(“Pandora’s Box”, 2014, original pen and ink and oil)
Simple silent peace
Is no longer good enough
Busy minds crave more
(8/19/26)
("Lonesome Day Blues", 2025, original encaustic)
My life is in a rut
Without direction or purpose
All I want to do is eat and drink
Escape into books and travel
All around I see society stretched
To the breaking point of collapse
The good persecuted for trying
The bad rewarded for lying
I don’t know what to do
Or where to turn to find a way through
So I’ll just eat and drink
And escape back into my novel…
(5/31/26)
I’m still young,
yet I keep searching for my childhood.
Funny, isn’t it?
I sit with Papa,
and listen to Grandpa’s stories—
their world felt freer than mine.
Why was I born
in this new generation?
We are Gen Z,
lost in screens,
in fake love,
in quiet rooms.
I want to run outside,
to feel the sun, the dust—
but I’m stuck
inside four walls.
Still, somewhere inside,
I want to run barefoot...
But I don’t know what I’m missing—
but it hurts like it was mine once.
There's a word I often hear is it an alibi,
it's that four letter word of busy
So what does busy mean, an excuse to procrastinate
or is it that your brain is in a tizzy
One could merely state,
I chose to put lesser issues aside
Some important issues arose,
my attention was required
So does busy apply when,
you are busy watching tee vee
Does busy apply when you have a mobile phone
always in the hand, diversion required instantly
Does busy apply when the mobile phone does ring
and it's a voice you don't want to hear
Does busy apply when you're spending time at home
busily drinking lots of beer
Does busy apply when
you are spending time asleep
Does busy apply apply when you are following
the ways of all the other sheep
The way of modern life especially in the cities
everyone seemingly in such a frantic busy rush
I recall my boyhood days many years ago
it's much more relaxing living in the bush
Gone are the great cats and bears
Gone are the terrifying snakes and boars
Gone are the ravaging marauding hoards
And in their place spiteful neighbors
Stir up their troubles
In their desire to be right and righteous
Blissful in their ignorance
That they are none other
Than the other they despise.
(3/2/26)
Everyone’s complaining
‘Bout how it’s always raining
And we’re all getting soaked to the skin
Everybody’s whining
How there’s no silver lining
Optimism’s growing kind of thin
Everyone is moaning
You hear the constant groaning
Darn it! Can’t you see how it’s unfair?
We’ve all caught the fever
Become a true believer
Then exhale it out into the air…
Got to be a better way…
Everyone is shaking
With childish bellyaching
Looking for somewhere to place the blame
Everybody’s grumbling
Fumbling and stumbling
No one knows the rules to the game
Everyone’s protesting
But no one is suggesting
Any way to fix all that is wrong
Anybody can see
Equally we’re guilty
Of going with the flow to get along…
Got to be a better way…
Look at this irony. Stroke of fate
So cruel that I can’t breathe so straight!
Curfew’s cleansed city’s air,
Pollution fairly fair,
Yet, my mask blockades both fresh-air gates!
Locked in house, halfway hung,
I can’t hail city’s lungs,
COVID’s hijacked all life, love or hate.
_______________________________________
Happenings |23.05.2021|
Poet’s note: On account of restricted movements, part curfew, curtailed traffic has improved the quality of city’s air— a blessing in disguise. Yet alas the citizens can’t enjoy this stroke of luck. What an irony!
Sirens wail
another day in paradise
rush hour
Charon 2001
by Michael R. Burch
I, too, have stood—paralyzed at the helm
watching onrushing, inevitable disaster.
I too have felt sweat (or ecstatic tears) plaster
damp hair to my eyes, as a slug’s dense film
becomes mucous-insulate. Always, thereafter
living in darkness, bright things overwhelm.
Originally published by The Neovictorian/Cochlea
The City Is a Garment
by Michael R. Burch
A rhinestone skein, a jeweled brocade of light,—
the city is a garment stretched so thin
her festive colors bleed into the night,
and everywhere bright seams, unraveling,
cascade their brilliant contents out like coins
on motorways and esplanades; bead cars
come tumbling down long highways; at her groin
a railtrack like a zipper flashes sparks;
her hills are haired with brush like cashmere wool
and from their cleavage winking lights enlarge
and travel, slender fingers ... softly pull
themselves into the semblance of a barge.
When night becomes too chill, she softly dons
great overcoats of warmest-colored dawn.
Originally published by The Lyric
Anti-passion normalization
Soul-braking pressurization
Heartless determination
Bruteforced mortivation
Modern life style is more cruel,
It makes people to burn others to make fuel.
Too much things you have to consume,
Doesn't matter how you will suffer from that outcome.
Modern life style makes someone cries,
Selfishness could simply break our family ties.
Everyone of us are suffering from mental illness,
No one knows how they will escape from those sickness.
New brands are making us crazy,
To get those we always kept us busy.
New technologies are getting more priority,
That's why war is obligatory amongst minority and superiority,
They are forcing us to be modern slaves,
They don't care how much we have our personal savings.
We are nothing but guinea pigs,
It seems we were born for crisis.
Whatever, it's time for us,
Should try not to be ridiculous.
Modern life is stressful they say
Nothings right or wrong, everything gray
So before you start your day
Get on your knees before God and pray
And as you drive to your daily task
Keep talking to God and wisdom ask
And keep talking to Him from dawn to dusk
Tell Him everything dont be brasque
Rejoice evermore the bible says
Pray pray without ceasing always
give thanks in everything all your days
To God be glory honor and praise
Amen
Youtube,
Instant gratification generation,
Living your life on a spiders web,
Imperiled, endangered conspiracy theories straight to your head,
Web Cam On,
Snoopers watching you like internet ****,
And you're none the wiser,
Or maybe you are?
Is that why you push yourself so far?
Fad diets,
When people abroad are hungry and starving,
You sit at home with your little shake,
Dreaming of the turkey you could be carving
Juice plus, Fruit Crush, Herbalife you're completely barking.
Facebook,
Living it large living a lie,
Larging it up for drama and likes,
Following celebrities stalking your exes,
When will it stop?
Real life,
There is a wide world outside,
Waiting for you to go out and explore,
Stories waiting just to be told,
Do it now before the moment is gone before you're to old.
Modern life
When goodness grows at snails pace,
When kindness in the life suffers,
And shrewdness keeps winning race,
And cheating and ditch buffers,
When best friends misunderstand,
When a dear one breaks your heart,
And foes closer to heart stand,
And tries to ignore your scar,
Joyous moments come so slow,
Be sure humans are at end,
Miseries in life fast grow,
What progress do you pretend ?
Iambic heptameter ( quatorzain)
Written- August 21st, 2014
Poet- Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For contest- Structured verse- iambic form
By Giorgio A. V.
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