Advice to Young Poets
Advice to Young Poets
by Nicanor Parra Sandoval
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Youngsters,
write however you will
in your preferred style.
Too much blood flowed under the bridge
for me to believe
there’s just one acceptable path.
In poetry everything’s permitted.
Byron
was not a shy one,
as peacocks run.
—Michael R. Burch
When I visited Lord Byron's residence at Newstead Abbey, there were peacocks running around the grounds, which I thought appropriate.
A Surfeit of Light
There was always a surfeit of light in your presence.
You stood distinctly apart, not of the humdrum world—
a chariot of gold in a procession of plywood.
We were all pioneers of the modern expedient race,
raising the ante: Home Depot to Lowe’s.
Yours was an antique grace—Thrace’s or Mesopotamia’s.
We were never quite sure of your silver allure,
of your trillium-and-platinum diadem,
of your utter lack of flatware-like utility.
You told us that night—your wound would not scar.
The black moment passed, then you were no more.
The darker the sky, how much brighter the Star!
The day of your funeral, I ripped out the crown mold.
You were this fool’s gold.
Keywords/Tags: death, death of a friend, funeral, eulogy, heartbreak, light, star, presence, world
Mayflies
by Michael R. Burch
These standing stones have stood the test of time
but who are you
and what are you
and why?
As brief as mist, as transient, as pale...
Inconsequential mayfly!
Perhaps the thought of love inspired hope?
Do midges love? Do stars bend down to see?
Do gods commend the kindnesses of ants
to aphids? Does one eel impress the sea?
Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do the stars
regret the glowworm’s stellar mimicry
the day it dies? Does not the world grind on
as if it’s no great matter, not to be?
Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose.
And yet somehow you’re everything to me.
u-turn: another way to look at religion
by Michael R. Burch
... u were borne orphaned from Ecstasy
into this lower realm: just one of the inching worms
dreaming of Beatification; u
would love to make a u-turn back to Divinity, but
having misplaced ur chrysalis, u can only
chant magical phrases,
like Circe luring ulysses back into the pigsty ...
Keywords/Tags: poets, poetry, poems, write, writing, light, gold, grace, world, night, star
Less Heroic Couplets: Unsmiley Simile, or, Down Time
by Michael R. Burch
Quora is down!
I frown:
how long can the universe suffice
without its ad-vice?
Copyright ©
Michael Burch
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