Long Weaver Poems

Break the chains that are putting me in captivity...they're breaking me, for its reducing me to pity

In my heart, I felt your love
In my heart, I broke free your light
In your heart, I see flawless...

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Impossible mission to sleep on opposite side of marital bed...

Oddly enough even 
when frolicking in the autumn mist
with seasoned super tramping 
cheaply tricked out goo goo dolls
some resembling Indigo Girls,
one foo fighting beastie boy
unable to...

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The old man stood;elbows resting on the old stone wall
Wistfully he gazed over the snow laden field,
Watching the sheep nibble on bales of hay,
He thought back remembering his working day.

In his leather like work hardened...

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Lay your head down to rest on the desk of sooth stones and mild rock formations and I will caress your eyelids to veil your eyes towards sweet slumber, just pause

It will be just like...

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“Nuns Fret Not at Their Convent's Narrow Room”
by William Wordsworth

Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room;
And hermits are contented with their cells;
And students with their pensive citadels;
Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his...

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My Love, my Hope, my Goddess there can be no words formed by mortal lips sufficient to proclaim the glory which lived in me the season your love bloomed so completely within my life. My...

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(The memories are simple, living the feeling significant)

After conquering Beamsley Beacon due Southwest,
Rombald’s moor stood, while for centuries
within the valley the minute dwellings
of grey stone, brick and muck.
Main waterway, depending on era
town or sailor beck,...

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The little stall stands behind the black dilapidated wall whose bricks have been showing years of stained motion welled up inside the folly of man. The destiny of the wall speaks to the nature of...

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“The Penelope Squad”



A line of bluebirds 
tittering on a line
swaying on the winds
like comedian pageboys 
having a good time
poop in the peg bucket
words wooden and sharp
fly off with frosty notes
dirt and sherry stains
imprinted on 
Penelope’s...

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Robin Wall Kimmerer,
in Braiding Sweetgrass,
describes the first three woven rows
in process of making an ash basket.

The first Yang row of ecological root structure
is most impossibly conflicted
between extreme tensions up and down.
Weaving Yang-dominant is more of...

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Listen to the whispering's of the unhushed winds gently echoing,
Ever so softly swaying, as through a tender exhaled breath of warmth,
Delicately reawakening mother earth from winters hibernating sleep,
Broken, shattered is the frozen icy spell of...

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IT SEEMS TO ME THAT THE PRIME OF MY PARENY’S LIFE WAS ALMOST 
                     ...

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Sappho Translations by VI Michael R. Burch

Sappho, fragment 121
translation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As a friend you're great,
but you need a much younger bedmate.

2.
Although you're very dear to me,
please don't be silly!
You need a much younger...

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ERINNA

Erinna is widely regarded, at least by those who have read her, as second only to Sappho among the ancient Greek female poets. Little is known about her life; Erinna has been called a contemporary...

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Sappho Translations XV by Michael R. Burch

Gaia, rainbow-crowned, garbs herself in myriad hues. (168c)

We ran like fawns from the symposium: me, Cleis and reckless Gongyla. (168d)

Destiny is from the Muses, / and thus I was...

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The word makes sense to those who see sense 
senseless to those who senseless so see it
so in the beginning there was the word and with the word was God and God was the word
With...

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How is one to passage through shall misfortune nay take root?
Is beyond my knowledge for never once within had I sat foot
It is the will of the Goddess Word, to be cursed and to be...

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"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."~ Rumi

Dear Diary,

I’m a hopeless romantic, 
a sentimental sonnet
  scribbled...

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Widsith was a traveling minstrel who "sang for his supper" but may have been prone to exaggeration...

Widsith, the Far-Traveler, Part I of III
anonymous Old English/Anglo-Saxon poem, circa 680-950 AD
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Widsith the...

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Daughters of Medusa


                   
Grey hair, ginger hair, dark hair......
All simmering in an inverted jar,
Cooked and fried
Headshrinkers doing...

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Your hands n’ your caress traced intimately across a mortal’s flesh a thousand years ago, for 
she is a stranger in the dark of my distant karmic past,  though I know her serenading 
immortal...

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Dear eloquent weaver 
of woes and throes,
When the last 
 pewter petal of weary winter
falls as piercing prose,
placing star-kissed tulips
  between our 
poignant poems,
rewritten with 
  effervescent emotions,
remember,
   not every periwinkle...

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Change isn’t my favorite friend
But, it will help me out in the end
Strange how time flies over here
And still, I am alive without a fear

I desire change in my life nowadays
I am on fire and...

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Aidan The Knight Of The Word

Several weeks has pass and gone
But all I can see is Ei-rian in my mind
Life in my world is harder to breathe on
Had since her diminished light no longer shine

The...

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~~Dreamer The Wood Nymph~~
Dreamer the wood nymph, with a jealous heart looked on
She wanted to trap Zeus the God and keep him for her own
Immortal life her children would receive if a God she mated
Although...

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