Long Wearied Poems

1.

                                  ...

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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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Renee Vivien Translations


Song
by Renée Vivien
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When the moon weeps,
illuminating flowers on the graves of the faithful,
my memories creep
back to you, wrapped in flightless wings.

It's getting late; soon we will sleep
(your eyes...

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'We have a future king to make,'
Said the deep, resounding voice.
'But it is not a proper fit for everyone.
For a king must know first how to obey than to command,
And to abide rather than reign.'

'And...

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And I begin my own steep climb into 
The Chalkland Downs                        ...

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What if the incessant torture didn’t happen
so many dark times, but it’s unimaginable
for you to comprehend isn’t it?

No one knows, the tragedies that left me
so crippled, you can’t fathom, the depth of
the sins they committed...

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kaisers, kings, emperors fight for territory
  dispensable bodies left in the ground on foreign soil, unreturned
  militarisation of memory and folly
  an Irish nation half-wrenched from a bloodied and wearied empire
 ...

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Placed 9th in :
No. 1238 New Poems Only
Sponsored by Brian Strand   

 Since her birth on the mount               ...

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He reminded me of a movie about aliens from outer space.                        ...

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From the warm shores of the Atlantic                            ...

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If Thou take not our hands,
and feet,
our bodies
hosting ghostly minds,
our organic inside lives
flowing out emphatic love

We will continue to fail,
to fear,
to feel tired,
retired,
weary,
untreaded,
worn.

When I try to sing this earnest prayer
with only my heady voice
from the...

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Eckhart Tolle says, "Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness."

...

To this, I say, bring it on
Throw everything at me, the night of your own right,
And as sure...

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An Awakening, From Darkness Into The Light

As I walked the flame danced in my mouth
I wearied yet the earnest spirit flew.
I a poor lad born and raised in the South,
Had nurtured the anger until immense...

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Shootout, And That Wild Young Cowboy From Laramie

Her heart said, I want a cowboy from Laramie
Six-gun shooting hombre to take sweet care of me
Tender lover succumbing to my feminist wiles
Begging for more of my sexy...

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S   Porcupines of daylight shoot quills of crawling tint
 P      ruffled flashes pull me in swamps of anxieties
 L       I hide my...

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I bow my head Your Majesty, Thou reign on heaven and earth
I wonder whence I look around to see Thy marvelous craftsmanship.
I exalt Thee considering how great Thou art and how beautifully for my mirth
Made...

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Beneath the churning skies and wrathful sea, 
A lone man wails into swirling agony.
Each crashing wave, a relentless assault,
Mirroring the chaos of his inner tumult.

Beneath tempestuous heavens, alone he fights,
His vessel, both refuge and dungeon,...

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Hope
                    —An old man and children—

Do you know why I sit here pondering?

I am not sorry...

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This is my humble tribute to our dear Soup member Andrea Dietrich, using some of her poem titles. This is actually inspired by a contest named "Title Wave", that was sponsored by our Soup member...

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My faithful quill recumbent
Motionless
Stark against the virgin parchment posed upon my desk
The peeping moon breaks through grimy windows
Mocking me as the mantel clock chimes the cheerless Midnight
Another day laid to waste
The poet’s canvas unblemished
Harmonizing with...

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Foggy Nights, A Letter To A Friend
By Curtis Johnson

I have driven on  snowy and icy roads in Wisconsin and Illinois.  In the summer’s heat of the Sacramento Region, I have driven in cars,...

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The night was black and dreary
cold breath hung in the air
trapped in an unfamiliar place
entirely unaware

that destiny would enter in
to change our well-laid plans
the rein of safety, tightly held    
would be wrest...

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The night was black and dreary
cold breath hung in the air
trapped in an unfamiliar place
entirely unaware

that destiny would enter in
to change our well-laid plans
the rein of safety, tightly held    
would be wrest...

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Through raven’s eye, viewed I my fate, blood scribed upon the ground,
whilst shadows of the darkwood’s dead, stood solemnly around.
Accusing faces staring down, from purgatory’s stay,
those wraith dead eyes, that froze the soul, will haunt...

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So once again, with grim countenance, the ship sailed on with all bemoaning their woes
Till calm seas prevailed, with balmy sun, sweet zephyr song, they came to Helios' shores.
Helios, calm god of the day, smiled...

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