Long Whistled Poems

Poems about Poems (II)

Kin
by Michael R. Burch

for Richard Moore

1.
Shrill gulls,
how like my thoughts
you, struggling, rise
to distant bliss?
the weightless blue of skies
that are not blue
in any atmosphere,
but closest here...

2.
You seek an air
so clear,
so rarified
the effort leaves...

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State of the Art (III)

These are my "ars poetica" poems: the ones about the art and craft of writing poetry in a modern world that doesn't always recognize the artists or their work. 



Come Down
by...

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Note to Readers of Previous Versions:
There are so many new vignettes scattered throughout the poem that I hope you will reread the whole thing! There are new GEMS, improvements to previous verses and improved footnotes...

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It was the weekend, and I was sleeping late that day,
Alone with the morning, while savoring marvels of May.

As I drowsed luxuriantly, at the outskirts of dreams,
I heard a strange sound, while soaking in gay...

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On the night before Christmas, alone in my house, 
Sorrow gnawed at my soul, like a ravenous mouse.
Entombed in my blankets, I struggled to sleep,
Ready to snap if I counted more sheep.

I rose at the...

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This is based on a completely true event - and every time someone mentions either of these 2 towns, I get hives - 

           ...

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While I was walking through a meadow, of blooms and sunshine,
I stopped to spread my blanket, for a gay picnic at lunchtime.

It was very pleasant, and I had brought many good things to eat.
Afterwards I...

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[Just a little note to help maintain the peace on Soup.          
To cause no animosity among our friendly group
I myself am partial to some tasty asian...

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World famous player of the five fingered flute,
   Wasn't quite so happy as he used to be.
   Being alone with just his flute,
   Nice clothes,
   And lounging...

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"transference"


transference 
in a narcissistic world
propaganda for the 
unsuspecting
validation 
for the damaged

writers 
soldiers 
victims 
survivors
war fought daily
in shallow trenches

buckling at the knees
stand up 
brave comedians 
salute compatriots and cowards 
caught in their camouflaged net
all the crumbling...

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As time passed on by, they settled and married
producing a fine brood of children
yet growing more and more unsettled
until one day they headed off again
this time going to the far north
where the lands were bound...

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He/I/they/all/we/none knowing sit/sats he/she thoughts he/she witnessed he/she held a behold as to what the hell a corporeal ring of things once unbeknowinest to him/her was about,: thought provoking, yet undeterminate in any reason with...

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Heavy pressures of fame were getting to me, since I was world famous,
And desperately needed a getaway, as a rainbow sometimes detains us.

I was a successful performer, and ardent press went wherever I went,
Like exotic...

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A legend of Ireland that lives long and hard through this very day
Is of Jack the widow’s son who took risks that truly did more than pay.
He and his frightened, broke mother were in dire...

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The woman was older, had black hair, angry brown eyes, and wore a perpetual frown on her face. Chel had heard the nurse on the floor refer to her as Nan.  They had had...

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Blood spilling in the east running all the way to the west
Forming rivers of doubt in the north and South
An army of men converge along the river bank
With long guns strapped to their sides
And big...

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Through a wooded thick in a forest of New England,
There exists a secret circus called the Craft of Ringland.

Meandering through a meadow one night before the forest's mouth,
I heard a melody humming in the wind...

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I love spending nights on the lake.
Once the oven-like sun disappears,
things get suddenly quiet, except for
the occasional hoot of an owl, crickets, frogs
and the soft lapping of the lake on the boat.
When the moon rises...

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" Damn you, let go my gun! "
The morning hasn't even yawned yet
and a terrible tussle is in my sight,
Drouillard is wrestling his rifle from the hands of this Indian thief
and the Field brothers are...

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It was like a whisper- 
My wife delivered the sad news- 
"Your grandfather was dead."- 
And so he was- 
Her eyes was awfully sad- 
Touched me gently on my back- 
He was old- 
The time...

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Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Way Down South           
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: June/2014


Growing up
way 
down south 
in
Florida -

was like
a 
fiesta -

We would
go to
the
beach,

swim, run,
and 
play

in 
the white 
sand -

and
soon as 
we
get home,

It was 
time 
to raid 

the 
sugarcane 
farm -

Life
was sweet,

in
the
Sunshine
State -

Each day
was 
better than
the
day before...

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One day as our little Dragon passed by a house, he heard someone in distress.
He shouldn’t have left his window open, for he’s now in store, for a big mess.
Dragon ran quickly up to the...

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a kid in love     in deep adoration-
oh   the worship    the longing affection
I breathed his name

writing it in my notebook   a thousand times
david  ...

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In the elm outside my window, roosts a mysterious bird.
I listened as he squawked and fluttered. This is what I heard,
"If God had given you wings, would you fly away with me?"
To have wings and...

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'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there

The children...

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