man is a display of man
man is a outer display
space is a outer display of man
space is a outer display of the universe
the universe is a display of the universe
the universe is a display of man
man is mankind display
man of space,man of display,man of mankind
outer space,outer mankind,outer focus
mankind focus on mankind
a focus space is a focus man
a focus space is a focus universe
mankind focus on outer space
time focus on time
“Jessamyn’s Song” is an early poem of mine that I started around age 14 and was substantially complete by age 16.
Jessamyn's Song (circa age 14-16)
by Michael R. Burch
16
There are meadows heathered with thoughts of you,
where the honeysuckle winds
in fragrant, tangled vines
down to the water's edge.
Through the wind-bent grass
I watch time pass
slow with the dying day
on its lolling, rolling way ...
And I know you’ll soon be mine.
17
The Best Poems of Michael R. Burch, Part II
The Most Popular Poems of Michael R. Burch, Part II
She bathes in silver
by Michael R. Burch
She bathes in silver,
~~~~~afloat~~~~~
on her reflections...
Kin
by Michael R. Burch
O pale, austere moon,
haughty beauty ...
what do we know of love,
or duty?
Styx
by Michael R. Burch, age 16
Black waters,
deep and dark and still . . .
all men have passed this way,
or will.
Bound
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 14-15
Now it is winter—the coldest night.
And as the light of the streetlamp casts strange shadows to the ground,
I have lost what I once found
in your arms.
Now it is winter—the coldest night.
And as the light of distant Venus fails to penetrate dark panes,
I have remade all my chains
and am bound.
Published as “Why Did I Go?” in my high school journal the Lantern in 1976. I have made slight changes here and there, but the poem is essentially the same as what I wrote in my early teens.
mankind evolve into a minute
mankind evolve into mankind
creativity evolve creativity
creation evolve into creation
creativity evolve into creation
beginning with time is beginning with creativity
a minute is a minute with creativity
time is a minute with creativity
a minute of creation is a minute of creativity
creation is mankind creation
creation is mankind creativity
creation is mankind minute of creation
time is a moral standard of time
time is a moral standard of creativity
a global race is a global race against time
the hands of time is the race against time
god is the hands of time
god is the hands of race against time
time is in the hands of god
time is in the hands of a global race
god is a race against the hands of time
time race against religion
religion race against religion
religion is a aftermath of a religion
a aftermath is a global aftermath
a aftermath is a global aftermath of religion
time is a race against time
time is a aftermath of a race against time
This is my modern English translation of a French poem by Voltaire, one of my all-time favorite writers. The poem is followed by two translations of epigrams by Voltaire.
Les Vous et Les Tu (“You, then and now”)
by Voltaire
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
These are poems about time, mortality, death, decay and loss ...
The Leveler
by Michael R. Burch
The nature of Nature
is bitter survival
from Winter’s bleak fury
till Spring’s brief revival.
The weak implore Fate;
bold men ravish, dishevel her ...
till both are cut down
by mere ticks of the Leveler.
Published by The Lyric, The Aurorean, Tucumcari Literary Review, Romantics Quarterly and in a YouTube video by Asma Masooma
***
These are poems about the passage of time, aging, mortality and death.
The Shrinking Season
by Michael R. Burch
With every wearying year
the weight of the winter grows
and while the schoolgirl outgrows
her clothes,
the widow disappears
in hers.
Published by Angle, Poem Today (featured poem), Heartfelt Death Poems, Girls and Goblins and Madly Jane
***
Distances
by Michael R. Burch
These are poems I have written about time, mortality, aging, death and loss.
Thirty
by Michael R. Burch
Thirty crept upon me slowly
with feline caution and a slowly-twitching tail ...
How patiently she waited for the winds to shift!
Now, claws unsheathed, she lies seething to assail
her helpless prey.
Modern Charon
by Michael R. Burch
