Enjoy!!
 

OTRWJ

You and I met through an online ezine called NPAC, is that correct?

MIKE

We did meet through NPAC. I was one of the first NPAC judges, and I helped introduce a number of other NPAC judges to Michael Morton. Later, two of the judges I introduced to Michael Morton inquired about him. So if I remember correctly, I emailed you to see if you knew what had happened to Michael. You emailed me back that you were “following your intuition” and sent me links to three of your short stories. I began to help you with proofreading and copyediting of your work, and “the rest is history.” So I believe your intuition was correct, if not nigh infallible. Perhaps you can bottle it and make a fortune selling it!

OTRWJ

Mike, do you come from a family of poets? 

MIKE

Up until just recently, I would have said no. But now my two sisters are both writing poetry, so I will amend that to yes. My mother is English, and she instilled love of poetry in me from an early age. She used to recite “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes to me when I was a young boy, and it’s still one of my favorite poems. Noyes died the year I was born, 1958.

OTRWJ

Publishers?  Seems gifted children often have very talented parents.

MIKE

My mother didn’t graduate from high school, as schoolgirls in England in her day often didn’t, but when she came to the United States and took her GED test, she had the highest possible score in English. So I believe her influence on me was a good one. I’ve never heard my father express any interest in poetry or writing, but my mother taught me to love books, for which I am eternally grateful to her. 

OTRWJ

When you were a young child, did you ever dream you would be doing what you are now? If not, what did you dream about doing?

MIKE

I was always a dreamer, and still am. I dreamed of saving the world, and I still do. If I was playing a game of pool, I would imagine that the outcome of the world rested on every shot. I dreamed of being the President of the United States and solving all the world’s problems. Today I dream of being Michael the Archangel, come to the world for the last days, to put an end to sin, suffering, death and hell. If we’re going to dream and pray, why not dream the biggest dreams and pray the biggest prayers of all?

OTRWJ

Could you tell us a little about how your family inspired or didn't inspire your dreams?

MIKE

I think my dreams were always and entirely my own. I don’t think I ever told anyone any of my dreams. In fact, you’re probably the first to know! But of course my family supported me. My father provided for me, and my mother encouraged me. So of course I owe who and what I am today to them.

 

I live in Nashville, Tennessee. I was born in Orlando, Florida on February 19, 1958, on the cusp of Aquarius and Pisces. I like to think it was an auspicious day. (Smile)

OTRWJ

Do you have children? 

MIKE

I have two sons, Nick and Jeremy.

OTRWJ

Do you envision your child going too and living on other planets?  Yourself?

MIKE

They will have to take up living on other planets with their mothers! I assume I have no say in the matter. My wife Beth won’t let Jeremy, who is 14, ride a motorbike, much less live on Mars. I intend to stay entirely earthbound, only visiting the stars in my dreams and heaven (hopefully) when I die and get my wings.

OTRWJ

You have a publishing business. Would you please share some of the books you’ve published and are going to publish.  

MIKE

Thanks for asking. I and my partner, the Maltese poet Joe Ruggier who now lives in Canada, have published several books through Joe’s Multicultural Books, or Mbooks. Joe is quite a story himself, having sold over 20,000 books – most of them door-to-door. Since most poetry books by “major” poets barely sell these days, Joe is literally (pun intended) in a league by himself.

Our most recent book is one you helped get rolling, by introducing me to Takashi “Thomas” Tanemori. Takashi-san, as his friends call him, is in my opinion an illuminated saint. His book is called Hiroshima: Bridge to Forgiveness. Takashi was the Number One Son of an illustrious Japanese Samurai family and was trained in the Seven Codes of the Samurai by the father he adored. He lost his mother, father and four other family members to the Hiroshima atomic bomb blast when he was only eight years old.

He grew up as an orphan in post-war Japan. Japan is very family-centric, and without a mother and father Takashi was treated as an outcast, sometimes having to scavenge food like a rat. He grew up bitter and disillusioned. As a young man he tried to take his life and failed, further dishonoring his family name and the memory of his father. He immigrated to the United States seeking vengeance on the Americans he held responsible for his personal holocaust.

