The HyperTexts
Michael R. Burch Epigrams and Quotes
This page contains epigrams, epitaphs, quotes, quips, jokes, puns, parodies, haiku, limericks and wordplay penned by
Michael R. Burch
along with a number of epitaphs, elegies, translations, interpretations and paraphrases ...
BRIEF ENCOUNTERS: PROSE EPIGRAMS
• Elevate your words, not their volume. Rain grows flowers, not thunder.—
Rumi, translation by Michael R. Burch
• No wind is favorable to the man who lacks direction.—
Seneca the Younger, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Little sparks may ignite great Infernos.—
Dante, translation by Michael R. Burch
• I found the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.—attributed to
Sappho, translation by Michael R. Burch
• You can crop all the flowers but you cannot detain spring.
—Pablo Neruda, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Warmthless beauty attracts but does not engage us; it floats like hookless bait.—
Capito, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
• Love distills the eyes’ desires, love bewitches the heart with its grace.—
Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
• The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and hitting the mark.—
Michelangelo, translation by Michael R. Burch
• If we shoot for the stars but only end up on Mars, that's still quite a ride.—
Michael R. Burch
• He who follows will never surpass.—
Michelangelo, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Nothing enables authority like silence.—
Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch
• My objective is not to side with the majority, but to avoid the ranks of the insane.—
Marcus Aurelius, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Time is sufficient for anyone who uses it wisely.—
Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Blinding ignorance misleads us. Myopic mortals, open your eyes!—
Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch
• It is easier to oppose evil from the beginning than at the end.—
Leonardo da Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Fools call wisdom foolishness.—
Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
• A man may attempt to burnish pure gold, but who can think to improve on his mother?—
Mahatma Gandhi, translation by Michael R. Burch
• A mother's heart is God's ultimate masterpiece.—St. Therese of Lisieux,
loose translation/interpretation/paraphrase by Michael R. Burch
• Truths are more likely discovered by one man than consortiums.—
René Descartes, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
• To live without philosophizing is to close one's eyes and never attempt to open them.—
René Descartes, translation by Michael R. Burch
• One true friend is worth ten thousand kin.—
Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Not to speak one’s mind is slavery.—
Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
• I would rather die standing than kneel, a slave.—
Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Fresh tears are wasted on old griefs.—
Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Be bull-strong when you're angry, weak as an almond blossom when you
love.—Mahmoud Darwish
, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Heaven and hell seem unreasonable to me: the actions of men do not deserve such extremes.—
Jorge Luis Borges, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Reality is neither probable nor likely.—
Jorge Luis Borges, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Thought is a bird of unbounded space, which in a cage of words may unfold its
wings but cannot fly.—
Khalil Gibran, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Improve yourself by others' writings, attaining freely what they purchased at the expense of experience.—
Socrates, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
• Experience is the best teacher but a hard taskmaster.—
Michael R. Burch
• Time will tell, as it always does in the end.—
Michael R. Burch
• Time flies, until it's flown.—
Michael R. Burch
• The most dangerous words ever uttered by human lips are “Thus saith the LORD.” —
Michael R. Burch
• Can a true religion be based on lies? How can the Bible be "infallible" when from beginning to end it commands and condones but never condemns the satanic institution of slavery?—
Michael R. Burch
• Atheists give God the "benefit of the doubt."—Michael R. Burch
• The enemy is not without, but within our gates; it is with our own complacence, our own folly, our own cutthroats and criminals that we must contend. —
Cicero, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
• Hypocrisy may deceive the most perceptive adult, but the dullest child recognizes and is revolted by it, however ingeniously disguised.—
Leo Tolstoy, translation by Michael R. Burch
• Just as I select a ship when it's time to travel, or a house when it's time to change residences, even so I will choose when it's time to depart from life.―
Seneca, speaking about the right to euthanasia in the first century AD, translation by Michael R. Burch
There are more prose epigrams later on this page.
TRANSLATIONS OF POETIC EPIGRAMS
An unbending tree
breaks easily.
—Lao Tzu, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Once fanaticism has gangrened brains
the incurable malady invariably remains.
—Voltaire, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Love is a canvas created by nature
and completed by imagination.
—Voltaire
, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
A question that sometimes drives me hazy:
am I or are the
others crazy?
—Albert Einstein, poetic translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Booksellers laud authors for novel editions
as pimps praise their whores for exotic positions.
—Thomas Campion,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
To know what we do know,
and to know what we don't,
is true knowledge.
—Confucius, sometimes incorrectly attributed to Nicolas Copernicus,
loose translation by
Michael R. Burch
Without looking into our hearts,
how can we find Paradise?
—Kabir Das, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Where our senses fail,
reason must prevail.
—Galileo Galilei, loose translation by
Michael R. Burch
Athens, celestial city, crowned with violets, beloved of poets, bulwark of
Greece!
—Pindar, fragment 64, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Do not, O my soul, aspire to immortality, but exhaust life.
—Pindar,
Pythian Ode III, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
While nothing can save us from death,
still love can redeem each breath.
—Pablo Neruda, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
There are more Pablo Neruda translations later on this page ...
Everyone chases the way happiness feels,
unaware how it nips at their heels.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
The world of learning takes a crazy turn
when
teachers are taught to think and discern!
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Hungry man, reach for the book:
it's a hook,
a harpoon.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
EPITAPHS, ELEGIES AND EULOGIES
Elegy for a little girl, lost
by Michael R. Burch
for my mother, Christine Ena 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.
I was touched by this Latin prayer, which I discovered in a novel I
read as a teenager, around age 16 or 17, and chose to incorporate into a poem.
From what I now understand, “
ad deum qui laetificat juventutem meam”
means “to the God who gives joy to my youth,” but I am sticking with my original
interpretation: a lament for a little girl at her funeral. The phrase can be
traced back to Saint Jerome's translation of Psalm 42 in the Vulgate Latin Bible
(circa 385 AD). I dedicated the poem to my mother, Christine Ena Burch, after
her death, because she was always a little girl at heart, and pure of heart like
a little girl.
Mother, I’ve made a terrible mess of things ...
Is there grace in the world, as the nightingale sings?
—Michael R. Burch
Death numbs all, our sedation.
Daredevil, dry your eyes.
—Michael R. Burch, "Daredevil"
Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
Americans are rightly outraged when Ukrainians are victims of ethnic cleansing, but
millions of "good Christians" turn their backs when the victims are Palestinians...
Ko Un was speechless at Auschwitz.
Someday, when it’s too late,
will we be speechless at Gaza?
—Michael R. Burch
After the Poetry Recital
by Michael R. Burch
Later there’ll be talk of saving whales
over racks of lamb and flambéed snails.
Sinking
by Michael R. Burch
for Virginia Woolf
Weigh me down with stones ...
fill all the pockets of my gown ...
I’m going down,
mad as the world
that can’t
recover,
to where even mermaids drown.
Untitled
Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do stars
applaud the glowworm’s stellar mimicry?
—excerpt from “Mayflies” by Michael R. Burch
THE CHIASMUS AND SPOONERISM
To avoid being a hack writer, hack away at your writing.—Michael R. Burch
To fall an inch short of infinity is to fall infinitely short.—Michael R. Burch
Love is either wholly folly
or fully holy.
—Michael R. Burch
Love's full of cute paradoxes
and highly acute poxes.
—Michael R. Burch
When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced.
Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.
—White Elk, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
It’s time to impeach
the peach imp.
—Michael R. Burch
Teddy Roosevelt spoke softly and carried a big stick;
Donald Trump speaks loudly and carries a big shtick.
—Michael R. Burch
Trump's supporters go on and on about the "deep state," but they're in a deep
state of denial. — Michael R. Burch
Trump's goal is not to be a good president, but to be president for good, like
his hero Putin. — Michael R. Burch
Is Trump the American Messiah, or MESSiah? Jesus Christ had the courage of his
convictions, while the only convictions Trump has are of the criminal variety. —
Michael R. Burch
The Trumps, who got their start ripping off the government and tenants by
building federal housing, will now become trumped tenants of the government they
ripped off. — Michael R. Burch
We need a Blue Wave or we can wave a blue goodbye to American democracy. —
Michael R. Burch
Milli Vanilli seemed like two singers who could have been models, but they turned out to be two models pretending to be singers. —Michael R. Burch
We all have our limits: I will go to great lengths to avoid the word "chiasmi."— Michael R. Burch
Old Pantaloons, an Extended Chiasmus
by
Michael R. Burch
Old pantaloons are soft and white,
prudent days, imprudent nights
when fingers slip through drawers to feel
that which they long most to steal.
Old panty loons are soft and white,
prudent days, imprudent nights
when fingers slip through drawers to steal
that which they long most to feel.
EPIGRAMS PROPER & IMPROPER
Fleet Tweet: Apologies to Shakespeare
by
Michael R. Burch
a tweet
by any other name
would be as fleet!
—
@mikerburch
Fleet Tweet II: Further Apologies to Shakespeare
by
Michael R. Burch
Remember, doggonit,
heroic verse crowns the Shakespearean sonnet!
So if you intend to write a couplet,
please do it on the doublet!
—
@mikerburch
Stage Fright
by
Michael R. Burch
To be or not to be?
In the end Hamlet
opted for naught.
Attention Span Gap
by
Michael R. Burch
What if a poet, Shakespeare,
were still living to tweet to us here?
He couldn't write sonnets,
just couplets, doggonit,
and we wouldn't have Hamlet or Lear!
Yes, a sonnet may end in a couplet,
which we moderns can write in a doublet,
in a flash, like a tweet.
Does that make it
complete?
Should a poem be reduced to a stublet?
Bring back that Grand Era when men
had attention spans long as their pens,
or rather the quills
of the
monsieurs and
fils
who gave us the Dress, not its hem!
Please click here for more
poems by Michael R.
Burch about Shakespeare.
Autumn Conundrum
by
Michael R. Burch
It's not that every leaf must
finally fall,
it's just that we can never catch them all.
Piercing the Shell
by
Michael R. Burch
If we strip away all the accouterments of war,
perhaps we'll discover what the heart is for.
Childless
by
Michael R. Burch
How can she bear her grief?
Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight
of one fallen star.
don’t forget ...
by
Michael R. Burch
for Beth
don’t forget to remember
that Space is curved
(like your Heart)
and that even Light is bent
by your Gravity.
I dedicated this poem to the love of my life, but you are welcome to dedicate it
to the love of yours, if you like it. The opening lines were
inspired by a famous love poem by e. e. cummings.
Kissin’ ’n’ buzzin’
by
Michael R. Burch
Kissin’ ’n’ buzzin’
the bees rise
in a dizzy circle of two.
Oh, when I’m with you,
I feel like kissin’ ’n’ buzzin’ too!
This is another poem I wrote for my wife, but you're welcome to share it with
that special someone, if you like it.
Styx
by
Michael R. Burch
Black waters,
deep and dark and still . . .
all men have passed this way,
or will.
Nun Fun Undone
by
Michael R. Burch
after Richard Thomas Moore
Abbesses'
recesses
are not for excesses!
Here and Hereafter
by
Michael R. Burch
Life’s saving graces are love, pleasure, laughter ...
wisdom, it seems, is for the Hereafter.
Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by
Michael R. Burch
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
Laughter’s Cry
by
Michael R. Burch
Because life is a mystery, we laugh
and do not know the half.
Because death is a mystery, we cry
when one is gone, our numbering thrown awry.
Stormfront
by
Michael R. Burch
Our distance is frightening:
a distance like the abyss between heaven and earth
interrupted by bizarre and terrible lightning.
Incompatibles
by
Michael R. Burch
Reason’s treason!
cries the Heart.
Love’s insane,
replies the Brain.
Intimations
by
Michael R. Burch
Show me your most intimate items of apparel;
begin with the hem of your quicksilver slip ...
Imperfect Perfection
by
Michael R. Burch
You’re too perfect for words—
a problem for a poet.
Expert Advice
by
Michael R. Burch
Your breasts are
perfect for your lithe, slender body.
Please stop making false comparisons your hobby!
The Reason for the Rain
by
Michael R. Burch
The day’s eyes were blue
until you appeared
and they wept at your beauty.
The Reason for the Rain (II)
by
Michael R. Burch
The sky was blue
until you appeared
and it wept at your beauty.
Liquid Assets
by
Michael R. Burch
And so I have loved you,
and so I have lost,
accrued disappointment, ledgered its cost,
debited wisdom, credited pain . . .
My assets remaining are liquid again.
Dry Hump
by
Michael R. Burch
You came to me as rain breaks on the desert
when every flower springs to life at once.
But joys? Mere wan illusions to the expert:
the Bedouin has learned how not to want.
Multiplication, Tabled
or Procreation Inflation
by Michael R. Burch
for the Religious Right
“Be fruitful and multiply”—
great advice, for a fruitfly!
But for women and men,
simple Simons, say, “WHEN!”
honeybee
by
michael r. burch
love was a little treble thing—
prone to sing
and sometimes to sting
honeydew, honeydont
by
michael r. burch
I sampled honeysuckle
and it made my taste buds buckle!
Housman was right ...
by
Michael R. Burch
It's true that life’s not much to lose,
so why not hang out on a cloud?
It’s just the
bon voyage is hard
and the objections loud.
Long Division
by
Michael R. Burch
All things become one
Through death’s long division
And perfect precision.
Untitled
Hellen Keller saw more than the stellar-
visioned and the televisioned.
—Michael R. Burch
Irony lies
beyond the surmise
and surprise
of the blind and unwise.
—Michael R. Burch
Ring-a-Ling Bling
by
Michael R. Burch
The ring
thing
is mostly bling.
