Wraithlike Poems - Poems about Wraithlike

...In the tenebrous, xenial realm of the lake, where human cadavers oscillate, suspended by verdigris chains, a lamia of unholy provenance, orchestrates a gambits cavalcade. Each mortal she ensnares,......

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...Baseless incriminations heaped upon head of missus... courtesy evil ferocious wraithlike grimace Acrimonious scurrilous words flew out the mouth of vicious nasty shortish brute leaving yours t......

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... When a heart breaks, there is no indication, Some sign, heralding the pause, Between hope and hopeless, between Music and total grief, between Poetry and prose, between Light and loss, betw......

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... Bright-coloured butterflies flutter in the morning sky, Their filmy fragile wings throbbing in dawn's tranquility, Like little heartbeats dancing in tandem with the tawny sun... They flit......

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...THIS WORLD OF DEW This world? Moonlit dew flicked from a crane's bill. —Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Seventy-one? How long can a dewdrop last? ......

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...Juvenilia: Early Poems by Michael R. Burch In the Whispering Night by Michael R. Burch In the whispering night, when the stars bend low till the hills ignite to a shining flame, when a showe......

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...Regret by Michael R. Burch Regret, a bitter ache to bear . . . once starlight languished in your hair . . . a shining there as brief as rare. Regret . . . a pain I chose to bear ......

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...Pandora's BoX Whom to blame? What woman now walks, the lethal ancestress Of the original ancestress, that one named Pandora, that one with the gleaming eyes that said: "I want; I need, t......

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...What Good Are Our Tears? by Michael R. Burch What good are our tears? They will not spare the dying their anguish. What good is our concern to a child sick of living, waiting to perish? Wha......

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...Dedicated to Robert Lindley. Warning this tale is dark. THE DOVE A bloody stain upon the sheets, how cruel! Soulless weight of the wretched beast who’d rule. With his bare paws and dow......

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...Come Down by Michael R. Burch for Harold Bloom Come down, O, come down from your high mountain tower. How coldly the wind blows, how late this chill hour ... and I cannot wait for a met......

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...Love has a Southern flavor: honeydew, ripe cantaloupe, the honeysuckle’s spout we tilt to basking faces to breathe out the ordinary, and inhale perfume ... Love’s Dixieland-rambunctious: tangle......

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...Common Ground They would emerge sandy grisly looking beings mysteriously become a presence, a part of a momentary event Following the scent of happiness, creeping past the invisible sentrie......

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...I heard the dreadful Dryad's scream As axe bit into woody flesh The sap oozed out as scented cream My veins stood out in rictal mesh My wits all scrambled left me quick My hands and face were ......

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...Stand I here upon the Precipice of Time between madness and derangement- In a grief so profound ambiance of rage, with darkening clouds abound marring my every breath Declaration to your joy unsound......

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