Elegy for a little girl, lost
This is an elegy that I dedicated to my mother, Christine Ena Burch, after her death from Covid pneumonia.
Elegy for a little girl, lost
by Michael R. Burch
. . . qui laetificat juventutem meam . . .
She was the joy of my youth,
and now she is gone.
. . . requiescat in pace . . .
May she rest in peace.
. . . amen . . .
Amen.
pensive
Springing, seeping,
Waters flow.
Lithely, floating,
Autumn glow.
Waxing, moaning,
Harvest sky.
Closing eyes,
Sorrowful cry.
THE VISIONS OF GRACE - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS
i’m looking for the face i had before the world was made
I was the primordial flaring forth, the gravitational waves,
the whirling galaxies, and the exploding supernovas that would become stars and planets.
I was the steaming planet Earth, the bacteria awash in the sea, and the early eukaryotes and multicellular animals.
I exploded in the Cambrian explosion, stumbled onto land, walked with dinosaurs,
saw trees and flowers appear, walked upright in Africa, and walked on the moon.
A Moment
In between the rain
The bright blue sky shows its face
Just for a moment
Thanksgiving Day
The table of linen is set, welcoming,
cornucopia centerpiece,
we're elderly and young,
rich, middle class, and poor,
peace is among us-
no quarrelsome tongues today,
so grateful to God,
on this Thanksgiving Day.
Life after R*pe
Men make me sick
I almost wish they didn't exist
Who could ever predict?
A tragedy such as this
In my own home
While alone
Tears soak the same pillow where he once laid his head
Everyday I am forced to sleep in the same damn bed
Where I once drew blood of my attacker
Why did I shower later after?
Stupid.
So the only evidence they had were my clothes and his blood on my sheets
He was released after a few weeks
I found out the news and tears watered my cheeks
one race
The firmament above, beneath we exist,
This diversity in divine artistry
Same eyes divers sizes
Different skin same sin
Different color same honor
Same human same humor
Why try to sort out maize from corn? They are all same
Cus just one shot, your race wont spare you
Two Songs From a Play
I
I saw a staring virgin stand
Where holy Dionysus died,
And tear the heart out of his side.
And lay the heart upon her hand
And bear that beating heart away;
Of Magnus Annus at the spring,
As though God's death were but a play.
Another Troy must rise and set,
Another lineage feed the crow,
Another Argo's painted prow
Drive to a flashier bauble yet.
The Roman Empire stood appalled:
It dropped the reins of peace and war
When that fierce virgin and her Star
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Two Words
'God' is composed of letters three,
But if you put an 'l'
Before the last it seems to me
A synonym for Hell.
For all of envy, greed and hate
The human heart can hold
Respond unto the devil's bait
Of Gold.
When God created Gold to be
For our adorning fit,
I little think he dreamed that we
Would come to worship it.
But when you ruefully have scanned
The chronicles of Time,
You'll find that lucre lends a hand
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Two Children
Give me your hand, oh little one!
Like children be we two;
Yet I am old, my day is done
That barely breaks for you.
A baby-basket hard you hold,
With in it cherries four:
You cherish them as men do gold,
And count them o'er.
And then you stumble in your walk;
The cherries scattered lie.
You pick them up with foolish talk
And foolish glad am I,
When you wipe one quite clean of dust
And give it unto me;
So in the baby-basket just
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