But in the United States he became ill and doctors who saw him as a “guinea pig” for research into radiation poisoning soon had him in such dire straits that he cowered under his bed and cried out to the sun, “I hate you! Go away and leave me alone!” Yet eventually, through the kindness of strangers and transcendent visions, he learned the path to inner peace through forgiveness, and went on to become a poet, artist and peace activist.

We have also published books of poems by Zyskandar Jaimot, Emery Campbell, T. Merrill, and V. Ulea, a Russian poet who writes in English.

OTRWJ

Where do you see the publishing industry in twenty years?

MIKE

MIKE

Yes, definitely. I’ve owned and operated a computer software business for over 25 years. It pays the bills so that I can write and publish in my free time. Writing is, in effect, my vacation from work.

OTRWJ

Have you any books of 'Michael Burch's' poetry we should know about?

MIKE

OTRWJ

Where do you see yourself and your publishing business in five to ten years?

MIKE

I would like to make writing and publishing my full-time occupation. If I can devote all my time and energy to writing and publishing, the sky (or perhaps even the stars) may be the limit.

MIKE

That’s an interesting question! Perhaps the answer depends on the artist and his Muse. Rimbaud chose to stop writing poetry and instead became a gunrunner and slavetrader, if I remember correctly. Matthew Arnold chose to stop writing poetry when he could no longer “convey joy.” And yet many artists and poets feel that they have a “calling.” I believe we may have to choose between Grace and Karma. If we believe the words come by Grace, as a gift, then perhaps the words choose us. If we believe that everything is cause and effect, then perhaps poetry is subject to Karma, and suddenly everything is up to us.

I believe in the Muse, and in Grace, and I never have writer’s block. But I never try to force the words to obey me. Perhaps God leaves much of the direction of our lives up to us. But if we choose to believe in Grace, then perhaps the equation of life changes. Much of religion is based on Karma, on condemnation, on repentance, on confession, and sacrifice. I simply choose not to believe in these things, at least not in a spiritual sense, and ignore them.

I believe in Divine Love and Grace, and I am unafraid to receive every possible blessing, and to pass every possible blessing on, never worrying about being considered proud, or vainglorious, or taking credit where it is not due. If we give all the credit to Grace, how can we err? And isn’t the Archangel Michael happy about his, wonderful, glorious wings, and the fact that he can fly?

I recently saw a poodle bounding toward me, actually leaping into the air with each step, full of joy, and I think this is how we should see ourselves and our accomplishments. The poodle wasn’t arrogant; it was simply full of joy to be able to run and greet a friend. That’s how artists and poets should feel about their ability to “fly” and “bound” for the sake of their friends.

OTRWJ

Could you stop writing poetry if you wanted? 

MIKE

I suppose I could. But why would I want to? An eagle with sufficient food might not have to fly, but wouldn’t it want to fly? So I hope I’ll always want to write poetry, although I do take “breathers” every now and then.

OTRWJ

What would you tell poets just starting out?

MIKE

I would tell them to read. Read a lot. Find poetry you actually like to read, and immerse yourself in it. Read poets like William Blake, Walt Whitman, Robert Frost, Hart Crane, Dylan Thomas, and Louise Bogan. Read the Norton Anthologies from cover to cover, and circle or highlight the lines you especially like. Go back and read the poems you like, and the lines you like, over and over again. When you start to write, imagine you’re learning to ride a bicycle or to do a magic trick. Don’t worry so much about the results at first as the experience. If you have talent, and if you persevere, good results will come. Don’t be overly critical of yourself. Just be honest.

If one poem doesn’t seem to work, put it aside for a rainy day, and work on another poem. All the bad poems don’t matter a bit, except for what you learn from them. Only the good poems matter, and a handful of good poems is all it takes to stand out from the pack. Write for yourself at first, but as you grow as a writer, begin to consider your readers. The reader is the object of the poet’s affection. If you write about things that only you can understand, you will alienate your readers. So try to share experiences with readers. Try to put them “inside” the poem, rather than making them outsiders. When you can touch and move readers, then you're a poet.

