep
Do I look unappealing, I wonder
Tried flashing a bright smile
Under the blinding noon sky
But still your eyes avoid mine
And you look past way beyond
Do I look blurry, I wonder
Finally, I caught a glimpse
When you tripped on my sore foot
But your gaze seemed ablaze
As if I was a lump on the road
Do I look frail, I wonder
Forgotten and uncared for
I felt exhausted and weak
Under the heat of the sun I rested
Till the storm passed through the night
Must I hold on, I wonder
One thing though is certain
I may be bruised and broken
But the love I have for you
Remains solid as a rock
5 April 2018
I have a funny feeling.
It is all so unappealing.
The dollar's hit the ceiling.
This may send the markets reeling.
If the markets hit the floor,
Paul says we'll all be poor.
Oh, how beastly! What a bore!
But Peter's not so sure:
"Whenever markets crash,
it's time to make a splash,"
and, as Grandma used to say,
"There'll be another day."
It's time for an excursion,
not for worry but diversion.
Who's for cream cakes and tea in Ealing?
Earl Grey or just Darjeeling?
We'll have to mend our fences
and go easy on expenses.
On this may all agree.
It's always time for tea.
How unappealing... the missus went bananas
courtesy hurling mandarin oranges.
Yes quite juvenile
unladylike childlike behaviour,
mine wife oft times doth display,
I do not deplore
yours truly reckons
tis futile effort causing furore
aye attest bull
in china shop incorrigible hardcore
exhibited by spouse
out of bounds antics bon jour
earlier within marriage
shenanigans twas the stuff
back in the day
sparking altercations, haint no lore
regarding wedded bliss
muddle aged doozy storied
married couple expressing
mutual love nevermore
did deux disparate
birds of a feather flock together
espousing total mortal kombat
(with looming fruity weapon
of mass destruction
living below poverty dirt poor
surviving (barely) hand to mouth
unable to afford
top of line high grade
clean atomic bombs rapport
re: ruining our reputation
as hoity toity main liners
portraying child's play
conflicts in East/West Timor
almost annihilating each other
i.e. zee Harris family
plus well nigh turning
planet Earth into vapour.
Sober realization of brinksmanship
brought now auld
geezers (defanged & harmless)
flinging foodstuffs cold
and/or frozen leftovers
(carbon dated), petrified extolled
as delicacy among Neanderthals,
who would value and
cherish fruit lobbed as
love's labour's lost more precious
(as a physical expression of affection)
more so than fine spun gold
thee rented man cave serves
atavistic trait hard rock cafe
functions as pleasant reminder,
where one percent genetic
stock originated (think noggin
rock hard iron maiden mold).
Backtrack to years spanning 2000-2010
wen furious red hot poker rage
twas unmanageable when living
under duress within Penn Valley
even tranquilizers could not assuage
harkening back when yours truly
under threat courtesy battle ax
and her henchwomen,
which matriarch took immediate dislike,
née rabid (foaming
at the mouth loathing)
towards yours truly
them days outright state
of undeclared warfare
found fury within me
exceeding the wrath of Kong!
Thank dog, I mellowed since then
gratuity prescription medication.