Determining an individual athlete's greatness by championship rings (i.e., team
success) makes no sense to me and seems disrespectful to all-time greats like
Ernie Banks, Charles Barkley, Elgin Baylor, Dick Butkus, Ty Cobb, Michelle Kwan,
Karl Malone, Dan Marino, Marta (who may be the greatest female soccer player of
all time), Barry Sanders, John Stockton, Fran Tarkenton and Ted Williams.
Perhaps the best example is the player most cited for rings these days: Michael
Jordan. In reality, Jordan didn't win a ring his first six years and was 0-6
against Larry Bird and the Celtics in the playoffs. Does that make Larry Bird
the NBA GOAT, or did he simply have better teammates? The answer seems obvious.
Jordan only began to win rings after he was joined by outstanding
players like Scottie Pippen, Horace Grant, et al. Thus individuals can be
all-time greats without having team success.
LESS HEROIC COUPLETS
Less Heroic Couplets: Murder Most Fowl!
by
Michael R. Burch
“Murder most foul!”
cried the mouse to the owl.
“Friend, I’m no sinner;
you’re merely my dinner.
As you fall on my sword,
Take it up wi
th the Lord!”
the wise owl replied
as the tasty snack died.
Please note that the wise old owl exonerated William Blake's tyger and placed
the blame where it is properly due, with the Creator of owls and tygers.
Less Heroic Couplets: Meal Deal
by
Michael R. Burch
Love is a splendid ideal
(at least till it costs us a meal).
Less Heroic Couplets: Civility
by
Michael R. Burch
Civility
is the ability
to disagree
agreeably.
Less Heroic Couplets: Sweet Tarts
by
Michael R. Burch
Love, beautiful but fatal to many bewildered hearts,
commands us to be faithful, then tempts us with sweets and tarts.
(If I were younger, I might mention
you’re such a temptation.)
NOTE: In an attempt to demonstrate that not all couplets are heroic, I have
created a series of poems called “Less Heroic Couplets.” I believe even poets
should abide by truth-in-advertising laws! — Michael R. Burch
Less Heroic Couplets: Marketing 101
by
Michael R. Burch
Building her brand, she disrobes,
naked, except for her earlobes.
Less Heroic Couplets: Miss Bliss
by
Michael R. Burch
Domestic “bliss”?
Best to swing and miss!
Less Heroic Couplets: Self-ish
by
Michael R. Burch
Let’s not pretend we “understand” other elves
As long as we remain mysteries to ourselves.
Less Heroic Couplets: Mate Check
by
Michael R. Burch
Love is an ache hearts willingly secure
then break the bank to cure.
Less Heroic Couplets: Word to the Unwise
by
Michael R. Burch
I wanted to be good as gold,
but being good, as I’ve been told,
requires something,
discipline,
I simply have no interest in!
Less Heroic Couplets: Questionable Credentials
by
Michael R. Burch
Poet? Critic?
Dilettante?
Do you know what’s good, or do you merely flaunt?
Published by
Asses of Parnassus (the first poem in the April 2017
issue)
Less Heroic Couplets: Shreditors
by
Michael R. Burch
Editors? Shreditors!
Those out-of-their-head-itors!
They offer—how dare they?—
to test, measure, weigh
my pluperfect ART!
When does PUBLICATION start?
Less Heroic Couplets: Rejection Slip
by
Michael R. Burch
pour Melissa Balmain
Whenever my writing gets rejected,
I always wonder how the rejecter got elected.
Are we exchanging at the same Bourse?
(Excepting present company, of course!)
I consider the term “rejection slip” to be a double entendre. When editors
reject my poems, did I slip up, or did they? Is their slip showing, or is mine?
Less Heroic Couplets: People From Porlock
by
Michael R. Burch
These people from Porlock are at it again—
I strive to create; they insist, “Be my friend!”
That last gabby vendor was a troublesome bloke—
thus my latest masterpiece just went up in smoke!
Less Heroic Couplets: Less than Impressed
by
Michael R. Burch
for T. M., regarding certain dispensers of hot lukewarm
stale air
Their volume’s impressive, it’s true ...
but somehow it all seems “much ado.”
Less Heroic Couplets: Dear Pleader
by
Michael R. Burch
aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Is our Dear Pleader, as he claims, heroic?
I prefer my presidents a bit more stoic.
Less Heroic Couplets: Then and Now
by
Michael R. Burch
BEFORE: Thanks to Brexit, our lives will be plush! ...
AFTER: Crap, we’re going broke! What the hell is the rush?
Less Heroic Couplets: Relative Masses
by
Michael R. Burch
Mr. Einstein was wrong about relative masses:
my kinfolk
lose E while
increasing their asses!
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry I
by
Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the heart’s caged rhythm,
the soul’s frantic tappings at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry II
by
Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the trapped soul’s frantic tappings
at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Seesaw
by
Michael R. Burch
A poem is the mind teetering between fact and fiction,
momentarily elevated.
Less Heroic Couplets: Passions
by
Michael R. Burch
Passions are the heart’s qualms, the soul’s squalls,
the brain’s storms.
Less Heroic Couplets: Gilded Silence
by
Michael R. Burch
Golden silence reigned supreme
in her
nightmare and my dream.
Less Heroic Couplets: Baseball Explained
by Michael R. Burch
Baseball’s immeasurable spittin’
mixed with occasional hittin’.
Flight
by
Michael R. Burch
It is the nature of loveliness to vanish
as butterfly wings, batting against nothingness
seek transcendence ...
Originally published by
Hibiscus (India)
Bed Head I
by
Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
“Early to bed, early to rise”
makes a man wish some men weren’t so wise
(or least had the
decency to tell pleasing lies).
Bed Head II
by
Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
“Early to bed, early to rise”
makes a man wish
wise old Ben told sweet lies.
Ars Brevis, Proofreading Longa
by
Michael R. Burch
Poets may labor from sun to sun,
but their editor's work is never done.
Arse Brevis, Emendacio Longa
by
Michael R. Burch
The Donald may tweet from sun to sun,
but his spellchecker’s work is never done.
Less Heroic Couplets: Clover
by Michael R. Burch
It’ll soon be over
(clover?)
Less Heroic Couplets: Attention Span Gap
by Michael R. Burch
Better not to live, than live too long:
The world prefers a brief poem, a short song.
Epigrams about Epigrams
When the words won’t tune,
prune!
— Michael R. Burch
Nod to the Master
by
Michael R. Burch
If every witty thing that’s said were true,
Oscar Wilde, the world would worship You!
Brief Fling I
by
Michael R. Burch
"Epigram"
means cram,
then scram.
Brief Fling II
by
Michael R. Burch
To write an epigram, cram.
If you lack wit, scram!
Brief Fling III
by
Michael R. Burch
No one gives a damn about my epigram?
And yet they’ll spend billions on Boy George and Wham!
Do they have
any idea just how hard I cram?
The Whole of Wit
by
Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
If brevity is the soul of wit
then brevity and levity
are the whole of it.
The Po' Biz Explained
by
Michael R. Burch
Poets may labor from sun to sun,
but their editors' work is never done.
The editor’s work is never done.
The critic adjusts his cummerbund.
While the critic adjusts his cummerbund,
the audience exits to mingle and slum.
As the audience exits to mingle and slum,
the anthologist rules, a pale jury of one.
This poem was written in response to the question: “What’s your favorite rhyme to rhyme?”
Time to Rhyme
by Michael R. Burch
Rhyme is a function of sound over time,
so I like to rhyme “time” with “rhyme.”
Parodies by Michael R. Burch
Me?
Whee!
(I stole this poem
From Muhammad Ali.)
—
Michael R. Burch
The poem above was written in response to the Quora question: “Can you write a poem titled
“Me”?
Fahr an' Ice
by
Michael R. Burch
From what I know of death, I'll side with those
who'd like to have a say in how it goes:
just make mine cool, cool rocks (twice drowned in likker),
and real fahr off, instead of quicker.
(Apologies to Robert Frost and Ogden Nash!)
Caveat Spender
by
Michael R. Burch
It’s better not to speculate
"continually" on who is great.
Though relentless awe’s
a Célèbre Cause,
please reserve some time for the contemplation
of the perils of
EXAGGERATION.
The Not-So-Heroic Stoic, or, A la Cartesian
i think,
therefore i question
if, who and what i am.
—michael r. burch
i think,
therefore i guess
who the hell i am
on this hellish quest.
—michael r. burch
i think,
therefore i postulate:
Fate
ain’t so great.
—michael r. burch
i think,
therefore i am
confused
and unenthused.
—michael r. burch
i think,
therefore i am
not a fan
of THE MAN.
—michael r. burch
i think,
therefore i am
puzzled
addled
frazzled
befuddled
—michael r. burch
i thunk
THEREFORE
i am sunk
...
like a frog
in a bog,
KERPLUNK!
—michael r. burch
The greatest philosophers are better known for their questions, doubts and
mistakes than for what they actually knew. Thus lesser thinkers may want to avoid
the hubris of certainty. — Michael R. Burch
Athenian Epitaphs
Passerby,
Tell the Spartans we lie
Lifeless at Thermopylae:
Dead at their word,
Obedient to their command.
Have they heard?
Do they understand?
—Michael R. Burch,
after Simonides
They observed our fearful fetters, marched against encroaching darkness.
Now we gratefully commemorate their excellence: Bravely, they died for us.
―Michael R. Burch, after Mnasalcas
Here he lies in state tonight: great is his Monument!
Yet Ares cares not, neither does War relent.
—Michael R. Burch,
after Anacreon
Mariner, do not ask whose tomb this may be,
But go with good fortune: I wish you a kinder sea.
—Michael R. Burch, after Plato
We who left behind the Aegean’s bellowings
Now sleep peacefully here on the mid-plains of Ecbatan:
Farewell, dear Athens, nigh to Euboea,
Farewell, dear sea!
—Michael R. Burch,
after Plato
Blame not the gale, nor the inhospitable sea-gulf, nor friends’ tardiness,
Mariner! Just man’s foolhardiness.
—Michael R. Burch, after Leonidas of Tarentum
Does my soul abide in heaven, or hell?
Only the sea gulls in their high, lonely circuits may tell.
—Michael R. Burch, after Glaucus
Since I'm dead sea-enclosed Cyzicus shrouds my bones.
Faretheewell, O my adoptive land that suckled me and reared me;
Once again
I take rest at your breast.
—Michael R. Burch, after Erycius
Stripped of her stripling, if asked, she’d confess:
“I am now less than nothingness.”
Michael R. Burch, after Diotimus
There are more Athenian Epitaphs later on this page.
Sappho, fragment 42
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Eros harrows my heart:
wild winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.
Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
May the gods prolong the night
—yes, let it last forever!—
as long as you sleep in my sight.
Sappho, fragment 155
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
A short transparent frock?
It's just my luck
your lips were made to mock!
Mnemosyne was stunned into astonishment when she heard honey-tongued Sappho,
wondering how mortal men merited a tenth Muse.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Sophocles Translations
One of the first great voices to directly question whether human being should give birth
was that of Sophocles, around 2,500 years ago ...
Not to have been born is best,
and blessed
beyond the ability of words to express.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
It’s a hundred times better not be born;
but if we cannot avoid the light,
the path of least harm is swiftly to return
to death’s eternal night!
—Sophocles,
Oedipus at Colonus, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
How happy the soul who speeds back to the Source,
but crowned with peace is the one who never came.
—a Sophoclean passage from the
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Never to be born may be the biggest boon of all.—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
Oblivion: What a boon, to lie unbound by pain!—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
The happiest life is one empty of thought.—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
Consider no man happy till he lies dead, free of pain at last.—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
What is worse than death? When death is desired but denied.—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
Children anchor their mothers to life.—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
How terrible, to see the truth when the truth brings only pain to the
seer!—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Wisdom outweighs all the world's wealth.—Sophocles, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Fortune never favors the faint-hearted.—Sophocles, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Wait for evening to appreciate the day's splendor.—Sophocles, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
We need evening to appreciate the day's attractions.—Sophocles, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Evening helps us appreciate the day's attractions.—Sophocles, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
When a man endures nothing but endless miseries, what is the use of hanging
on day after day, always edging closer and closer toward death? Anyone who warms
his heart with the false glow of flickering hope is a wretch! The noble man
should live with honor and die with honor. That's all that can be said.—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
According to Aristotle, it
had become so common in ancient Greece to say "It is best not to be born" that
it was considered a cliché!
Haiku and Tanka Translations
The butterfly
perfuming its wings
fans the orchid
― Matsuo
Basho, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael
R. Burch
Oh, fallen camellias,
if I were you,
I'd leap into the torrent!
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Our life here on earth:
to what shall we compare it?
It is not like a rowboat
departing at daybreak,
leaving no trace of us in its wake?
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Winter in the air:
my neighbor,
how does he fare?
― Matsuo
Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
One apple, alone
In the abandoned orchard
reddens for winter
― Patrick Blanche, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Come, investigate loneliness!
a solitary leaf
clings to the Kiri tree
― Matsuo
Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
A kite floats
at the same place in the sky
where yesterday it floated ...
― Buson Yosa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Let us arrange
these lovely flowers in the bowl
since there's no rice
― Matsuo
Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Grasses wilt:
the braking locomotive
grinds to a halt
― Yamaguchi Seishi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
An ancient pond,
the frog leaps:
the silver plop and gurgle of water
― Matsuo
Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Wild geese pass
leaving the emptiness of heaven
revealed
― Takaha Shugyo, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The first soft snow:
leaves of the awed jonquil
bow low
― Matsuo
Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Original Haiku by Michael R. Burch
Dark-bosomed clouds
pregnant with heavy thunder ...
the water breaks
—
Michael R. Burch
She bathes in silver,
afloat
on her reflections ...