OTRWJ

I read that poets are the hardiest of all artists as their works are rarely known in their own lifetimes.  Would you agree?  And if so, why are they so ignored until after their deaths?

MIKE

It’s true that some of the greatest poets were hardly known in their own time: Emily Dickinson, William Blake, Gerard Manley Hopkins. Both Blake and Whitman published their own books. One reason for this is that some poets are simply ahead of their times. Blake wrote lovely poems about chimneysweeps and the world eventually “caught up” to Blake and eventually outlawed hazardous labor that put children at risk.

Whitman was ahead of his time on many issues, and the civilized world still hasn’t caught up with him to this day on matters of universal tolerance and brotherhood. It sometimes takes time for the public to “catch up” to the great poets.

Today Rumi is the best-selling poet in the United States, and Rumi is a poet the world may be trying to “catch up to” for centuries to come. The best poets “dig deep” into the human psyche and the human condition. Sometimes the world doesn’t want to hear what they have to say. Sometimes the world isn’t quite ready to hear what they have to say. But the best words refuse to die easy deaths, and that’s why they often survive the poets who wrote them.

OTRWJ

Do you believe in reincarnation?  Have you been here before?

MIKE

I don’t have any memories of another life. But I may have visions of a future life. That would be pretty cool, if it’s true. I know a poet who has very vivid visions of being alive at the time of Jesus. She tells me things that aren’t in the gospels, such as the fact that Judas Iscariot was a scholar, and that Jesus had lower eyeteeth that were longer than his other bottom teeth. She seems very certain about these visions, and I can’t and don’t discount them.

While I don’t have memories of another life, I sometimes think that I have an “old spirit” that is full of light and power, and increasingly awakening. I’ve prayed for people and they’ve seen angels, or the Great White Light of heaven, so I am encouraged that we may not be “merely” human beings. Who we are in the spirit is yet to be revealed. Some of the people of the time of Jesus thought John the Baptist was Elijah. But I’m more concerned with who I am now, and who and what I am becoming, than I am with past lives I can’t remember. Maybe I don't want to remember them, in which case digging them up might be a mistake.

OTRWJ

If artists are the creators of heaven on earth, what part of heaven are you creating for the world Mike?

MIKE

The highest heaven, where there is only Divine Love and Grace, and God is all in all. I’m afraid many people are all too willing to settle for a lesser heaven. I wrote some lines about this:
 
There are very many “heavens,”
All of them hells,
Except for the one
Where the Good God dwells.

If you dream of going to “heaven” while your enemies burn in hell forever, what sort of “God” will you be spending eternity with? If “God” tells you to choose “eternal bliss” with him, while sentencing your loved ones to an eternal hell, what sort of “heaven” is that?

When I read 1 Corinthians 13, in which Saint Paul tells us the nature of Divine Love, I must put on my “thinking cap,” for I am told that all the words of the Bible are merely noise, if God is not Love, and that God is nothing if he is not Love, despite all his knowledge, wisdom, faith and power. I am told that Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, and never fails. If these things are true, why should I settle for anything less than the highest heaven, where a God of Love is all in all?

OTRWJ

The more gifted, the more you are asked to do.  Do you agree?

MIKE

That’s a good question. In a universe of Karma, this might be true. In the realms of Grace, it might not be true. A lot depends on whether there is a Higher Power, a God who is looking for vessels to fill. I simply ask to be a vessel, and I know in my spirit that I am not condemned, for how can a God of Love condemn his own spirit? Putting aside condemnation is very freeing, because we can simply be “blown by the wind.” If the wind blowing is the Spirit of God, then the fewer the constraints, the better.

