Short Pitiable Poems

over a broken glass vase
  burst a little boy's heart
pitiable sobs, hiccupped cries
  punctuated by a flow of tears...

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Pain departed a sacred portion of human flash.
A devout detortion and flamboyant living dash.
Flagrant flaunt impregnate impish liege slash.
Slanderous sleave and pitiable pithecanthrope,
Pishogue sagacious mistranslated pish a girl rash....

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Of Tetley’s and V-2's
(or, “Why Not to Bomb the Brits”)
by Michael R. Burch

The English are very hospitable,
but tea-less, alas, they grow pitiable ...
or pitiless, rather,
and quite in a lather!
O bother, they're more than formidable....

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Sleep, Lord Poseidon,
Deep, everlasting sleep
While sailors watch with bated breath

Old planking creaks -
The pitiable, splintering sound -
Old planking creaks

Old sailor,
Splintery-kneed old sailor,
Keeps his watch

With ever a thought of life's futility,
Down deep,
Where dolphins stay

But Lord Poseidon never sleeps
And dolphins play.....
And play...

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two birds 
from a distant land
wandering in the wilderness
with their distorted wings,
a pitiable pain and hapless heart
... life had become a meaningless art
damages were irrecoverable
she was a blood splattered queen
and his had a fallen dream.
two perfect souls
living in imperfection...
till they met each other
love flooded their heart with eternity........

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An injured man
Was lying by the side
Of the road
Moaning and groaning
Stretching a pitiable hand
For a help
I cast a casual look
And like other passers by
Ignoring his painful cry
Walked passéd by
But all of a sudden
I heard something has broken
In my heart’s mansion
And through that crack
Something unknown 
Was pulling me back
Towards the cries
As if the power of infinity
Showing me 
The path of dignity
That was none but humanity...

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In the ethereal grace of twilight 
A shroud of serene solitude settles 
over the skies and the mountain range
like the pitiable pain of a pining heart.

Nature suddenly seems 
to have lost the flare of the sun
and the radiance of the moon
awaiting some spiritual manifestation.

A languid river snakes languorously 
through the forlorn forest
as if overcome by the soft
and healing autumnal evening.


~Contest: A Brian Strand Premiere Choice....

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Bluntly, someone said
they could never imagine
my being married.
This stung.
I laughed.
I am more
a comic
than
a romantic.
Pain is preferably felt
without witness;
better yet,
with punchlines.
Those precious people
who cry amongst us are more
genuine,
pitiable,
deserving of yet more
labors of love.
We mustn't blame ourselves
for this; we are
pathetic souls,
and I am
fine with it.
After all, my spouse
is already
my sense of humor....

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