—
Michael R. Burch
Night
and the stars
conspire against me
—
Michael R. Burch
The Unforgivable Sin: Rhyming Haiku by Michael R. Burch
Dry leaf flung awry:
bright butterfly,
goodbye!
—
Michael R. Burch
A snake in the grass
lies, hissing
Trespass!
—
Michael R. Burch
Honeysuckle
blesses my knuckle
with affectionate dew
—
Michael R. Burch
My nose nuzzles
honeysuckle’s
sweet nothings
—
Michael R. Burch
Late
fall
all
the golden leaves turn black underfoot:
soot
—
Michael R. Burch
My mother’s eyes
acknowledging my imperfection:
dejection
—
Michael R. Burch
Iffy Coronavirus Haiku
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #1
by michael r. burch
plagued by the Plague
i plague the goldfish
with my verse
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #2
by michael r. burch
sunflowers
hang their heads
embarrassed by their coronas
I wrote this poem after having a sunflower arrangement delivered to my mother,
who is in an assisted living center and can’t have visitors due to the
coronavirus pandemic. I have been informed the poem breaks haiku rules about
personification, etc.
homework: yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #3
by michael r. burch
dim bulb overhead,
my silent companion:
still imitating the noonday sun?
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #4
by michael r. burch
Spring fling—
children string flowers
into their face masks
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #5
by michael r. burch
the Thought counts:
our lips and fingers
insulated by plexiglass ...
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #6
by michael r. burch
masks, masks
everywhere
and not a straw to drink ...
Dark Cloud, Silver Lining
by
Michael R. Burch
Every corona has a silver lining:
I’m too far away to hear your whining,
and despite my stormy demeanor,
my hands have never been cleaner!
New World Order (last in a series and perhaps of a species)
by Michael R. Burch
The days of the dandelions dawn ...
soon man will be gone:
fertilizer.
Limericks
Ass-tronomical
by
Michael R. Burch
Einstein, the frizzy-haired,
proved E equals MC squared.
Thus all mass decreases
as activity ceases?
Not my mass, my ass declared!
Dot Spotted
by
Michael R. Burch
There once was a leopardess, Dot,
who indignantly answered: "I’ll not!
The gents are impressed
with the way that I’m dressed.
I wouldn’t change even one spot."
Tote the Note
by
Michael R. Burch
There once was a dromedary
who befriended a crafty canary.
Budgie said, "You can’t sing,
but now, here’s the thing—
just think of the tunes you can carry!"
Clyde Lied, or, Honeymoon Not-So-Sweet
by
Michael R. Burch
There once was a mockingbird, Clyde,
who bragged of his prowess, but lied.
To his new wife he sighed,
"When again, gentle bride?"
"Nevermore!" bright-eyed Raven replied.
The Trouble with Elephants: a Word to the Wise
by
Michael R. Burch
An elephant never forgets
which is why they don’t make the best pets:
Jumbo may well out-live you,
but he’ll never forgive you,
no matter how sincere your regrets!
The Better Man
by
Michael R. Burch
Dear Ed: I don’t understand why
you will publish this other guy—
when I’m brilliant, devoted,
one hell of a poet!
Yet you publish Anonymous. Fie!
Fie! A pox on your head if you favor
this poet who’s dubious, unsavor
y, inconsistent in texts,
no address (I checked!):
since he’s plagiarized Unknown, I’ll wager!
A much-needed screed against licentious insects
by Michael
R. Burch
after and apologies to Robert Schechter
Army ants? ARMY ants?
Yet so
undisciplined to
not wear pants?
How terribly rude
to wage war
in the nude!
We moralists call them
SMARMY ants!
Of Tetley's and V-2's
by
Michael R. Burch
The English are very hospitable,
but tea-less, alas, they grow pitiable ...
or pitiless, rather,
and quite in a lather!
O bother, they're more than formidable.
—"Of Tetley’s and V-2's," or, "Why Not to
Bomb the Brits" by
Michael R. Burch
Honeymoon Not-So-Sweet
by
Michael R. Burch
There once was a mockingbird, Clyde,
who bragged of his prowess, but lied.
To his new wife he sighed,
"When again, gentle bride?"
"Nevermore!" bright-eyed Raven replied.
Time In
by
Michael R. Burch
Hawking, who makes my head spin,
says time may flow backward. I grin,
imagining the surprise
in my mothers’ eyes
when I head for the womb once again!
Time Out
by
Michael R. Burch
Hawking’s "Brief History of Time"
is such a relief! How sublime
that time, in reverse,
may un-write this verse
and un-spend my last thin dime!
The Beat Goes On (and On and On and On ...)
by
Michael R. Burch
Bored stiff by his board-stiff attempts
at “meter,” I crossly concluded
I’d use each iamb
in lieu of a lamb,
bedtimes when I’m under-quaaluded.
Originally published by
Grand Little Things
Early Warning System (I)
by
Michael R. Burch
A hairy thick troglodyte, Mary,
squinched dingles excessively airy.
To her family’s deep shame,
their condo became
the first cave to employ a canary!
Early Warning System (II)
by Michael R. Burch
There once was a troglodyte, Mary,
whose poots were impressive, but
scary.
To her family’s deep shame,
their condo became
the first cave to employ a canary!
Low-T Hell
by
Michael
R. Burch
I’m living in low-T hell ...
My get-up has gone: Oh, swell!
I need to write checks
if I want to have sex,
and my love life depends on a gel!
Baked Alaskan
by
Michael R. Burch
There is a strange yokel so flirty
she makes whores seem icons of purity.
With all her winkin' and blinkin'
Palin seems to be "thinkin'"—
"Ah culd save th' free world 'cause ah'm purty!"
Going Rogue in Rouge
by
Michael R. Burch
It'll be hard to polish that apple
enough to make her seem palatable.
Though she's sweeter than Snapple
how can my mind grapple
with stupidity so nearly infallible?
Pls refudiate
by
Michael R. Burch
"Refudiate" this,
miffed, misunderstood Ms!—
Shakespeare, you're not
(more like Yoda, but hot).
Your grammar's atrocious;
Great Poets would know this.
You lack any plan
save to flatten Iran
like some cute Mini-Me
cloned from G. W. B.
Admit it, Ms. Palin!
Stop your winkin' and wailin'—
only "heroes" like Nero
fiddle sparks at Ground Zero.
Eerie Dearie
by
Michael R. Burch
A trembling young auditor, white
as a sheet, like a ghost in the night,
saw his dreams, his career
in a poof!, disappear,
and then, strangely Enronic, his wife.
NOTE:
Fortune named Enron "America's Most Innovative Company" for six
consecutive years, but the company went bankrupt and vanished after its
accounting practices were determined to be fraudulent.
The Church Gets the Burch Rod
If God
is good
half the Bible
is libel.
—Michael R. Burch
Life’s saving graces are love, pleasure, laughter ...
wisdom, it seems, is for the Hereafter.
—Michael R. Burch
I have my doubts about your God and his “love”:
If one screams below, what the hell is “Above”?
—Michael R. Burch
With the clumsy cobbling of the pagan Greek "hell" into the Bible, the prophets
were replaced by profits.—Michael R. Burch
I join Mark Twain in grokking the economic basis of Christian “salvation.”
My response to all infallible commandments of the infallible Bible, including
those to mass-murder babies and unborns in their mothers' wombs, is: "Praise the
LORD and pass the collection plate!" — Michael R. Burch
Believing in “gods” is neither here nor there; it’s what people believe
about “gods” that gets them in trouble. — Michael R. Burch
“God” is universally a blank, and when human beings speak for him, he becomes a
Tower of Babble. — Michael R. Burch
Why should anyone believe in a “god” who sends billions of human beings to an
infinitely cruel, purposeless “hell” for guessing wrong about which irrational
religion to believe? No decent deity would do such a cruel, inhumane,
senseless thing. — Michael R. Burch
Conformists of a feather
flock together.
—Michael R. Burch
Skeptics say the Bible is immoral but I disagree: If we always do the
opposite of what Jehovah did, we can lead exemplary lives full of kindness,
compassion and the pursuit of justice. — Michael R. Burch
Can we trust him? The biblical god wanted to keep curious Eve in an animal state
and murdered her for acquiring knowledge. — Michael R. Burch
God and his "profits" could never agree
on any gospel acceptable to an intelligent flea.
—Michael R. Burch
If God has the cattle on a thousand hills,
why does he
need my tithes to pay his bills?
—Michael R. Burch
since GOD created u so gullible
how did u conclude HE's so lovable?
—Michael R. Burch
Life is pointless, then you die.
Never ask the good LORD why.
His plan’s divine. You’re a mayfly.
—Michael R. Burch
The best tonic for other people's bad ideas is to think for oneself.—Michael R. Burch
Religion is the difficult process of choosing the least malevolent invisible friends.—Michael R. Burch
Most Christians make their God seem like the Devil. Atheists and agnostics at least
give him the "benefit of the doubt."—Michael R. Burch
If one screams below, what the hell is “Above”?—Michael R. Burch
Hell hath no fury like a hypocritical moralist out to control other people's
behavior.—Michael R. Burch
Religion is the dopiate of the sheeple.—Michael R. Burch
In three words, I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on.
—Robert
Frost
In six words, I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on, until
it doesn't.—Michael R. Burch
An ideal that cannot be realized is, in the end, just wishful thinking.—Michael
R. Burch
Hell hath no fury like a fundamentalist whose God condemned him for having "impure thoughts."—Michael R. Burch
The problem with bigots is that they know they're not bigots, just "better."—Michael R. Burch
I see the various church doctors as Dr. Frankensteins who couldn’t control the
monster they created.—Michael R. Burch
Biblical predestination and a Day of Judgment are incompatible. Does the
puppeteer judge his puppets?—Michael R. Burch
Is the answer to every mystery God’s magic wand?—Michael R. Burch
Why didn't God use his infallible crystal ball, then say, "Get behind me, Satan,
I know Job will remain faithful to me! There is no need to murder his children,
servants and livestock in your stupid, evil 'test'!"—Michael R. Burch
A global flood would have killed all earth’s fish. Ask any fisherman worth his
salt, pardon the pun.—Michael R. Burch
Freshwater fish cannot live in saltwater, and vice versa. During the early
stages of a global flood, as the rivers and lakes merged with the oceans, there
is massively more saltwater than fresh water and all the freshwater fish would
have died. But after the rains had fallen for 40 days and 40 nights and even the
highest mountains were covered by water (5.5 miles of additional water!), the
single sea would have become massively dilute and all the saltwater fish would
have died. After
the ark landed there would have
been no mature trees for years, and all the animals that depend on trees for
food and survival would have become extinct, including monkeys, apes, sloths,
koalas, squirrels, opossums and a wide variety of arboreal insects and birds.
The bible started out with multiple gods, headed by El, but then was clumsily
and shoddily redacted to make a minor god Yahweh, the “one and only” god.
However, the bible's editors botched the job in Job, pardon the pun.
In the Book of Job, we find Satan attending a council of the gods in heaven.
That means Satan is a god, not a “fallen angel” as Christians believe! Job is a
work of fiction that repudiates Christian theology. In this hellish book Satan
is not a “fallen angel” but one of the “sons of God” aka the
Elohim,
the 70 sons and daughters of the father god in Canaanite mythology. Satan
attends a council of the gods and has a conversation with the supreme god, who
is not Yahweh/Jehovah, but his father El. The diabolical El and Satan make an
evil wager, then casually murder Job’s children, servants and livestock. Job is
incredibly rich and had many servants, probably hundreds, so there are
multitudes of murders. Job repudiates Christian theology because the Christian
god can foresee the future and would have known that Job would remain faithful.
El should have said, “Get behind me Satan, because I know Job will remain
faithful to me!” But the gods of Job are evil, can’t foresee the future, and
there are 70 of them.
Elohim is a term that recurs throughout the
bible, as does the name El, but Christians fail to understand their meanings and
implications. If you want evidence that the Canaanite head god El was the
bible’s original supreme god, rather than Yahweh, consider how often “el”
appears in biblical names like Emmanuel (“God with us”), Israel (“Contends with
God”), Ezekiel (“strength of God”), Bethel (“house of god”) and the names of the
archangels Gabriel (“man of God”) and Michael (“Who is like God”). Jesus was
called Emmanuel and there are Christians who believe Jesus is the same being as
Michael, so there are
strong biblical link from El
to Jesus. But in any case, the god of Job was evil, not good, and was unable to
see the future. Satan was not a “fallen angel” but welcome in heaven.
THE EMBARRASSING INTOLERANCE OF THE CHRISTIAN GOD
I agree with Albert Camus that with its dogma of hell the Christian religion
lacks grace, and I would add that it also lacks decency, a sense of justice and
the ability to feel shame.—Michael R. Burch
Rhetorical Questions
Can a true religion be based on lies?—Michael R. Burch
How can the Bible be "infallible" when from beginning to end it commands and
condones but never condemns the satanic institution of slavery?—Michael R. Burch
Can a true religion be based on lies? How can the Bible be "the word of God" when it commands and/or condones the worst crimes known to humanity: slavery, sex slavery, infanticide,
matricide, ethnic cleansing, genocide, and the ghastly stoning to death of rape victims and child brides who didn't bleed sufficiently on their wedding nights to prove their virginity?—Michael R. Burch
The Hole-y Bible
The Bible's most inspired passage is 1 Corinthians 13, where the evangelist Paul says Divine Love never condemns, never gives up, and never fails. Unfortunately, all the mythical gods including
Jehovah fall far short of that lofty standard.—Michael R. Burch
Can a true religion be based on lies? The Bible says God can
never
be seen and has been seen
repeatedly; that it is a
shame for a
man to have long hair but that men consecrated to God like Samson and Samuel
never cut their hair; that God wanted men to be
monogamous but
also endorsed
sex slavery, that trees grew on earth before the
sun was created, and so on.—Michael R. Burch
The Christian Bible quickly evolved from an empty grave and a big
question “Mark” — pardon the pun — to outrageous claims of Jesus flying into the
clouds like Superman.—Michael R. Burch
The original gospel of Mark ended with a huge question mark. — Michael R. Burch
Oh, what treacherous webs they weave when "theologians" practice to deceive.