If we don’t believe in Grace, and fall back under Karma, then perhaps the equation changes. But it is very hard to be perfect, and even the best actions can have negative consequences. So I choose not to condemn myself, or others, and if miracles and wonders are performed through me, all the better. I think we should be open to the miraculous, and we should act with compassion and lovingkindness in our daily lives. But the best gifts are the gifts of Grace, and Grace comes without strings. So I never feel that I have “let God down” and I never feel condemned for being human.

OTRWJ

Tragedy and much suffering seem to be part of great artists.  Why?

MIKE

The last time I checked, every human being was subject to suffering and death. We may overemphasize the suffering of artists because they make art out of their suffering. I believe artists and poets are very good at conveying, and sympathizing with, human suffering. I’m not at all convinced that they suffer more than anyone else. It seems to me that we all suffer and die together. If anyone is ecstatically happy all the time, I have yet to meet him, or her.

OTRWJ

What will happen to our spirits as we become part machine and part human?

MIKE 

I think our spirits will remain the same. Our bodies are organic machines. Did you know that the atoms that comprise our bodies are constantly replaced? Every few months your body is entirely reconstituted. There may not be an atom left that was part of you when you were born. We are truly strangers and pilgrims, and most of our bodies are merely empty space.

I think of Ronald Reagan, who was “completely gone” at the time of his death, due to Alzheimer’s disease. And yet at the moment of his death he opened his eyes, and family members said that he looked at his beloved Nancy with comprehension.

I read the account of a doctor who said that a man whose mind was physically “gone” was able to wake up and actually talk to family members before passing on. While such things are impossible to “prove” scientifically, I would venture that the human body is simply a highly organized “cellular machine” and that our spirits are like those amazing photons that wink into and out of existence, disobeying even the limitation of the speed of light. Entangled photons can “dance” at opposite ends of the universe. Perhaps our spirits are also Light and exist simultaneously in other dimensions. Paul said that despite our human bodies we are already “seated in the heavenlies.”

OTRWJ

Evolution is ruthless and continues marching forward whether we like it or not.  Do you 'go with the flow' or are you one of the 'rebel artists' who has a harder time? 

MIKE

I believe evolution is our friend, not our enemy. Neuroscientists have actually determined that the “compassion centers” of the brains of Tibetan monks seem to evolve during their lifetimes, as a result of meditation and/or prayer. When they meditate with compassion the “good” gamma rays generated by their brains swamp the “bad” or “negative” gamma rays. It’s a fascinating study, and I feel that I can confirm it myself.

In three short years of praying compassionate prayers “in the spirit,” I feel as though my brain has evolved, and my heart also. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that my body has created new blood vessels, that my heart is stronger, and that my brain has evolved new “compassion” circuitry that enables my prayers to produce or engage in miracles. While it seems obvious that evolution takes place in the natural world, there are two tremendous mysteries: (1) how did life begin; and (2) how can highly complex systems like the eyeball and the female reproductive system “happen at random”?

How can a baby be nurtured in the womb by accident, when a zillion things have to happen “just so”? It may be that God directs evolution, or that our genes are intelligent, or that our spirits guide evolution. If something like this is the case, there is tremendous hope for the future. We are not the result of random mutation, but there is an intelligence directing us toward some ultimate goal. What would the ultimate goal of a life form be, if not to eliminate suffering and death?

OTRWJ

When you look back at your life Michael, has it gone steadfastly towards your hearts desires, or has it instead taken many unexpected twists and turns along the way?

MIKE

That’s hard to say. First, one would have to know one’s deepest desires. For most of my life, I thought my deepest desire was to be rich, famous and have every woman who struck my fancy. In those respects, I have hardly achieved my wildest dreams. I am reasonably well off, certainly not famous, and I have been married for fifteen years to my wife Beth. But in the last three years it has occurred to me that I have “bigger dreams,” and who is to say that they can’t yet be realized? Suppose that I write something and children and their mothers and fathers are freed from the fear of hell?

