Long Vagabond Poems

LOVE POEMS III by Michael R. Burch

These are love poems by Michael R. Burch about passion, desire, lust, sex, dating, relationships, devotion and marriage. 


Violets
by Michael R. Burch

Once, only once,
when the wind flicked your skirt
to...

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Beckoning
by Michael R. Burch 
 
Yesterday the wind whispered my name
while the blazing locks
of her rampant mane
lay heavy on mine.
And yesterday
I saw the way
the wind caressed tall pines
in forests laced by glinting streams
and thick with...

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If I Falter
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

If I regret
fire in the sunset
exploding on the horizon,
then let me regret loving you.

If I forget
even for a moment
that you are the only one,
then let me forget that the...

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"Dream 1: 4 Weeks in Positano"



Kisses long linger warm lips tasted intense
so sweet like cured Valencia Oranges
lips liquored triple sec not dry drunk on love
softly grazed, then held long

slow, deep, warm and wet

The story is...

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Regret
by Michael R. Burch

Regret,
a bitter
ache to bear . . .

once starlight
languished
in your hair . . .

a shining there
as brief
as rare.

Regret . . .
a pain
I chose to bear . . .

unleash
the torrent
of your hair . ....

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New Year Poetry

Auld Lange Syne
by Robert Burns
translation by Michael R. Burch 

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And days for which we pine?

For times we shared, my darling,
Days passed,...

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Last Night 
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
translation by Michael R. Burch

Last night, your memory stole into my heart
as spring sweeps uninvited through barren gardens
as morning breezes revive dormant deserts
as a patient suddenly feels better for no...

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Act 2. A dark, empty stage.

Marat
(standing up)

It's all a blur. It’s all a little dizzy. 
I just have dreamed a scary dream as if 
two vagabond philosophers robbed me
and killed. I must admit it's a...

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His eyes are dark, but, there's still a spark. 
There are canyons in his face.
His lungs are gone and it won't be long,
'Till his heart can't keep the pace.
He's lived three lives, had his share...

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A boy and board in Brooklyn
bedeviled by the breath of baroque battles
bemused with a belligerent brain beauty
and befriended by battlefield bravado, 
the chessmen championed his ego
wickedly warring to a visionary's voodoo,
those soldiers of black and...

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I

'Fine boy looking ugly',
Dread lock,crazy jean,vassace palm,
Gucci wrist-watch,Iphone 7s,painted roof,
Eight damsels,twelve olosho and three extra
phones.
Frosh!

12-5am; his internet vigil.
Hunting wealth in wealthy forests.
He doesn't give a shit,if the culprit is his
niece,
Or rather blood bond of any...

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Time moves quickly, catching me unaware.  It seems just yesterday I was a child growing up.  Yet in a way, it seems like eons ago. I wonder where all the years went. ...

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Genesis 4:12 (KJV) “When thou tillest the ground, it shall not henceforth yield unto thee her strength; a fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the earth.”

Yesterday spreads its wings…
Across the timeless expanse of...

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"If one has no planned destination - One can never be lost"  ~~The Poet~~

It was in the early winter when the frost had come before the snow.
That’s the time that we would see him,...

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Twilight, the frolicking hour of the nocturnal animals.
A curtain of gray melancholy slowly shuts out the sun.
There are two gentle remembering streaks across the sky,
Then all is dark.  The master artist knew what He...

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Famous poets dedication series, Part One

I.

O' Man Of Perishable Earth

O' priest of golden sun
where hides thy black heart
Pray each day, dark deeds undone
in light, great wisdom impart

O' master of ink and pen
where...

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Quenching my thirst
from the river that would flood
I walked inside the green lush
that was still untouched

loner as i was,vagabond they named
devoured whatever i could,my everyday game
marooned and castaway
stealing and scrapping kept the hunger at bay

I...

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***********
The Epic Vow, The Long Journey, And Destination Found

		  Her vow was to remain alive ...
stoke furiously the aching fires
not weep tears that splattered ancient grounds
no longer a vassal of state, nor apathy chained
walk...

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Continued from Part 1
Ah Consuela! I’m watching the vertigo veiling her green Spanish eyes,
while the drumbeat pounds, droning, the rhythm sounds, moaning,
                 of jungles Jamaican entwined
in the valleys concealing the vineyards revealing
                 the vaults in...

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Health of a nation
See the old and young station
Your indication

Breeze moves the tree leaves
But turned to gusts the tree heaves
The wise man perceives

Things are a blessing
Until fury oppressing
Stops your regressing

Pebble, rock, boulder
The size chip on...

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LIBERATION
I am still in chains
Slavery, colonialize and apartheid 
Are words you do not want to associate yourself with..
I know you have been emotionally stimulated that you are free
Just illusions, you are still in handcuffs, shackles...

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It’s a highway nightmare, or it should be,
but no one’s afraid (too much)
and the road just thunders and hummmms
on and on and on and on
under that greedy summer sun.

All of their guns are cocked and...

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Le Balcon (The Balcony)
Charles Baudelaire
trans. Michael R. Burch

Paramour of memory, ultimate mistress,
source of all pleasure, my only desire;
how can I forget your ecstatic caresses,
the warmth of your breasts by the roaring fire,
paramour of memory, ultimate...

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Which late afternoon/ early evening
today adventuristic, edenic, and idyllic
April 13th, 2021
pitch perfect weather
serves as temporary tonic
to balm away blues.

Like a tumbleweed
aimlessly blowing in the wind
across infinitely wobegon open wide
prairie home companion land
(which wasteland famously
epitomized by...

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TELLING  YOU…
THE UNTOLD TALE
All I can infer from my reminiscence…
I was a kid,
Wearing cloak of innocence,
With twinkling eyes looking straight…
Away from sun,
With my mother ,in her love’s shade.
      ...

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