Xiii Poems - Poems about Xiii

Why promote wrecking-ball malice Behind the wall of a palace? This callous man sick Acts like a big dick To cover up his small phallus...

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Sappho Translations XIII by Michael R. Burch In these translations the fragment numbers are mostly Lobel-Page. All translations are by Michael R. Burch and should be so credited if they are used in any way, shape or form. Andromeda may have abandoned you, but I, Aphrodite, Queen of Cyprus, still love you, Sappho, as the sun illuminates...

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"Busni ya maaly el basha ya baba ya ostaz." "Busat ya habibti, ya amoura ya ostaza." "Shokran awi ya habibi." I said with a red blushing face....

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. . . . . . . .S E L F I E S* . . . . . . ....

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To office when I rushed to ask old Khan, To tell me meaning if at all of all, And what I learnt from the old man was this: A story of countless unrequited, Unfulfilled longings, lurid flames of red, Wild carnal pleasures raging within walls Of the palace of ill repute, the curse Of collective...

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Oskar loved Alma's feminine charms painted himself entwined in her arms He entitled it 'Bride of the Wind'* Mahler/Kokoschka talents twinned. ...

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the sun sets maroon around eight o’clock it mixes elegantly with the electric streetlights in the parking lot. I take out my pen & add cranberry / orange juice to the list...

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11 o'clock at night. Everyone is In bed. Molly was in the adjoining Room with the seven and Desharah. Damian was awake and Planning. Dominant Damian was deeply devious in his domain. In bed with Dolly he put his hand on her fleshly hip and gently shook her calling her name, "Delilah, Delilah babe, wake...

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Beneath your feet, what lies there still, A thorn of love's lost tenderness, Or shadow longing for slumber's chill? Oh, my love, star of shining grace, Your light illuminates my way, A journey from death to life's embrace. In this misadventure of heart and love, Which life does not endure and tend? Our fractured feelings, spent and shoved. Soothe me, love, with your loving...

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Without being able to see his face, I most certainly could hear his low voice; He was beckoning me to come to him, this vampire was the farthest thing from grim; To look upon him you would never guess a killer lurked behind all the kindness; ‘Oh miss Inalem you look so hungry . I bet...

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Juvenilia: Early Poems XIII Davenport Tomorrow by Michael R. Burch Davenport tomorrow ... all the trees stand stark-naked in the sun. Now it is always summer and the bees buzz in cesspools, adapted to a new life. There are no flowers, but the weeds, being hardier, have survived. The small town has become a city of millions; there is no longer a sea, only a huge sewer, but the children...

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Centered around ephemeral shapes, Now—shapeless now—flailing— Yellows, blues, oranges and reds, Heat eating what surrounds it till it Can no more—eyes—in the fire. . . The way life moves toward danger, And eyes watch closely, Growing and slackening, Distant singing and laughter. . . The fires that hear stories of the ancient ways, Tarrying through the tales, The coldness of the wild...

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love is not a plague - punctured plumes: hoisted hooey, disaster's hood quack qualities dripping nectar worn whooshes, malady's fosters love ain't bounty bliss - Utopia: numb nature's cloak sewn by favor timid oak oozes pruned pleasures sassy stream girded in leisure lanky love is far from merit: gaunt grace's groomed by bruised verdicts felon features seeped'n hacked acme porous passion puking smith'reens love's a gullible game:...

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Moon, Through the periwinkles it rests rich, red, radiant, persuaded in lines we soon would not forget jubilance unfurled a jade resemblance of romance resounding and reminiscing in every word in every field in every feel the moon gifted to my hand brilliance burst at the seam of time of rythmn, of rhyme reflection of sun, not but an inflection of what has just begun hints of honeysuckle dripped...

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IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : XIII If you pull a lean long face Each day in fear of the next Saturday Time to tone down High C voice in Elysée Palace Yellow Jackets are closing in on the Champs Elysées Then if you insist on pulling that lone long face Just think on what could happen on Bastille Day Guest...

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