Suppose I write something and the world changes as it did when Blake wrote about children working as chimneysweeps, after which child labor laws were eventually enacted? Now I simply keep my options open. A lot seems to depend on God. If God is Love, and if God is looking for vessels to convey his spirit to the world, then I think there is a good chance even my wildest dreams can be realized. If we live in a world of Karma, then I may be “barking up the wrong tree.”

OTRWJ

If you were told you only had six months left to live, how would you spend them?

MIKE

I would try to put all my affairs to rest, so that I could ultimately rest in peace. I would tell my family goodbye, and not to worry about me. I would cut all the cords of Karma that tied me to this world, so that when I entered the tunnel of light, I won’t have to look back. When the angels appeared to suggest that I review my life, I would tell them there is nothing to review, nothing left undone, nothing to judge or condemn. I would tell them I chose to stop judging and condemning myself, and others, and that I certainly wouldn’t want to start again in heaven, the realm of Divine Love and Grace.

I don’t think I would do a lot of things I haven’t done in this life. I would probably eat whatever I liked and enjoy each and every meal, but that’s what I already do now. I would probably try to publish my favorite poems and perhaps some letters of advice to my sons, wife, family and friends. I would suggest that they to read Walt Whitman and Mark Twain and not believe all the sheet, utter nonsense of orthodox religion.

I might write a few outraged letters to various churches and pastors, asking them why they drove me from the church and God for over thirty years, with their horrific visions of an eternal hell that surely doesn’t exist, and would make God the Devil if it did. I might start working out, just in case I really am Michael the Archangel and will have to chain the Devil in a non-eternal hell for a period of time until he learns to stop accusing the brethren. (Smile)

OTRWJ

Tomorrow's not promised.   Do you live your life 100% or are you a more 'middle path' person.  Are artists ever able to truly live the 'middle path'?

MIKE

I’m not sure what the middle path is. We’re either alive or dead, unless we’re in a coma. Now, if you mean jumping out of airplanes or riding mechanical bulls … no, because I don’t enjoy those sorts of things. What I like to do is read and dream and imagine and do all sorts of productive things, and I’ve been doing just that every day of my life. I never waste time unless I’m resting, and resting is not wasting time, so I don’t feel that I’m ever not living a full life. But I simply don’t need some of the things other people need: excitement, wild parties, risk, danger. If I were to subdue the Devil, I would hope to do it by the power of God, so that it would be “easy as pie.”

OTRWJ

Do you believe at the moment of death, you will be pleased with the way your life has gone?  If not, why?

MIKE

I think I will be pleased. The reason is simple. I have had a revelation in my spirit that God does not condemn me. Now, if I was doing something displeasing to him, why wouldn’t he tell me here on earth, while there is time to reform? If he doesn’t condemn me here, what sense would it make for him to condemn me later, when it’s too late? And if God doesn’t condemn me, why should I condemn myself? I am certainly not perfect, but I don’t expect my wife to be perfect, or my sons, or anyone else. It seems to me that when I came to earth, I chose an impossible task for myself. I chose to put an end to sin, suffering, death and hell. But how can a human being do those things? Only God can do those things. So if any part of my chosen task is left incomplete, it would be silly of me to judge myself.

OTRWJ

People seem to be 'asleep' to their higher selves.  What does it take to wake us up?  Can poetry do that Mike?

MIKE

I believe poetry, music and art can help. But I didn’t awaken to my higher self until I learned to pray in the spirit. When I learned to pray in the spirit, I began to receive in the spirit, and what I received was very simple. I learned three things:

God is Light, and in him there is no darkness at all.

There is no condemnation in Christ. I believe we are all in Christ, but many of us don’t know it, while some of the people who “know” it have everything backwards. All condemnation comes from ourselves, and much of it is the result of religion gone haywire.

God desires chesed (mercy, compassion, loving kindness), not sacrifice (the things we “do” and “give up” for God).

When I understood that God is Light and does not condemn me (or anyone) for being human, and that what God desires is an attitude of the heart, not sheer performance, getting in touch with my “higher self” became extraordinarily easy. It seems we have made something very simple amazingly complicated.