—Michael R. Burch
(The Hebrew prophets of the Old Testament never mentioned "hell," "purgatory" or
"limbo." These were the creation of deceitful Christian theologians: very good
for terrorizing people into converting and giving money to the theologians'
churches.)
The orthodox Christian religion is fundamentally dishonest, pardon the pun.
Christianity calls evil "good" when its diabolical god does evil things, such as
mass-murdering women and children, and either causing or allowing billions of
souls to be eternally tortured in a purposeless "hell" for guessing wrong about
which irrational religion to believe. Eternal torture for guessing wrong makes
the Christian "god" infinitely worse than
the Devil.—Michael R. Burch
Why I Left the Religious Right
by
Michael R. Burch
He's got Jesus's name on a wallet insert
and "Hell is for Queers" on the back of his shirt
and he upholds the Law,
for grace has a flaw:
the Church must have
someone to drag through the dirt.
The Least of These ...
What you
do
to
the refugee
you
do
unto
Me!
—Jesus Christ, translation/paraphrase by Michael R. Burch
Hell has been hellishly overdone!
Why blame such horrors on God's only Son
when Jehovah and his prophets
never mentioned it once?
—Michael R. Burch
(Bible scholars agree: the word "hell" has been removed from the Old Testaments
of the more accurate modern Bible translations. And the few New Testament verses
that mention "hell" are obvious mistranslations.)
Not Elves, Exactly
by
Michael R. Burch
Something there is that likes a wall,
that likes it spiked and likes it tall,
that likes its pikes’ sharp rows of teeth
and doesn’t mind its victims’ grief
(wherever they come from, far or wide)
as long as they fall on the
other side.
Why I Left the Religious Right
by
Michael R. Burch
He's got Jesus's name on a wallet insert
and "Hell is for Queers" on the back of his shirt
and he upholds the Law,
for grace has a flaw:
the Church must have
someone to drag through the dirt.
Double Cross
by
Michael R. Burch
Come to the cross;
contemplate all loss
and how little was gained
by those who remained
uncrucified.
Farewell to Faith I
by
Michael R. Burch
What we want is relief
from life’s grief and despair:
what we want’s not “belief”
but just not to be there.
Farewell to Faith II
by
Michael R. Burch
Confronted by the awesome thought of death,
to never suffer, and be free of grief,
we wonder:
What’s the use of drawing breath?
Why seek relief
from the bible’s Thief,
who ripped off Eve then offered her a leaf?
Certainly, saints, the world’s insane:
If I tell the truth they attack me,
f I lie they believe me.
—Kabir Das, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Keep the slanderer near you, build him a hut near your house.
For, when you lack soap and water, he will scour you clean.
—Kabir Das, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Without looking into our hearts,
how can we find Paradise?
—Kabir Das, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Clodhoppers and Hopers
by
Michael R. Burch
If you trust the Christian “god”
you’re—like Adumb—a clod.
Redefinitions
Faith: falling into the same old claptrap.—Michael R. Burch
Religion: the ties that blind.—Michael R. Burch
Lingerie: visual foreplay.—Michael R. Burch
Trickle down economics: an especially pungent golden shower.—Michael R. Burch
There are more redefinitions later on this page.
Poetic Definitions
Sex Hex
by
Michael R. Burch
after Richard Thomas Moore
Love’s full of cute paradoxes
(and highly acute poxes).
Love
by
Michael R. Burch
Love is either wholly folly,
or fully holy.
Death
by
Michael R. Burch
Death is the ultimate finality
and banality
of reality.
Epigrams for Poets and
Epigrams about Poets
Confetti for Ferlinghetti
by
Michael R. Burch
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
is the only poet whose name rhymes with “spaghetti”
and, while not being quite as rich as J. Paul Getty,
he still deserves some confetti
for selling a million books while being a modern Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
NOTE: Both Ferlinghetti and Rossetti were painter-poets.
US Verse, after Auden
by
Michael R. Burch
“Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.”
Verse has small value in our Unisphere,
nor is it fit for windy revelation.
It cannot legislate less taxing fears;
it cannot make us, several, a nation.
Enumerator of our sins and dreams,
it pens its cryptic numbers, and it sings,
a little quaintly, of the ways of love.
(It seems of little use for lesser things.)
NOTE: The Unisphere mentioned is a large stainless steel representation of the
earth; it was commissioned to celebrate the beginning of the space age for the
1964 New York World's Fair.
Why the Kid Gloves Came Off
by
Michael R. Burch
for Lemuel Ibbotson
It's hard to be a man of taste
in such a waste:
hence the lambaste.
Fahr an' Ice
by
Michael R. Burch
for and after Robert Frost and Ogden Nash
From what I know of death, I'll side with those
who'd like to have a say in how it goes:
just make mine cool, cool rocks (twice drowned in likker),
and real fahr off, instead of quicker.
Housman was right ...
by
Michael R. Burch
It's true that life’s not much to lose,
so why not hang out on a cloud?
It’s just the
bon voyage is hard
and the objections loud.
Long Division
by
Michael R. Burch
for and after Laura Riding Jackson
All things become one
Through death’s long division
And perfect precision.
Bittersight
by
Michael R. Burch
for Abu al-Ala Al-Ma'arri
To be plagued with sight
in the Land of the Blind,
—to know birth is death
and that Death is kind—
is to be flogged like Eve
(stripped, sentenced and fined)
because evil is “good”
as some “god” has defined.
A Passing Observation about Thinking Outside the Box
by
Michael R. Burch
William Blake had no public, and yet he’s still read.
His critics are dead.
The Difference
by
Michael R. Burch
The chimneysweeps
will weep
for Blake,
who wrote his poems
for their dear sake.
The critics clap,
polite, for you.
Another poem
for poets,
Whooo!
Blake Take
by
Michael R. Burch
we became ashamed of our bodies;
we became ashamed of sweet sex;
we became ashamed of the LORD
with each terrible CURSE and HEX;
we became ashamed of the planet
(it’s such a
slovenly hovel);
and we came to see, in the end,
that we really agreed with the devil.
tyger, lamb, free love, etc.
by
michael r. burch
for and after william blake
the tiger’s a ferocious slayer.
he has no say in it.
hence, ur Creator’s a shit.
the lamb led to the slaughter
extends her neck to the block and bit.
she has no say in it.
so don’t be a nitwit:
drink, carouse and revel!
why obey the Devil?
Professor Poets
by Michael R. Burch
Professor poets remind me of drones
chasing the Classical queen's aging bones.
With bottle-thick glasses they still see to write —
droning on, endlessly buzzing all night.
And still in our classrooms their tomes are decreed ...
Perhaps they're too busy with buzzing to breed?
Miscellanea
Fascists of a feather
flock together.
—Michael R. Burch
Love has the value
of gold, if it’s true;
if not, of rue.
—Michael R. Burch
What would Mother Teresa do?
Do it too!
—Michael R. Burch
Delicacy
by
Michael R. Burch
Your love is as delicate
as a butterfly cleaning its wings,
as soft as the predicate the hummingbird sings
to itself, gently murmuring—
“Fly! Fly! Fly!”
Your love is the string
soaring kites untie.
Medusa
by
Michael R. Burch
Friends, beware
of her iniquitous hair—
long, ravenblack & melancholy.
Many suitors drowned there—
lost, unaware
of the length & extent of their folly.
The Greatest of These ...
by
Michael R. Burch
The hands that held me tremble.
The arms that lifted
fall.
Angelic flesh, now parchment,
is held together with gauze.
But her undimmed eyes still embrace me;
there infinity can be found.
I can almost believe such love
will reach me, underground.
Sumer is icumen in
a modern English translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Sumer is icumen in
Lhude sing achu!
Groweth sed
And bloweth hed
And buyeth med?
Cuccu!
Piecemeal
by
Michael R. Burch
And so it begins—the ending.
The narrowing veins, the soft tissues rending.
Your final solution is pending.
(A pale Piggy-Wiggy
will discount your demise as no biggie.)
Lance-Lot
by
Michael R. Burch
Preposterous bird!
Inelegant! Absurd!
Until the great & mighty heron
brandishes his fearsome sword.
Playmates
by
Michael R. Burch
When you were my playmate and I was yours,
we spent endless hours with simple toys,
and the sorrows and cares of our indentured days
were uncomprehended . . . far, far away . . .
for the temptations and trials we had yet to face
were lost in the shadows of an unventured maze.
These are the opening lines of the second poem I remember writing, around age 13 or 14.
MICHELANGELO TRANSLATIONS
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni (1475-1564) was an Italian sculptor,
painter, architect and poet. He and his fellow Florentine, Leonardo da Vinci,
were rivals for the title of the archetypal Renaissance man. Michelangelo is
considered by many to be the greatest artist of all time.
I saw the angel in the marble and freed him.—Michelangelo, translation by
Michael R. Burch
I hewed away the coarse walls imprisoning the lovely apparition.—Michelangelo,
translation by Michael R. Burch
Each stone contains a statue; it is the sculptor's task to release
it.—Michelangelo, translation by Michael R. Burch
In the end it’s only the best poems that matter. But the best poems come from
executing everything as close to perfection as possible. Michelangelo had to
make every stroke of the chisel work — as close to perfection as possible — for
the angel to emerge from the marble. Talent had to be abetted by craftsmanship.
— Michael R. Burch
Poetry, like every art, requires both artistry and craftsmanship. Michelangelo
the artist saw the angel in the marble. Michelangelo the craftsman had to get
every detail correct in order for the angel to emerge.— Michael R. Burch
The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and hitting
the mark.—Michelangelo, translation by Michael R. Burch
AIM HIGH
The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and
hitting the mark.—Michelangelo
If we shoot for the stars
to only end up on Mars,
that's still quite a trip.
The choice is ours.
—Michael R. Burch
Our greatness is bounded only by our horizons.—Michelangelo, translation by
Michael R. Burch
Trifles create perfection, yet perfection is no trifle.—Michelangelo,
translation by Michael R. Burch
Genius is infinitely patient, and infinitely painstaking.—Michelangelo,
translation by Michael R. Burch
If you knew how hard I worked, you wouldn't call it "genius."—Michelangelo,
translation by Michael R. Burch
Be at peace, for God did not create us to abandon us.—Michelangelo, translation
by Michael R. Burch
I live and love by God's peculiar light.—Michelangelo, translation by Michael R.
Burch
My soul's staircase to heaven is earth's loveliness.—Michelangelo, translation
by Michael R. Burch
God grant that I always desire more than my capabilities.—Michelangelo,
translation by Michael R. Burch
I have never found salvation in nature; rather I love cities.—Michelangelo,
translation by Michael R. Burch
He who follows will never surpass.—Michelangelo, translation by Michael R. Burch
Beauty is what lies beneath superfluities.—Michelangelo, translation by Michael
R. Burch
I criticize via creation, not by fault-finding.—Michelangelo, translation by
Michael R. Burch
Rumi Translations
Birdsong
by Rumi
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Birdsong relieves
my deepest griefs:
now I'm just as ecstatic as they,
but with nothing to say!
Please universe,
rehearse
your poetry
through me!
Beyond
by Rumi
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Don’t demand union:
there’s a closer closeness, beyond.
The instant love descends to rest in me,
many beings become One.
In a single grain of wheat ten thousand sheaves germinate.
Within the needle’s eye innumerable stars radiate.
The Field
by Rumi
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Far beyond sermons of right and wrong there’s a sunlit field.
I'll meet you there.
When the soul lazes in such lush grass
the world is too full for discussion.
Two Insomnias (I)
by Rumi
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
When I’m with you, we’re up all night;
when we're apart, I’m unable to sleep.
Thank God for both insomnias
and their inspiration.
Two Insomnias (II)
by Rumi
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
When I’m with you, we’re up all night.
When we part, I’m unable to sleep.
I’m grateful for both insomnias
and the difference maker.
I choose to love you in silence
by Rumi
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
I choose to love you in silence
where there is no rejection;
to possess you in loneliness
where you are mine alone;
to adore you from a distance
which diminishes pain;
to kiss you in the wind
stealthier than my lips;
to embrace you in my dreams
where you are limitless ...
I Prefer
by Rumi
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
I prefer to love you in silence,
for in silence there is no rejection.
I prefer to possess you in loneliness,
for in loneliness you are mine alone.
I prefer to adore you from a distance,
because distance diminishes pain.
I prefer to kiss you in the wind,
because the wind is subtler than my lips.
I prefer to embrace you in my dreams,
because in my dreams you are limitless.
Untitled Rumi Epigrams
I am not this hair,
nor this thin sheathe of skin;
I am the Soul that abides within.
—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
We come whirling from nothingness, scattering stardust.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Why should I brood, with every petal of my being blossoming?—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Why should I brood when every petal of my being is blossoming?—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Elevate your words, not their volume. Rain grows flowers, not thunder.—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Bare rock is barren. Be compost, so wildflowers spring up everywhere.—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I want to sing as the birds sing, heedless of who hears or heckles.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Your heart’s candle is ready to be kindled.
Your soul’s void is waiting to be filled.
You can feel it, can’t you?
