Artificial Smile
by Michael R. Burch
I’m waiting for my artificial teeth
to stretch belief, to hollow out the cob
of zealous righteousness, to grasp life’s stub
between clenched molars, and yank out the grief.
Mine must be art-official—zenlike Art—
a disembodied, white-enameled grin
of Cheshire manufacture. Part by part,
the human smile becomes mock porcelain.
Till in the end, the smile alone remains:
titanium-based alloys undestroyed
with graves’ worm-eaten contents, all the pains
of bridgework unrecalled, and what annoyed
us most about the corpses rectified
to quaintest dust. The Smile winks, deified.
and then i was made whole
by michael r. burch
... and then i was made whole,
but not a thing entire,
glued to a perch
in a gilded church,
strung through with a silver wire ...
singing a little of this and of that,
warbling higher and higher:
a thing wholly dead
till I lifted my head
and spat at the Lord and his choir.
Published by The Neovictorian/Cochlea and Poetry Life & Times
I met her in the dark, her breath like stone,
A predator carved from some vast unknown.
Her gaze a weight, a grave of quiet fire,
Unchained from what the mortal soul could own.
There are no pacts where lions tread the dust,
Their truth is claw and silence, raw and just.
Yet still, I stand, a fool before the shrine,
My blood a whisper, offering ash and trust.
Each word she gives is fanged, with edges sharp,
Her laughter hums, a brutal, hollow harp.
The ache inside me folds beneath her grin,
As though her teeth could sever guilt and harp.
No common bond; no mortal tie can weave
This force of ruin clutching hearts to cleave.
Still, from her weight, I breathe an alien calm,
A portrait burned in charcoal, fierce to leave.
Her truth is art, the savage kind, unbound.
I wear its scars, a silent battleground.
No treaties hold, no hand can tame her core,
Yet in her chaos, I find something profound.
There are no pacts where men and lions meet,
Our truths collide, a thrum, a lethal beat.
In mirrored fangs, I howl my darkest self,
And let her teeth consume my soul, complete.
Your lips oh, your lips,
They are not merely lips,
They are poetry that forgot how to stay on paper,
A soft, sacred scripture that my heart recites.
When you speak, the world grows quiet to listen,
When you smile, even sorrow forgets how to stay.
And your white teeth,
Like pearls guarded behind the gates of Eden,
Like the first snow that heaven lets fall at dawn,
Orderly, luminous, pure
They do not just shine, they illuminate.
Your smile is not an expression,
It is a revelation.
Your lips carry your kindness,
Your teeth hold your joy,
And when both meet in laughter,
I swear, my soul finds its home.
For God took His time sculpting that smile,
He made it a medal of grace upon your face,
And every time you give it to me,
I win I win at life, at love, at everything.
Keep smiling, my love,
For your lips are my prayer,
And your white teeth, my light.
And with that light,
I will top up on every chat,
I will conquer every day,
Because your smile is my victory.
A tall fellow strolled on a beach abroad
Along a cream-like sandy shore unflawed,
He tripped on a small shell
And fell with a sharp yell,
Lying on the ground while all his teeth gnawed.
Theories of killers fall from blonde to grey rivers
A man with a face controlled by a robot
Rolls a kart with forgotten songs of Eagles and Hawks
I fought a cry seeing our friends goodbye
I heard a ringing I could not breathe
Somewhere there was the missing voice of make-believe
An acoustic drink ,a punch of a swing off a tree
The peeling worn out shade
Lifts the suade off a Saturday moon
Rebellious fires burn holiday seeds of pumpkins and carrots
I tried to be different everyone left but were never here
I tried to be cool but the string of limousines got tied up in a tree of lies
I tried to fall in love
But ended up a 3rd party fool
I met her eyes, a shroud, divine,
Her breath devoured the space of mine.
No weight of sin, no mortal chain,
A beauty born of blood and pain.
Her claws, like art, could carve my soul,
Yet in her gaze, I found me whole.
No mercy tames that ancient creed,
The lion's hunger, the crimson need.
Between us stretched the shadow's grin,
No pact exists with bone or skin.
And yet, I laughed, her smile arose,
A fleeting bloom where chaos grows.
But past that realm, where death transcends,
A truth persists: no hearts as friends.