If God is Love and does not condemn mankind, then the main impediment to enlightenment is any religion based on condemnation, guilt, shame, repentance, confession and sacrifice. Where poetry, art and music can help is that they are based on sympathy for all life. But to find light and power in our spirits, I believe we have to stop condemning ourselves and other people. Reading poets like Walt Whitman and Rumi is one way to begin this path.

For me, the path started and ended when I compared myself to Jesus Christ, and simply “gave up” on any idea of my own “righteousness.” Jesus reserved all his strongest words for the religious experts of his time, and what they were good at was ignoring their own faults while berating others for theirs. In the end, it seems both paths lead to the same point: putting aside condemnation and embracing compassion. If we learn this through the arts, or through religion, it doesn’t matter, if God is Love. But it’s hard to learn through religion because of theology and dogma. Poetry, art and music tell us that love and grace are free and for everyone. Orthodox religion tries to bottle up love and grace, put a lid on them, and sell them as part of a package.

OTRWJ

Is prayer part of your life?  Sometimes artists say when doing their artform, that is their prayer.

MIKE

Yes, I usually pray for an hour or more a day, most days. But I never feel that I “have” to pray, nor do I have a particular “prayer list.”  I say very short, powerful prayers of the spirit in my “prayer closet.” Then I pray for an hour or more while walking and picking up trash in our neighborhood. This way, prayer never seems like a chore, although I pray while doing a self-appointed chore.

I dream about healing and miracles and angels descending from heaven on my prayers. Imagination and dreams are an integral part of my prayers. Some of my poems these days are prayers, and I’ll share one with you in closing.

I learned the nature of Divine Love by reading 1 Corinthians 13 and asking what God must like if he inspired the most inspired passage in the New Testament, and then by reading what children have said and questioned about God, while constantly asking myself “What is the nature of Divine Love?” and “What is not the nature of Divine Love?” What I learned surprised me. I came to understand that Divine Love does not demand worship, or praise, or sacrifice. The children are right and the great theologians are quite obviously wrong … and perhaps that's why we have to become like little children to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Our own parents don't demand worship, praise and sacrifice. Why should God?

I Pray Tonight

–for Peri

I pray tonight
that the light
might
surround you.

I pray
by day
that, come what may,
no demon confound you.

I pray for tomorrow
an end to your sorrow.
May angels’ white chorales
sing, and astound you

Through our long years of dreaming to be one
we grew toward an enigmatic light
that gently warmed our tendrils. Was it sun?
We had no eyes to tell; we loved despite
the lack of all sensation–all but one:
we felt the night’s deep chill, the air so bright
at dawn we quivered limply, overcome.

To touch was all we knew, and how to bask.
We knew to touch; we grew to touch; we felt
spring’s urgency, midsummer’s heat, fall’s lash,
wild winter’s ice and thaw and fervent melt.
We felt returning light and could not ask
its meaning, or if something was withheld
more glorious. To touch seemed life’s great task.

For all that I remembered, I forgot
her name, her face, the reason that we loved ...
and yet I hold her close within my thought.
I feel the burnished weight of auburn hair
that fell across her face, the apricot
clean scent of her shampoo, the way she glowed
so palely in the moonlight, angel-wan.

The memory of her gathers like a flood
and bears me to that night, that only night,
when she and I were one, and if I could ...
I’d reach to her this time and, smiling, brush
the hair out of her eyes, and hold intact
each feature, each impression. Love is such
a threadbare sort of magic, it is gone
before we recognize it. I would crush
my lips to hers to hold their memory,
if not more tightly, less elusively.

A black ringlet
curls to lie
at the nape of her neck,
glistening with sweat
in the evaporate moonlight ...
This is what I remember

now that I cannot forget.

And tonight,
if I have forgotten her name,
I remember:
rigid wire and white lace
half-impressed in her flesh ...

our soft cries, like regret,

... the enameled white clips
of her bra strap
still inscribe dimpled marks
that my kisses erase ...