—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Your heart’s an immense ocean. Go discover yourself in its depths.—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The only prevailing beauty is the heart’s.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
This is love: to fly toward a mysterious sky,
to cause ten thousand veils to fall.
First, to stop clinging to life,
then to step out, without feet ...
—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
What you seek also pursues you.—Rumi, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Love renders reason senseless.—Rumi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Love is the bridge between your Heart and Infinity.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Your task is not to build love, but to bring down all the barriers you built
against it.—Rumi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Let yourself be guided by the strange magnetism of what you truly love:
It will not lead you astray.
The lion is most majestic when stalking prey.
—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
The moon shines most bright
when it embraces the night.
—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
The moon shines brightest
when the night is darkest.
—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
The moon is brightest when it embraces the night.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
If your heart is light, it will light your way home.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Are you still in the dark that your light lights the worlds?—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Why do you remain prisoner when the door's ajar?—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Why do you remain prisoner when the door's wide open?—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
As you begin to follow the Way, the Way appears.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Come, come, fellow traveler. Wanderer, worshiper, itinerant: it makes no
difference. Ours is no caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken ten
thousand vows. Come yet again, come, come.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Forget security!
Live by the perilous sea.
Destroy your reputation, however glorious.
Become notorious.
—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Don’t be satisfied with stories of others’ accomplishments. Create your own
legend.—Rumi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I was so drunk my lips got lost requesting a kiss.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Eyes identify love. Feet pursue.—Rumi, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Everything beautiful was made for the beholder.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The essence of the rose abides not in the perfume but the thorns.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Ignite yourself, then seek those able to fan your flames.—Rumi, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
When will you begin the long trek toward reconciliation with yourself?—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
There is eloquence in silence. Stop weaving and the pattern is perfected.—Rumi,
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The universe lies within you, not without. Look within: everything you desire,
you already are.—Rumi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You must understand
“one” and “two”
because one and one make two.
But you
must also understand
“and.”
—Rumi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Martial Translations
You ask me why I've sent you no new verses?
There might be reverses.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You ask me to recite my poems to you?
I know how you'll "recite" them, if I do.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You ask me why I choose to live elsewhere?
You're not there.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You ask me why I love fresh country air?
You're not befouling it there.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You ask me why I love fresh country air?
You're not befouling it, mon frère.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
1.
You’ll find good poems, but mostly poor and worse,
my peers being “diverse” in their verse.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
2.
Some good poems here, but most not worth a curse:
such is the crapshoot of a book of verse.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mala plura
quae legis hic: aliter non fit, Auite, liber.
He undertook to be a doctor
but turned out to be an undertaker.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Chirurgus fuerat, nunc est uispillo Diaulus:
coepit quo poterat clinicus esse modo.
1.
The book you recite from, Fidentinus,
was my own,
till your butchering made it
yours alone.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
2.
The book you recite from I once called my own,
but you read it so badly, it’s now yours alone.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
3.
You read my book as if you wrote it,
but you read it so badly I’ve come to hate it.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Recite my epigrams? I decline,
for then they’d be yours, not mine.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
I do not love you, but cannot say why.
I do not love you: no reason, no lie.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You’re young and lovely, wealthy too,
but that changes nothing: you're a shrew.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You never wrote a poem,
yet criticize mine?
Stop abusing me or write something fine
of your own!
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
He starts everything but finishes nothing;
thus I suspect there's no end to his fucking.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You dine in great magnificence
while offering guests a pittance.
Sextus, did you invite
friends to dinner tonight
to impress us with your enormous appetite?
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You alone own prime land, dandy!
Gold, money, the finest porcelain—you alone!
The best wines of the most famous vintages—you alone!
Discrimination, taste and wit—you alone!
You have it all—who can deny that you alone are set for life?
But everyone has had your wife—
she is never alone!
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Epitaph for the child Erotion
Lie lightly on her, grass and dew ...
So little weight she placed on you.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
I must admit I'm partial
to Martial.
—Michael R. Burch
Pablo Neruda Translations
You can crop all the flowers but you cannot detain spring.
—Pablo Neruda, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Every Day You Play (Excerpt)
by Pablo Neruda
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Every day you play with Infinity’s rays.
Exquisite visitor, you arrive with the flowers and the water!
You are vastly more than this immaculate head I clasp lovingly
like a cornucopia, every day, with ecstatic hands ...
As if you were set on fire from within,
the moon whitens your skin.
—Pablo Neruda, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The Book of Questions
by Pablo Neruda
loose
translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Is the rose nude
or is that just how she dresses?
Why do trees conceal
their spectacular roots?
Who hears the confession
of the getaway car?
Is there anything sadder
than a train standing motionless in the rain?
Please understand that when I awaken weeping
it's because I dreamed I was a lost child
searching the leaf-heaps for your hands in the darkness.
—Pablo Neruda, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Love Sonnet XI
by Pablo Neruda
loose
translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
I stalk the streets, silent and starving.
Bread does not satisfy me; dawn does not divert me
from my relentless pursuit of your fluid spoor.
While nothing can save us from death,
still love can redeem each breath.
—Pablo Neruda, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Love Sonnet XVII
by Pablo Neruda
loose
translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
I do not love you like coral or topaz,
or the blazing hearth’s incandescent white flame;
I love you like phantoms embraced in the dark ...
secretly, in shadows, unrevealed & unnamed.
I'm no longer in love with her, that's certain ...
yet perhaps I love her still.
Love is so short, forgetting so long!
—Pablo Neruda, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Tonight I will write the saddest lines
by Pablo Neruda
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Tonight I will write the saddest lines.
I will write, for example, “The night is less bright
and a few stars shiver in the distance
as I remember her unwarranted light ...”
Leonardo da Vinci Translations
Once we have flown, we will forever walk the earth with our eyes turned
heavenward, for there we were and will always long to return.—Leonardo da Vinci,
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The great achievers rarely relaxed and let things happen to them. They set
out and kick-started whatever happened.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Nothing enables authority like silence.—Leonardo da Vinci, translation by
Michael R. Burch
The greatest deceptions spring from men’s own opinions.—Leonardo da Vinci,
translation by Michael R. Burch
There are three classes of people: Those who see by themselves. Those who see
only when they are shown. Those who refuse to see.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Blinding ignorance misleads us. Myopic mortals, open your eyes!—Leonardo da
Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
It is easier to oppose evil from the beginning than at the end.—Leonardo da
Vinci, translation by Michael R. Burch
Small minds continue to shrink, but those whose hearts are firm and whose
consciences endorse their conduct, will persevere until death.—Leonardo da
Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I am impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowledge is not enough; we must
apply ourselves. Wanting and being willing are insufficient; we must
act.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Time is sufficient for anyone who uses it wisely.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Where the spirit does not aid and abet the hand there is no art.—Leonardo da
Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Necessity is the mistress of mother nature's inventions.—Leonardo da Vinci, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Nature has no effect without cause, no invention without necessity.—Leonardo
da Vinci, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Did Leonardo da Vinci anticipate Darwin with his comments about Nature and
necessity being the mistress of her inventions? Yes, and his studies of
comparative anatomy, including the intestines, led da Vinci to say explicitly
that "apes, monkeys and the like" are not merely related to humans but are
"almost of the same species." He was, indeed, a man ahead of his time, by at
least 350 years.
Excerpts from “Paragone of Poetry and Painting” and Other Writings
by Leonardo da Vinci, circa 1500
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Sculpture requires light, received from above,
while a painting contains its own light and shade.
Painting is the more beautiful, the more imaginative, the more copious,
while sculpture is merely the more durable.
Painting encompasses infinite possibilities
which sculpture cannot command.
But you, O Painter, unless you can make your figures move,
are like an orator who can’t bring his words to life!
While as soon as the Poet abandons nature, he ceases to resemble the Painter;
for if the Poet abandons the natural figure for flowery and flattering speech,
he becomes an orator and is thus neither Poet nor Painter.
Painting is poetry seen but not heard,
while poetry is painting heard but not seen.
And if the Poet calls painting dumb poetry,
the Painter may call poetry blind painting.
Yet poor is the pupil who fails to surpass his master!
Shun those studies in which the work dies with the worker.
Because I find no subject especially useful or pleasing
and because those who preceded me appropriated every useful theme,
I will be like the beggar who comes late to the fair,
who must content himself with other buyers' rejects.
Thus, I will load my humble cart full of despised and rejected merchandise,
the refuse of so many other buyers,
and I will go about distributing it, not in the great cities,
but in the poorer towns,
selling at discounts whatever the wares I offer may be worth.
And what can I do when a woman plucks my heart?
Alas, how she plays me, and yet I must persist!
The Point
by Leonardo da Vinci
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Here forms, colors, the character of the entire universe, contract to a
point,
and that point is miraculous, marvelous …
O marvelous, O miraculous, O stupendous Necessity!
By your elegant laws you compel every effect to be the direct result of its
cause,
by the shortest path possible.
Such are your miracles!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller Translations
#2 - Love Poetry
She says an epigram’s too terse
to reveal her tender heart in verse ...
but really, darling, ain’t the thrill
of a kiss much shorter still?
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#5 - Criticism
Why don’t I openly criticize the man? Because he’s a friend;
thus I reproach him in silence, as I do my own heart.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#11 - Holiness
What is holiest? This heart-felt love
binding spirits together, now and forever.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#12 - Love versus Desire
You love what you have, and desire what you lack
because a rich nature expands, while a poor one retracts.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#19 - Nymph and Satyr
As shy as the trembling doe your horn frightens from the woods,
she flees the huntsman, fainting, uncertain of love.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#20 - Desire
What stirs the virgin’s heaving breasts to sighs?
What causes your bold gaze to brim with tears?
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#23 - The Apex I
Everywhere women yield to men, but only at the apex
do the manliest men surrender to femininity.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#24 - The Apex II
What do we mean by the highest? The crystalline clarity of triumph
as it shines from the brow of a woman, from the brow of a goddess.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#25 -Human Life
Young sailors brave the sea beneath ten thousand sails
while old men drift ashore on any bark that avails.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#35 - Dead Ahead
What’s the hardest thing of all to do?
To see clearly with your own eyes what’s ahead of you.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#36 - Unexpected Consequence
Friends, before you utter the deepest, starkest truth, please pause,
because straight away people will blame you for its cause.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
#41 - Earth vs. Heaven
By doing good, you nurture humanity;
but by creating beauty, you scatter the seeds of divinity.
―from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Euripides Translations
• Love distills the eyes’ desires, love bewitches the heart with its
grace.—Euripides, translation by Michael R.
Burch
• Fools call wisdom foolishness.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
• One true friend is worth ten thousand kin.—Euripides, translation by
Michael R. Burch
• Not to speak one’s mind is slavery.—Euripides, translation by Michael R.
Burch
• I would rather die standing than kneel, a slave.—Euripides, translation by
Michael R. Burch
• Fresh tears are wasted on old griefs.—Euripides, translation by Michael R.
Burch
Euripides was pretty good, wasn't he? I try to translate him in as few words as
possible, hoping to stay out of his way.—Michael R. Burch
Bertolt Brecht Translations
Everyone chases the way happiness feels,
unaware how it nips at their heels.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
The world of learning takes a crazy turn
when
teachers are taught to think and discern!
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Unhappy, the land that lacks heroes.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Hungry man, reach for the book:
it's a hook,
a harpoon.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Because things are the way they are,
things can never stay as they were.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
War is like love; true ...
it finds a way through.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
What happens to the hole
when the cheese is no longer whole?
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
It's easier to rob by setting up a bank
than by threatening the poor clerk.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Do not fear death so much, or strife,
but rather fear the inadequate life.
—Bertolt Brecht, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Dante Translations
Little sparks may ignite great Infernos.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
She made my veins and even the pulses within them tremble.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Love commands me by determining my desires.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
In Beatrice I beheld the outer boundaries of blessedness.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Her sweetness left me intoxicated.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Follow your own path and let the bystanders gossip.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
The devil is not as dark as depicted.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
There is no greater sorrow than to recall how we delighted in our own wretchedness.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
As he, who with heaving lungs escaped the suffocating sea, turns to regard
its perilous waters.—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R.
Burch
O human race, born to soar heavenward, why do you quail at the least breath of wind?—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
O human race, born to soar heavenward, why do you nosedive in the
mildest breeze?—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by Michael
R. Burch
Midway through my life’s journey
I awoke to find myself lost in a trackless wood,
for I had strayed far from the straight path.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
INSCRIPTION ON THE GATE OF HELL
Before me nothing created existed, to fear.
Eternal I am, and eternal I endure.
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
—Dante, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
More Dante
Translations by Michael R. Burch
Paraphrases
What you
do
to
the refugee
you
do
unto
Me!
—Jesus Christ, translation/paraphrase by Michael R. Burch
Miscellanea
Critical Mass
by
Michael R. Burch
I have listened to the rain all this evening
and it has a certain gravity,
as if it knows its destination,
perhaps even its particular destiny.
I do not believe mine is to be uplifted,
although I, too, may be flung precipitously
and from a great height.
"Gravity" and "particular destiny" are puns, since rain droplets are seeded by
minute particles of dust adrift in the atmosphere and they fall due to gravity
when they reach "critical mass." The title is also a pun, since the poem is
skeptical about heaven-lauding Masses, etc.
Reading between the lines
by
Michael R. Burch
Who could have read so much, as we?
Having the time, but not the inclination,
TV has become our philosophy,
sheer boredom, our recreation.
