Beach Myth Poems

I once wrote of lovely mermaid's song,
many years ago, yet still I long
to hear her haunting voice once again,
music of waves never reaching end.

Days I...

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my chair was in the path of totality
a thin ribbon about seventy miles wide
moving West to East
it does this because of at the equator
Moon's shadow...

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As long shadows flew out before me
Like raven swings, fluttering
Stiff, gentle winds carry 
Winters chill not far behind

Sun-lit cars are all in sharp relief 
Setting...

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I. a dark awakening

Shuddering awake feeling the freezing cold fingers still around my throat, struggling to catch my breath struggling to focus.

Finding my air. Shaking...

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Black Hotel
Immortal fear, 
blind rage appears on black rock… 

How does it rise along on a lonely beach?
…an outcrop of the night!

A black hotel looms...

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Black Sun’s crypt sands,
feeling infernal crimson winds 
ancient galleon sail
Across a brutal bloody land.
Setting on Jagged black
Shores casting far into golden 
Halo’s, burning the horizon...

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Shadows stretch out across this lost highway. 
Cool winds dance dying leaves as the sunsets cast.

At the edge of sky, hues of gold and Crimson...

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Amber moon over endless seas
warm breezes caressing
Green sweet grass nodding into the brisk air
gulls nest, fires dot the beach
figures rushing hand in hand
Along the reach

the...

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A chambered shell 
with each a secret Lie. 
Memory dwells spiraling 
down deep and only the Infinity 
knows what is kept in each. 
A secret...

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Looking back, one thing comes clean-glass clear
you were always there for me subduing every fear.

I tried to do my duty, be a husband strong and...

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The bog cotton hisses in concert with the curlews bubbling wail.
The salt air stirs the marram grass, the sand sedge and sea kale.
Alone she walks...

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The Song of Amergin: Modern English Translations

The Song of Amergin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am the sea breeze
I am the ocean wave
I am the...

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Myth, after Dylan Thomas
by Michael R. Burch

Here the recalcitrant wind
sighs with grievance and remorse
over fields of wayward gorse
and thistle-throttled lanes.

And she is the myth of...

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Barefoot she walked along the sandy shore,
her golden hair soft fluttering in the breeze.
Like gossamer the flimsy dress she wore,
her soul at peace with joy...

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It's blisteringly faithfully rot,

it's intangible as it's deserving of all,

so many signs,
and signatures to boot...


The wreathe in the sky,

the tree rotation eye,

end of all eagerness,

dredge...

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