It devoured me
Changed me
Made me anew
But because of this monster
Mine heart is askew
I left my baby teeth
Upon the church floor
My shoes at the doorway
Covered my open sores
Told my mind fairytales
Of faeries and witches’ spells
But my mind’s eye knew
I can’t hide this purpled bruise
I wear rotting chains
Forever on my wrists
Moving painstakingly slow
Towards the world’s abyss
Their eyes tell me shouts
Of how I could be
If I wasn’t held down
By the villain who sought me
But I’m a silly little child
Just a little pet
I shall believe the lies
That say I can’t,
Not yet
The cracks are painted over
Not gold or silver
But a rotting green clover
That begins to whither
The more dreams creep in
The more lies they believe
Now I’m burnt out
And I don’t know how to scream
I’m here, but not
I lie, but I believe
I’ll let myself die again
Let me be conceived
Love that smile of yours ~
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
The day has finally come.
You thought you were above the law.
Now time to do time.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
I went in for a simple fix,
or so the dentist swore~
next thing I knew, I had hardware
no store would sell at the Home Depot store.
Dentist drilled like he was mining gold,
he screwed like he was building shelves,
and when he said, “You’re doing great,”
I thought, Speak for yourselves.
Now I’ve got titanium treasures
rooted deep inside my gums~
I beep at airport scanners
and frighten toddlers with my hums.
But hey, these teeth don’t wobble,
they don’t complain or pout~
and if one ever loosens,
I’ll just unscrew the thing right out.
So here’s to dental implants~
the upgrade no one seeks.
I went in missing molars…
came out part-robot in two cheeks.
Bright and pearly white mine are not
but they are all there and all mine
and do their job to the best of
their ability even if they don’t
make a picture-perfect smile. People
occasionally still make comments,
although usually it’s the kids who
seem to feel the need to remind
an adult to brush, then laugh at having
turned the tables. Medical science is
not always compassionate, and has cost
me vast fortunes by preventing me from
pursuing a lucrative toothpaste ad career.
Damn that Doxycycline anyway!
seriously, anybody
strangers on the street
i'm opening the car window
and smiling at other drivers,
teeth and everything,
through the busy and bustling town centre
i am making the most of my connectivity
and improving the public realm.
the 1870s were years of disillusion.
but this is confidence.
the teeth are a summation of all that i
have achieved, no teeth epitomises
more splendidly the qualities the world admires;
i say goodbye to my charisma vacuum,
and laugh at a joke that doesn't exist.
the fire's out.
the hearth is stone cold.
even the wick was spent.
the ominous echo booming off
the walls was enough
to rattle the door with an unoiled hinge
winds whip like a raging winter storm
trees snap like toothpicks.
ice build up on knees
it's the gnashing of teeth
sawing through bone on flint.
a pathetic attempt to spark.
no bargaining.
no salvation.
nothing but the grind
when there's no more jaw to chew
crowns tumble onto the floor
only to reveal seeds.
biting into the fruit,
kicked out by the stone.
rolling back alone
all of the lies that you told?
it's time to pay the foul
a debt.
a regret. .
it's the gnashing of teeth
d i s c o n n e c t i n g.
decaying friendship.
the loneliness
scraps of jagged salt meals
you'll never eat
did I leave that stove on?
no, don't think about that
it's just grinding
with no oil.
gums begin to tear
as you realize
that you've been biting
your tongue
the whole time....
damn!
Bad Luck for the Vampire Teeth
It was such a gloomy Halloween day
The Vampire Teeth tinted with blood,
and delicate pinot noir (bottled not yesterday),
went flying over a field of western redbud.
From his side,
a drunk goose
struck him. The Vampire Teeth cried,
‘Watch where you fly, you goose!’
Then ten more geese smacked into him (frown, frown)
So so winded he couldn’t stay in the air,
and he fell quite fast down down down
into a big crack the length of a bear
in the road that boarded the field square.
No one heard his cries for help.
Then his voice box broke.
Then a limping construction worker Mr Kelp
who was too broke
filled in the crack (with some egg yolk)
with cement angrily demanded by the folk.
No more ancient Gaelic Festival of
Samhain for The Vampire Teeth.
All because of
those stupid geese, and that worker Heath.
Something to know about Steve
He was born lacking some teeth
But he is proud
Of his shiny smile
Compliments of golden fillings
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