One-Liners and other Jokes
If the US consulted a competent headshrinker, it might boil down to nothing more than hot air and delusions.—Michael R. Burch
Thanks to politicians like George W. Bush, Sarah Palin and Donald Trump, we now have a
duh-mock-racy.—Michael R. Burch
Teddy Roosevelt spoke softly and carried a big stick; Donald Trump speaks loudly and carries a big shtick.—Michael R. Burch
Trump is an idol with feet of clay, or, more probably, glitter. — Michael
R. Burch
I call Trump the MESSiah, since MAGA seems doomed to wander 40 years in the
wilderness, in fruitless pursuit of its lily-white Promised Land. — Michael R.
Burch
For once I agree with MAGA. They want to rename Dulles Airport after Trump. I
concur about the currish con: let’s call
it Dull Ass Airport. — Michael R. Burch
Trump has no more use for democracy than Al Capone had for law and order. — Michael R.
Burch
Trump is a career criminal who epitomizes the American dream that anyone —
literally anyone — can become president. — Michael R. Burch
Under Trump American democracy is going the way of the dodo. — Michael R.
Burch
I call the GOP under Trump the "rise and fall of the third retch" and I'm a former Reagan Republican. —
Michael R. Burch
Trump is the American Gaffe Spree and also the American Graft Spree. —
Michael R. Burch
Trump is a walking, talking Kinsley Gaffe. — Michael R. Burch
No, make that a stumbling, mumbling Kinsley Gaffe. — Michael R. Burch
The truth always comes out in the end. Trump wears Depends. — Michael R.
Burch
Trump will shill no whine before its time, but then it’s always time to whine
according to Trump. — Michael R. Burch
Trump shits on the Constitution, the handicapped, women, minorities, POWs and
wounded veterans. But now, shitwrecked by the laughter of the gods, it turns out
that Trump shits himself, literally. "Diaper Don" is not just a nickname, it's
reality. — Michael R.
Burch
One can smell the stench of Trump’s diaper through the ether. And the odor
cloys and lingers like 'skairt skunk.' — Michael R. Burch
The GOP has become a confectionery where conspiracy theories are baked, then
sold to the half-baked. — Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
If you believe Don's cons you must be using Giggle rather than Google. —
Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
These days Trump's fraudian slip is always showing. — Michael R. Burch
Kamala Harris versus Donald Trump is hope versus hopeless, decency versus
indecency, democracy versus dick-tater-ship. — Michael R. Burch
We need to end Trumpism as a political force and farce. — Michael R. Burch
Donald Trump said: “I came; I saw; I bunkered.”
Don the Con put the “con” in “conservative.” — Michael R. Burch
Trump put the “nut” in peanut gallery. — Michael R. Burch
tRUMP is the butt of many jokes. — Michael R. Burch
Hell hath no Fury like our furry Führer. — Michael R. Burch
Ron DeSantis is tRUMP LITE. He's just as big an ass, just as evil, just
as loony, but has a cult of one. — Michael R. Burch
After watching Ron DeSantis try to "smile" one feels the need for a
shower. A very long, hot, cleansing shower. — Michael R. Burch
Will the Bar Association bill and bar Bill Barr? Will
Trump then declare Colludy Rudy Giuliani his new Detourney General? —
Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
After Bill Barr is disbarred, will he end up behind barrs, or will he find
employment as Trump's personal barrtender and anal barrometer? —
Michael R. Burch aka "The
Loyal Opposition"
How can we predict the future when tomorrow is as uncertain as Trump’s next tweet? — Michael
R. Burch
Sarah Palin is truly unique: she alone can make us appreciate Dubya's vastly superior intellect. — Michael R. Burch
I believe God is using Michelle Bachmann to conclusively prove that human
beings did
not evolve. — Michael R. Burch
Mitt Romney could suck the joy out of a lucky Irish rainbow, and the pot of gold at the end. — Michael R. Burch
Floriduh is the perfect state of residence for Trump. After all, Trump is
florid in both face and speech, and he favors duh-mock-racey as his political
system. Also, thanks to the warm Florida sun, the Great Trumpkin can now save
tons of money on that ghastly orange pancake makeup. ― Michael R. Burch aka
"The Loyal Opposition"
Now that he's relocated Donald Trump should run for governor of Florida. After
all, he was voted "most likely to secede." — Michael R. Burch
If Minnesota were to secede from the United States, they would become
Minnie-sota. — Michael R. Burch
If Texas were to secede from the United States, they would become Tax-us. —
Michael R. Burch
If Mississippi were to secede from the United States, they would hardly be
missed. — Michael R. Burch
Ted Cruz will launch his new Texas senatorial campaign to the strains of
Coldplay's, "When you try your best but you don't secede." — Michael R.
Burch
The enemy is not without, but within our gates; it is with our own
complacence, our own folly, our own cutthroats and criminals that we must
contend. —
Cicero, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Trump is the American Nero. Trump, like Nero, set his capitol city aflame,
then fiddled as his countrymen died. However, at least Nero played an actual fiddle, while Trump
merely fiddled with his TV remote. —
Michael R. Burch
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch
Apologies to España
by Michael R. Burch
The reign
in Trump’s brain
falls mainly as mansplain.
Adam’s Rib vs. Women’s Lib
by Michael R. Burch
We hold these truths to be self-evident,
that all women were created sequel ...
That tRUMP’s a liar is obvious
to all but the oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
tRUMP should work for tASS:
they both kiss Putin’s ass.
—Michael R. Burch
Two-Liners
Fierce ancient skalds summoned verse from their guts;
today’s genteel poets prefer modern ruts.
—
Michael R. Burch
Q:
What do you call it when a Man-Baby takes over the American government?
A: Coup d'Tot.
—
Michael R. Burch
Love should be more than the sum of its parts—
of its potions and pills and subterranean arts.
—
Michael R. Burch
I sampled honeysuckle
and it made my taste buds buckle.
—
Michael R. Burch
Three-Liners and Four-Liners
There’s no need to rant about Al-Qaeda and ISIS.
The cruelty of “civilization” suffices:
our ordinary vices.
—
Michael R. Burch
To be or not to be?
In the end Hamlet
opted for naught.
—
Michael R. Burch
Fleet Tweet: Apologies to Shakespeare
by
Michael R. Burch
a tweet
by any other name
would be as fleet!
—
@mikerburch
Fleet Tweet II: Further Apologies to Shakespeare
by
Michael R. Burch
Remember, doggonit,
heroic verse crowns the Shakespearean sonnet!
So if you intend to write a couplet,
please do it on the doublet!
—
@mikerburch
The Complete Redefinitions
Faith: falling into the same old claptrap.—Michael R. Burch
Religion: the ties that blind.—Michael R. Burch
Lingerie: visual foreplay.—Michael R. Burch
Salvation: falling for allure—hook, line and stinker.—Michael R. Burch
Trickle down economics: an especially pungent golden shower.—Michael R. Burch
Canned political applause: clap track for the claptrap.—Michael R. Burch
A straight flush is a winning hand. A straight-faced flush is when you don't
give it away.—Michael R. Burch
Lust: a chemical affair.—Michael R. Burch
Believer: A speck of dust / animated by lust / brief as a mayfly / and yet
full of trust.—Michael R. Burch
Theologian: someone who wants life to “make sense” / by believing in a “god”
infinitely dense.—Michael R. Burch
Skepticism: The murderer of Eve / cannot be believed.—Michael R. Burch
Death: This dream of nothingness we fear / is salvation clear.—Michael R. Burch
Insuresurrection: The dead are always with us, and yet they are naught!—Michael R. Burch
Marriage: a seldom-observed truce / during wars over money / and a red-faced
papoose.—Michael R. Burch
Is “natural affection” affliction? / Is “love” nature’s
sleight-of-hand trick / to get us to reproduce / whenever
she feels the
itch?—Michael R. Burch
Puns and Wordplay
A tweet by any other name would be as fleet.—Michael R. Burch
"Epigram" means cram, then scram.—Michael
R. Burch
The expanding pop-u-’lation explains the rise of false celebrity. — Michael
R. Burch
For artists success can be a collection of artfully-dodged problems.—Michael
R. Burch
Donald Trump is a chip off the old blockhead. — Michael R. Burch
Trump is a grift from God. — Michael R. Burch
More Prose Epigrams
Once fanaticism has gangrened brains the malady is usually incurable.—Voltaire, translation by Michael R. Burch
Unsurprisingly, narrow minds have trouble grasping larger subjects.—Michael R. Burch
Gods don’t have to make sense and seldom do. — Michael R. Burch
Never argue with the Muses when they're in generous moods! — Michael R. Burch
We can't change the past, but we can learn from it.—Michael R. Burch
We can't rewrite the past, but we can read and learn from it.—Michael R. Burch
Intolerance is unsuccessful because one cannot argue successfully against success.—Michael R. Burch
Justice may be blind, but does she have to be deaf too?—Michael R. Burch
There’s nothing wrong with being wronged and wanting to be proven right.—Michael
R. Burch
I'm an optimist until everything goes wrong, then I'm just miffed. —
Michael R. Burch
Wayne Gretzky was pure skill poured into skates.—Michael R. Burch
Joe Montana was Joe Cool, but he was also Joe Clutch.— Michael R. Burch
The Big Dipper’s “dips” were better than most centers’ peaks. — Michael R.
Burch
One man's coronation is another man's consternation.—Michael R.
Burch
Neither the leaf nor the tree laments karma.—Michael R. Burch
The best time to plant a tree was in your youth. The second best time is now.
— Chinese Proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Old age, believe me, is a blessing. While it’s true you get gently shouldered
off the stage, you’re awarded such a comfortable front row seat as spectator. —
Confucius, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
As a general rule of thumb, ignore naysayers unless you agree with their criticism.—Michael R. Burch
Skill is the product of aptitude, application and experience.—Michael R. Burch
A good timeline brings order to chaos.—Michael R. Burch
We should do the best we can with the talents we were given and the time we
have remaining. —
Michael R. Burch
Love is exquisite torture.—Michael R. Burch (written after reading "It's Only My Heart" by Mirza Ghalib)
Longer Prose Epigrams and Epigram Collections
The editors of Poetry know no more about poetry than I do about
basket-weaving, except that I know a good basket when I have it in my
hands.—Michael R. Burch
The craziest fantasy of all is that human beings will ever act in the planet's best interests.
Or their own.—Michael R. Burch
When I was being bullied, I had to learn not to judge myself by the opinions of intolerant morons. Then I felt much better.—Michael R. Burch
The world is not flat, tomatoes are not poisonous, and the “common wisdom” is
sometimes more like “whiz-dumb.” — Michael R. Burch
I've come up with a simple solution to global warming: paint the entire
planet white!—Michael R. Burch
Improve yourself by other men's writings, attaining less painfully what they gained through great difficulty.—Socrates, translation by Michael R. Burch
Why did I do it? Why did I bother to become a poet? Perhaps out of a desire to
leave something when I’m gone: a trail of bread crumbs leading back to a being
named Michael R. Burch.
TALLULAHMANIA!
I’m in the same camp as the campy and vampy Tallulah. After all, what’s good for
the gander must also be good for the goose. We can take that to the bank(head).
If not, she’ll slap us all silly and spit (or piss) on our graves. — Michael R.
Burch
Tallulah was an expert cartwheeler and exhibitionist. She would cartwheel on
stage, whether the script called for it, or (most likely) didn’t. Thus she would
give appreciative audiences a glimpse of her undies, if she happened to be
wearing any. When Tallulah wor
e panties it was
undoubtedly to appease the censors and certainly not her preference. — Michael
R. Burch
Tallulah’s voice and her vices were the inspiration for Disney’s notorious
Cruella de Vil. — Michael R. Burch
Tallulah was “incomparably foulmouthed,” exceeding Cruella in at least one vice
— thanks to Disney’s censors, no doubt. — Michael R. Burch
Tallulah was the faery godmother of all the "I'll reveal whatever I like"
actresses and models who followed her lead: i.e., pretty much all of them these
days. —
Michael R. Burch
By the mid-1920s normally sedate Britons were in the grip of Tallulahmania. It
was like Beatlemania with crotch-flashing cartwheels. — Michael R. Burch
FASHION
My opinion on see-through clothing? What’s good for the royal goose should be
good for the commoner gander(ers) too! — Michael R. Burch
SPORTS
Father Time is undefeated, true, but mortals have a much higher “degree of
difficulty.” — Michael R. Burch
Johnny Bench was the benchmark, pardon the pun. — Michael R. Burch
Showtime Ohtani puts on a show and people show up to see him perform. — Michael
R. Burch
The Dodgers are indeed very dodgy with their trillion dollar payroll. But as Robert
Burns observed, “The best-laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley.” — Michael
R. Burch
It seems “Iron” Mike was a bit of a softie when things didn’t go his way. —
Michael R. Burch
If we compare Sudden Sam McDowell to the Hall of Fame’s lesser lights, he should
be in, but there’s no rhyme or reason to how the voters draw their erasable
lines in the sand. So he probably doesn’t make it. But we can always raise a
toast to Sudden Sam’s great gift to the world,
Cheers!” — Michael
R. Burch
Thanks to his use of PEDs, Jose Canseco’s baseball career is a chimera, a
grinning (or leering) Cheshire cat. — Michael R. Burch
UNEXPECTED/SLASHERS
Magic Johnson didn’t slash with great speed, leaping ability, or athleticism. He
did it, of course, with magic! — Michael R. Burch
Larry Bird wasn’t a great leaper, nor was he incredibly (or even credibly) fast,
but he could get to the hoop, making him a great slasher according to results. —
Michael R. Burch
Kevin McHale was nicknamed the “Black Hole” because when he got his hands on the
ball, it wasn’t coming back out again. McHale was a great slasher due to his
height, length, footwork and elasticity. Like the smaller Pete Maravich,
Man-Mountain McHale was incredibly flexible and never seemed to have trouble
getting his shot off from any angle. Thus there was never any reason for him to
return the ball! — Michael R. Burch
HUMAN NATURE
We only know the pieces of others they choose to share. — Michael R. Burch
And how much have
you shared lately? — Michael R. Burch
GOLDEN RULE
Be as golden within as without.—Michael R. Burch, "Suntan lines"
The Golden Rule is much easier to recite than observe. — Michael R.
