Long Wither Poems

There's consequences in all we say and do 
Go forward and walk your walk and I'll go ahead and talk my talk 
Quite distraught due to the fact that you're too good to be true
I...

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Rejection Slips 2

The Shape of Mourning
by Michael R. Burch
 
The shape of mourning
is an oiled creel
shining with unuse,
 
the bolt of cold steel
on a locker
shielding memory,

the monthly penance
of flowers,
the annual wake,
 
the face in the...

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“The True Mother”

What part of a heart
in another could one trust
when betrayal comes
like a silver bullet, words and deeds
sharp piercing to burrow 
bleed out Life’s dreams 
rust crumbles to dust

Virulent apathy spreads 
Betrayal’s destruction 
hand...

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Where Does the Butterfly Go?
by Michael R. Burch

for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba

Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails,
when thunder howls,
when hailstones scream,
when winter scowls,
when nights compound dark frosts with snow ...
Where...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems X

These are early poems written in my teens and twenties.

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...

and show me
once...

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The Moon as a Metaphor for Your Mouth
by Michael R. Burch

When I was closest to love, it did not seem
real at all, but a thing of such tenuous sweetness
it might dissolve in my mouth
like a...

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Sonnet LXXXI-LXXXIX

Day, and Night
by Michael R. Burch

The moon exposes pockmarked scars of craters;
her visage, veiled by willows, palely looms.
And we who rise each day to grind a living,
dream each scented night of such perfumes
as drew...

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LOVE POEMS V

These are love poems by Michael R. Burch, about life, the dream of love, virtue, a first kiss, a first crush, the birth of a first relationship, the joy of a first love...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems VII

These are early poems I wrote as a boy and as a teenager.

The Leveler
by Michael R. Burch

The nature of Nature
is bitter survival
from Winter’s bleak fury
till Spring’s brief revival.

The weak implore Fate;
bold men...

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There was a glimpse of time unknown to man
The things none may ever describe
All wrapped within this wall of thoughts
For if a moment of my thoughts are clear
They are not my thoughts at all
Never again...

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LOVE POEMS II

These are love poems by Michael R. Burch: original poems and translations about passion, desire, lust, sex, dating and marriage. On an amusing note, my steamy Baudelaire translations have become popular with the...

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as the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE
– silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) –
with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens...

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Blossoming 
Effulgent sun proffers love 
Clambering… 
My brain makes me wonder if you remember the times shared
Back to the blessed times, I recall that you would listened, be worried about me, and, at the time,...

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Increase In Head Size

impossible mission to encapsulate notion 
flitting hither and yon, to and fro
within cranium attached to mine body,
whereby irrefutable proof prevails
predicated when yours truly
scrutinizes other people visibly aware,
I a modest married male 
blessed,...

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Note:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Percy_Bysshe_Shelley
Percy Bysshe Shelley,  Born 4 August 1792
Horsham, Sussex, England[1]
Died , 8 July 1822 (aged 29)
Gulf of La Spezia, Kingdom of Sardinia (now Italy)
Occupation	Poet, dramatist, essayist, novelist
Alma mater	University College, Oxford (no degree)
Literary movement	Romanticism
Spouse	Harriet Westbrook
(m. 1811;...

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I saw how martyrs longed for love, and so began the play of my flitting heart
A strange girl had I become, with airs of fickle dream,
My heart an embodiment of wonder to all that dared...

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Greetings to each of you my dearly beloved brothers and sisters. Please read these seventeen blessings rendered for you in God's grace:

I. May God’s love for the new year grant you joy and inspiration overcoming...

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These Limericks were written by many different PS poets who are all remaining anonymous.  If you would like to add one of your own and remain anonymous send it to my soup mail. Enjoy!

Roses...

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What if…

If fear did not guard and watch over me?
My seeds of shame and doubt
Would timidly venture out
And finally sprout,
But as they reached the light,
Like a vampire, would wither and die
Without the protection of night.
Or:...

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Each and every day, mankind search to find out that which exist and that which is to happen., thus the destiny of mankind. it is reality as a human beings to know and understand the...

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My baby don't cry
My baby don’t cry
Baby, I feel you weeping in grief at home
Told you I can be outside and freely roam 

My baby don’t cry
My baby don’t cry
Even if life goes awry
Don’t you...

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As dawn unfolds today beyond my fractured windowpane,
a breeze beguiles the ashen drapes. Like snakes they slip aside,
revealing wanton worlds that race and run aground, insane,
immersed in scenes obscene that savants strive to mask and...

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Stimulating ideas pop into your head
You need a pen…you need a piece of lined paper and you gave it your best shot to pass the difficult test
It looks like you’re outtah luck…you received an F...

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I will not waste away in the streets of such unbearable nightmares where I silently weep
I will survive the rainstorm of lament and listen to the mesmerizing murmurs of the deep
I am alive in the...

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rise and shine deflect common sense while white dilapidated guts spawn oppossing beats an treats that are not so daring as uncommon feats and relativity clings to gravity and in spite of everything nothingness has...

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