Burch
We are all better at preaching the Golden Rule than observing it ourselves. — Michael R.
Burch
The Golden Rule is much easier to recite for others' benefit than to
observe oneself. — Michael R. Burch
Consider a Golden Mean with the Golden Rule: Why be
harder on yourself than on others? — Michael R. Burch
ARTS & LETTERS
Poetry should be better than prose, not more convenient to write. Clumsy
inversions and archaisms are like water wings on an Olympic swimmer. — Michael R. Burch
What is the future of poetry? I think the cream will rise to the top in the
future, as it has in the past. — Michael R. Burch
It is very difficult to write capital "P" Poetry, and beyond the ability of most
poets, but that has always been my goal. Like trying to climb the highest
mountain because it's there. As a beginning poet in my early teens, I would
destroy poems when they didn't pass muster. Once, I destroyed them all. But I
always understood the GOAL, at least. — Michael R. Burch
Modern editors know too much about poetry to recognize it when they read it. —
Michael R. Burch
There is no reason to fear criticism. If you agree, use it. If not, ignore it.
And feel free to pick and choose.—Michael R. Burch
A. E. Housman was a great poet who with his direct statement poems
single-handedly disproved claims that poetry requires imagery, metaphor, "no
ideas but in things" and other similar much-parroted nonsense. — Michael R.
Burch
Winnie-the-Pooh is a series for the ages (and all ages). — Michael R.
Burch
John Bunyan wrote the second-most-unreadable novel of all time,
Pilgrim’s
Progress. I would slightly revise the title to Grim Pill’s Progress. The
book is a lengthy sermon told through mind-numbingly boring allegories. Will the
protagonist make it through the Slough of Despair? Will he be lured from the
path to salvation in Vanity Fair? Does anybody care? It was the most laborious
read of my life, and a book I would never crack again. The most unreadable book
of all time is, of course, James Joyce's aptly titled Wake. — Michael R. Burch
Aretha Franklin has been called the Queen of Soul but in reality she was the
queen of whatever she sang, from "Nessun Dorma" to the bluesy "Summertime" to
gospel to harder fare. — Michael R. Burch
The natural response to Dimash singing "SOS" is to become a puddle of tears,
shot through with lightning bolts of awe. — Michael R.
Burch
Eartha Kitt Cat had the purr-fect name to play Catwoman. — Michael R. Burch
Batman didn’t know if he was going or coming when Michelle Pfeiffer played
Catwoman. — Michael R. Burch
Milli Vanilli seemed like two singers who could have been models, but turned out
to be two models pretending to be singers. — Michael R. Burch
Paula Cole’s semiliterate “Say a little prayer for I” takes the MacArthur cake
for bad songwriting. — Michael R. Burch
The three towers of English Language Modernism peaked by 1915, then left most of
us piqued thereafter. — Michael R. Burch
(Ezra Pound published his magnificent Kensington Garden poem in 1913. James
Joyce published Dubliners in 1914. T.S. Eliot published "Prufrock" in
1915.)
Nonsensical literary theories have been the death of poetry. — Michael R. Burch
POETRY WARS
I have been attacked by a large group of poets, The Society of Classical Poets,
who regularly publish wretched poems, some of which would fail a fifth grade
English class. Hence I redubbed them the Keystone Scops. One of the scops said
in a despairing poem that "all" the scops were afraid to reply to my criticism.
Why? Because I might quote them, resulting in "untold embarrassment" for those
being quoted!
According to the Keystone Scops, I'm just a hillbilly poet. Imagine what a major
poet could do with this Dunciad!
— Michael R. Burch
Laconic Reply to a Scop
by Michael R. Burch
You flatter yourself that anyone cares
about your "Society" and its airs.
To prove that no acclaim is due,
I mostly just quote you.
So why is your temperature rising?
Who objects to free advertising?
The Scops Are Whining Again
by Michael R. Burch
The scops are whining again:
“How can you be so mean?”
Who cares if we stammer
and suck at grammar?
Why don’t you just let us preen!”
SNAPSHOTS: THE BEST IMAGERY OF MICHAEL R. BURCH
The petal-scented rainfall of early spring. — Michael R. Burch
Ivy laureling erudite walls. — Michael R. Burch
The last gasp of a gassed canary. — Michael R. Burch
Elderly sunflowers: bees trimming their beards. — Michael R. Burch
The raindrop that overflowed the river’s banks. — Michael R. Burch
Flushed with success the toilet gurgled happily. — Michael R. Burch
Have you tasted the bitterness of tears of despair?
Have you watched the sun sink through such pale, balmless air
that your soul sought its shell like a crab on a beach,
then scuttled inside to be safe, out of reach?
Here the hills are old, and rolling
casually in their old age;
on the horizon youthful mountains
bathe themselves in windblown fountains . . .
Prose Epigrams about Poetry and Poets
Poetry is the art of finding the right word at the right time.—Michael R. Burch
If you want to be a poet, find the best way of saying things.—Michael R. Burch
I will never grok picking a picky rule over a Poem!—Michael R. Burch
In poetry, minor details can make a big difference.—Michael R. Burch
In poetry, small changes can make a big difference.—Michael R. Burch
Poetry moves the heart as well as the reason.—Michael R. Burch
The best poems delight us into wisdom, or at least its consideration.—Michael R. Burch, paraphrasing
Robert Frost and Horace
Love and art are balancing acts, with a lot of self-inflicted wounds.—Michael
R. Burch
Poetry is the marriage of ideas and emotions,
begetting music.—Michael R. Burch
I take really good poetry as a challenge and try to avoid "genius
envy."—Michael R. Burch
Adam Gopnik called Randall Jarrell the “best-equipped” American poetry critic of
the past century; he may have been the “best quipped” as well.—Michael R.
Burch
Why am I scrolling through oceans of spam to make sure I don’t tweet the
same poem twice?—Michael R. Burch
Writers must avoid weaker and weakening phrases. Relentlessly remove words
that detract rather than add.—Michael R. Burch
Some poets should be called Form-u-lists rather than Formalists because they
latch onto formulas like babies slurping lukewarm milk from disposable bottles.—Michael R. Burch
I dislike stupid rules and refuse to abide by them.—Michael R. Burch
Irony of ironies! Could there be a less poetic term for a poem than “poem”
— whether pronounced “pohm,” “po-um” or “poym”?
And what the hell rhymes with “poetry”
—
“knowitry? showitry?” —Michael R. Burch
The most common cliché in contemporary poetry is: "Show, don't tell / no
ideas but in things / fear abstractions." Unfortunately, someone forgot to
inform Homer, Sappho, Dante, Shakespeare and Milton
!—Michael R. Burch
Epitaphs
My Epitaph
by
Michael R. Burch
Do not weep for me, when I am gone.
I lived, and ate my fill, and gorged on life.
You will not find beneath this glossy stone
the man who sowed and reaped and gathered days
like flowers, undismayed they would not keep.
Go lightly then, and leave me to my sleep.
Completing the Pattern
by
Michael R. Burch
Walk with me now, among the transfixed dead
who kept life’s compact and who thus endure
harsh sentence here—among pink-petaled beds
and manicured green lawns. The sky’s azure,
pale blue once like their eyes, will gleam blood-red
at last when sunset staggers to the door
of each white mausoleum, to inquire—
What use, O things of erstwhile loveliness?
Dust (II)
by
Michael R. Burch
We are dust
and to dust we must
return ...
but why, then,
life’s pointless sojourn?
Untitled
This dream of nothingness we so fear
is salvation clear.
—
Michael R. Burch
I have my doubts about your God and his “love”:
If one screams below, what the hell is “Above”?
—
Michael R. Burch
Autumn Conundrum
by
Michael R. Burch
It's not that every leaf must
finally fall,
it's just that we can never catch them all.
Styx
by
Michael R. Burch
Black waters,
deep and dark and still . . .
all men have passed this way,
or will.
Here and Hereafter
by
Michael R. Burch
Life’s saving graces are love, pleasure, laughter ...
wisdom, it seems, is for the Hereafter.
Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by
Michael R. Burch
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
Laughter’s Cry
by
Michael R. Burch
Because life is a mystery, we laugh
and do not know the half.
Because death is a mystery, we cry
when one is gone, our numbering thrown awry.
Fahr an' Ice
by
Michael R. Burch
From what I know of death, I'll side with those
who'd like to have a say in how it goes:
just make mine cool, cool rocks (twice drowned in likker),
and real fahr off, instead of quicker.
Housman was right ...
by
Michael R. Burch
It's true that life’s not much to lose,
so why not hang out on a cloud?
It’s just the
bon voyage is hard
and the objections loud.
Long Division
by
Michael R. Burch
All things become one
Through death’s long division
And perfect precision.
Grave Oversight I
by
Michael R. Burch
The dead are always with us,
and yet they are naught!
Grave Oversight II
by
Michael R. Burch
for Jim Dunlap, who winked and suggested “not”
The dead are either naught
or naughty, being so sought!
The Locker
by
Michael R. Burch
All the dull hollow clamor has died
and what was contained,
removed,
reproved
adulation or sentiment,
left with the pungent darkness
as remembered as the sudden light.
Native American Poems, Proverbs and Sayings
These are my modern English translations of some of my favorite Native American
poems, proverbs and sayings. I translated the first three poems when my father, Paul Ray Burch Jr., made the decision to stop taking
dialysis and enter hospice. We believe he had Native American blood
―possibly Cherokee. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian
days; Mayan and Aztec literature dates back to the first millennium BCE.
Cherokee Travelers' Blessing I
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
I will extract the thorns from your feet.
Yet a little longer we will walk life's sunlit paths together.
I will love you like my own brother, my own blood.
When you are disconsolate, I will wipe the tears from your eyes.
And when you are too sad to live, I will put your aching heart to rest.
Cherokee Travelers' Blessing II
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Happily may you walk
in the paths of the Rainbow.
Oh!,
and may it always be beautiful before you,
beautiful behind you,
beautiful below you,
beautiful above you,
and beautiful all around you
where in Perfection beauty is finished.
Cherokee Travelers' Blessing III
loose loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
May Heaven’s warmest winds blow gently there,
where you reside,
and may the Great Spirit bless all those you love,
this side of the farthest tide.
And when you go,
whether the journey is fast or slow,
may your moccasins leave many cunning footprints in the snow.
And when you look over your shoulder, may you always find the Rainbow.
Native American Travelers' Blessing
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Let us walk together here
among earth's creatures, great and small,
remembering, our footsteps light,
that one wise God created
all.
Native American Prayer
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Help us learn the lessons you have left us here
in every leaf and rock.
Sioux Vision Quest
A man must pursue his Vision
as the eagle explores
the sky's deepest blues.
—Crazy Horse, Oglala Lakota Sioux (circa 1840-1877),
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
The Receiving of the Flower
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose
translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Let us sing overflowing with joy
as we observe the Receiving of the Flower.
The lovely maidens beam;
their hearts leap in their breasts.
Why?
Because they will soon yield their virginity to the men they love!
The Deflowering
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose
translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Remove your clothes;
let down your hair;
become as naked as the day you were born
—
virgins!
Prelude to Lovemaking
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose
translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Lay out your most beautiful clothes,
maidens!
The day of happiness has arrived!
Grab your combs, detangle your hair,
adorn your earlobes with gaudy pendants.
Dress in white as becomes maidens ...
Then go, give your lovers the happiness of your laughter!
And all the village will rejoice with you,
for the day of happiness has arrived!
The Flower-Strewn Pool
excerpt from a Mayan love poem
loose
translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
You have arrived at last in the woods
where no one can see what you do
at the flower-strewn pool ...
Remove your clothes,
unbraid your hair,
become as you were
when you first arrived here
naked and shameless
—
virgins, maidens!
Warrior's Confession
loose translation/interpretation by
Michael R. Burch
Oh my love, how fair you are—
far brighter than the fairest star!
Native American Proverbs
Before you judge
a man for his sins
be sure to trudge
many moons
in his moccasins.
—loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The soul would see no Rainbows if not for the eyes’ tears.
—loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
A woman’s highest calling is to help her man unite with the Source.
A man’s highest calling is to help his woman walk the earth unharmed.
—loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced.
Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.
—White Elk,
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
A brave man dies but once, a coward many times.–Native American saying,
translation by Michael R. Burch
Speak less thunder, wield more lightning. — Apache proverb, translation by
Michael R. Burch
The more we wonder, the more we understand. — Arapaho proverb, translation by
Michael R. Burch
Beware the eloquence of the rattlesnake's tail. — Navajo saying, translation by
Michael R. Burch
The rattlesnake's tail is eloquent. — Navajo saying, translation by Michael R.
Burch
Adults talk, children whine. — Blackfoot proverb, translation by Michael R.
Burch
Don’t be afraid to cry: it will lessen your sorrow. — Hopi proverb
One foot in the boat, one foot in the canoe, and you end up in the river. —
Tuscarora proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Our enemy's weakness increases our strength. — Cherokee proverb, translation by
Michael R. Burch
We will be remembered tomorrow by the tracks we leave today. — Dakota proverb,
translation by Michael R. Burch
The heart is our first teacher. — Cheyenne proverb, translation by Michael R.
Burch
Dreams beget success. — Maricopa proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Knowledge interprets the past, wisdom foresees the future. — Lumbee proverb,
translation by Michael R. Burch
The troublemaker's way is thorny. — Umpqua proverb, translation by Michael R.
Burch
What is life?
The flash of a firefly.
The breath of the winter buffalo.
The shadow scooting across the grass that vanishes with sunset.
—Blackfoot saying, translation by Michael R. Burch
More Athenian Epitaphs
Be ashamed, O mountains and seas: these were men of valorous breath.
Assume, like pale chattels, an ashen silence at death.
Michael R. Burch, after Parmenio
These men earned a crown of imperishable glory,
Nor did the maelstrom of death obscure their story.
Michael R. Burch, after Simonides
Stranger, flee!
But may Fortune grant you all the prosperity
she denied me.
Michael R. Burch, after Leonidas of Tarentum
I am loyal to you master, even in the grave:
Just as you now are death’s slave.
Michael R. Burch, after Dioscorides
Having never earned a penny,
nor seen a bridal gown slip to the floor,
still I lie here with the love of many,
to be the love of yet one more.
Michael R. Burch, after an unknown Greek poet
I lie by stark Icarian rocks
and only speak when the sea talks.
Please tell my dear father that I gave up the ghost
on the Aegean coast.
Michael R. Burch, after Theatetus
Everywhere the sea is the sea, the dead are the dead.
What difference to me—where I rest my head?
The sea knows I’m buried.
Michael R. Burch, after Antipater of Sidon
Constantina, inconstant one!
Once I thought your name beautiful
but I was a fool
and now you are more bitter to me than death!
You flee someone who loves you
with baited breath
to pursue someone who’s untrue.
But if you manage to make him love you,
tomorrow you'll flee him too!
Michael R. Burch,
after Macedonius
Dead as you are, though you lie
still as stone,
huntress Lycas,
my great Thessalonian hound,
the wild beasts still fear your white bones;
craggy Pelion remembers your valor,
splendid Ossa, the way you would bound
and bay at the moon for its whiteness,
bellowing
as below we heard valleys resound.
And how brightly with joy you would canter and run
the strange lonely peaks of high Cithaeron!
Michael R. Burch, after Simonides
Yes, bring me Homer’s lyre, no doubt,
but first yank the bloodstained strings out!
—Anacreon, translation by Michael R. Burch
Here we find Anacreon,
an elderly lover of boys and wine.
His harp still sings in lonely Acheron
as he thinks of the lads he left behind ...
—Anacreontea, translation by Michael R. Burch
I am an image, a tombstone. Seikilos placed me here as a long-lasting sign of
deathless remembrance.—loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
More Translations
She says an epigram’s too terse
to reveal her tender heart in verse ...
but really, darling, ain’t the thrill
of a kiss much shorter still?
―#2 from “Xenia” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, loose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Just as I select a ship when it's time to travel,
or a house when it's time to change residences,
even so I will choose when it's time to depart from life.
―
Seneca, speaking about the right to euthanasia in the first century AD,
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Ironic Vacation
by
Michael R. Burch
Salzburg.
Seeing Mozart’s baby grand piano.
Standing in the presence of sheer incalculable genius.
Grabbing my childish pen to write a poem & challenge the Immortals.
Next stop, the catacombs!
Biblical Knowledge or “Knowing Coming and Going”
by
Michael R. Burch
The wisest man the world has ever seen
had
fourscore concubines and
threescore queens?
This gives us pause, and so we venture hence—
he “knew” them, wisely, in the wider sense.
Less Heroic Couplets: Midnight Stairclimber
by
Michael R. Burch
Procreation
is at first great sweaty recreation,
then—long, long after the sex dies—
the source of endless exercise.
Snap Shots
by
Michael R. Burch
Our daughters must be celibate,
die virgins. We triangulate
their early paths to heaven (for
the martyrs they’ll soon conjugate).
We like to hook a little tail.
We hope there’s decent ass in jail.
Don’t fool with us; our bombs are smart!
(We’ll send the plans, ASAP, e-mail.)
The soul is all that matters; why
hoard gold if it offends the eye?
A pension plan? Don’t make us laugh!
We have your plan for sainthood. (Die.)
NOTE: The second stanza is a punning reference to the Tailhook scandal, in which
US Navy and Marine aviation officers were alleged to have sexually assaulted up
to 83 women and seven men.
A poet births words,
brings them into the world like a midwife,
then wet-nurses them from infancy to adolescence.
—
Michael R. Burch
Doggerel
There's a bun in auntie's oven,
and soon you'll have a cousin!
―
Michael R. Burch
Woeful Waffles
by
Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Thomas Moore
I think it’s woeful
and should be unlawful
to eat those awful
tofu waffles!
a poem in which i a-coos Coo & Co. of being unfairly lovable
Coo & Co. are unfairly lovable!
their poems are entirely too huggable!
for what hope have we po’-its,
we intellectual know-its,
or no-wits, when ours are so drubabble?
While not written in German, Italian, French, Latin, Greek, Sanskrit and
hieroglyphics like T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land,” but merely in
less-than-the-Queen’s-English, this poem may also require copious footnotes. The
“unfairly lovable” poems I had in mind were, particularly, “Learning Barn” and
“Grebe barcarolle,” but also other adorable Coo & Co. poems reminiscent of Lear,
Carroll, A. A. Milne, “The House on Pooh Corner” and “Yellow Submarine.” The
contraction “po’-its” stands for “poor its,” as in destitute non-entities, which
we other poets are in danger of becoming when compared to the adorability of Coo
& Co. How can we possibly hope to compete? The coinage “drubabble” means
“someone in need of a drubbing for babbling on when they should be reading Coo &
Co.” With which I must lapse into silence ...
aka "His Last Confession" by Michael R. Burch
(We have narrowed down the authorship of the the poems of Coo & Co. to either an
Einsteinian colombine named Coo or a mysterious poetess who goes by the names
F.F. Teague, Felicity Teague, Fliss Teague and FT.)
Politics: Political Epigrams
Nonsense Verse for a Nonsensical White House Resident
Roses are red,
Daffodils are yellow,
But not half as daffy
As that taffy-colored fellow!
―
Michael R. Burch aka
"The Loyal Opposition"
The Hair Flap
by
Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
The hair flap was truly a scare:
Trump’s bald as a billiard back there!
The whole nation laughed
At the state of his graft;
Now the man’s wigging out, so beware!
15 Seconds
by
Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Our president’s sex life—atrocious!
His "briefings"—bizarre hocus-pocus!
Politics—a shell game!
My brief moment of fame
flashed by before Oprah could notice!
Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of
Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
To outfox the pox:
kill yourself first, with Clorox!
And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!
No vaccine? Just chug Mr. Clean!
Is a cure out of reach? Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!
To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!
To immunize your bride, drown her in Opti-cide!
To end all future gridlocks, gargle with Vaprox!
Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!
Tea Party Madness
by
Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Since we agree,
let’s have a nice tea
with our bats in the belfry.
Donald Disgustus
by
Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
It’ll be a cold day in hell
when I wish The Donald well:
was there ever a bigger liar
than President Pants-on-Fire?
If Trump pl
ayed basketball he would lead the league
in airballs. — Michael R. Burch aka “the Loyal Opposition”
Alina "Habba Dab a Doo-Doo" is the perfect lawyer for ex-president Smelvis von
Shitzenpants. — Michael R. Burch
Trump is a RINO, a sheep in wolf’s clothing. — Michael R. Burch
Trump is a grift from God. — Michael R. Burch
Don the Con put the “con” in “conservative” and his cult provided the “serve.”
The term has become a self-fulfilling prophecy: American serfs now serve a con. —
Michael R. Burch
It turns out the term was prophetic, since "conservatives" now serve a con. Or
should we call them "conswervatives"? —
Michael R. Burch
Mister Ed was a stable genius. Trump is a horse’s ass. — Michael R. Burch
All magic, eventually, begins to wane. So too with illusions like Trump's. —
Michael R. Burch
Trump is as likely to embrace moderate Republicans as a cobra is to “embrace”
mice, and in the same affectionate manner. — Michael R. Burch
Thanks to Trump and his ilk, the GOP’s goose-stepping march toward fascism
continues apace. — Michael R. Burch
The only realistic argument against Trump’s cognitive decline is that he never
had much cognition to begin with. — Michael R. Burch
Trump's a megalomaniac whose entire life has been a nonstop attempt to con
people into thinking he’s the Big Shitz, so it’s amusing to hear he wears
diapers. — Michael R. Burch
I do what I can to point out Trump’s inadequacies to be dogcatcher, much less
president, but he provides me with so much material it’s hard to take credit. —
Michael R. Burch
When MAGA finally wakes up, it will be far too late. Ironically, their only hope
for salvation is the “liberals” they despise, loathe and fear. — Michael R.
Burch
As a result of his dithering on abortion, Trump has been caught in a withering
crossfire.— Michael R. Burch
Hopefully the wheels of justice will grind tRUMP into hamberder meat. — Michael
R. Burch
Trump paid 420K not for an NDA, but for nada.—Michael R. Burch
(Trump paid a total of 420K to Michael Cohen and Stormy Daniels, but forgot to sign the NDA, making it invalid.)
Transactional Trump is only worth his bottom line, and that bottom line is rapidly bottoming out. — Michael R. Burch
According to Stormy Daniels, Trump’s junk is more “mush” than “room.” — Michael R. Burch
DTS is to believe the lies of Don the Con. — Michael R. Burch
Republicans are ready to dump democracy for a Trump dictatorship, which will
make formerly free Americans the equivalent of Russian and North Korean serfs.
Serfs up, catch the wave, conservatives! — Michael R. Burch
I like to think Trump will go the way of the dodo. Or in his case, the Doo Doo.
— Michael R. Burch
Dragons, unicorns and talking asses? Apparently God is the God of confusion,
after all, or con-fusion. — Michael R. Burch
Usain Bolt is lightning-fast? Ostriches say that’s a stretch. — Michael R. Burch
God isn’t there
or he doesn’t care.
Religion? Beware!
—Michael R. Burch
Perhaps the best proof that god doesn’t exist is the Black Death, which killed
millions of Christians including multitudes of children and babies, in ghastly
ways. All god would have needed to do was inform Christians that better
sanitation and rat control could save innumerable lives, but god and the angels
either (1) don’t exist, (2) don’t care, or (3) lack the ability to communicate
with human beings. Whichever is true, the Christian religion is demonstrably
false in its wild claims about the “power” of god and his much-vaunted “love,”
“compassion,” “mercy,” etc.
/bookmark/xxxx/zzzz/
Abraham Lincoln appealed the to the better angels of Americans. Trump appeals to
their worst demons. To the primitive demons of unreasoning fear. Of fearing
rather than loving and respecting one's neighbor due to minor shadings of skin
coloration and culture. To the primitive demons of cowardice and intolerance. — Michael R. Burch
Tricky Nikki Haley is an expert fence-sitter. — Michael R. Burch
Donald Trump is a reverse Midas who corrupts everything he touches. Lara Trump
is his warlock’s apprentice. — Michael R. Burch
Ken Buck bucked MAGA's insanity. Think about it: a Tea Party Republican quit
Congress because MAGA is too extreme. The lunatics are running the asylum, led
by ex-president
E Pluribus Loon 'em. — Michael R. Burch
Cassidy Hutchinson is not only credible, but her courage and poise under fire have been incredible. — Michael R. Burch
Cassidy Hutchinson is a modern Erin Brockovich except that in her case the well has been poisoned for the whole country. — Michael R. Burch
Utopian Tim Scott said, "When I look at our nation, I don’t see division."
Apparently Tim Scott has never seen Trump for what he is, despite standing
behind him and kissing his reeking, seeping diaper. Ideals are well and good,
but blindness is not a virtue. Germans would have benefitted from seeing Hitler
for what he really was, rather than fawning over and applauding him. I would
like to subscribe to Tim Scott’s utopian view, but the reality of Trump and his
ilk prevents me. — Michael R. Burch
If Don the Con were truthful, he wouldn’t need a dime from others, but he’s
become the world’s greatest beggar. So sad! — Michael R. Burch
Trump says he “loves” his supporters. How much does he “love” them? Apparently,
to death, because he packs them together like sardines in the middle of a
pandemic! — Michael R. Burch aka “the Loyal Opposition”
The crackpot Kraken cracked. — Michael R. Burch aka “the Loyal Opposition”
Alas for insurrectionists, the fearsome Kraken turned out to be Flipper. —
Michael R. Burch aka “the Loyal Opposition”
Kenneth Chesebro has pled guilty to a felony in Trump's failed coup attempt and
will now be singing like a cross between a canary and a stuck pig. — Michael R.
Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
We need voter equality: get rid of the Electoral College and let every vote
carry the same weight. That would also put an end to Trumpian shenanigans in
swing states.—Michael R. Burch
Don the Con will con-tinue to con-fuse his cult, whether in the White House, the
courthouse, the jailhouse or
the outhouse. — Michael R. Burch
Trump is a gift of the Grifter Gods but they are, alas, trickster gods like
Loki, Mephistopheles and Jiibayaabooz. Trump made a deal with the Devil and now
he must pay his dues. The trickster gods giveth and the trickster gods taketh
away. Blessed be the names of the trickster gods. Amen. — Michael R. Burch
Light Verse
Less Heroic Couplets: Mini-Ode to Stamina
by
Michael R. Burch
When you’ve given so much
that I can’t bear your touch,
then from a safe distance
let me admire your persistence.
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
Cover Girl
by
Michael R. Burch
Cunning
at sunning
and dunning,
the stunning
young woman’s in the running
to be found nude on the cover
of some patronizing lover.
In this case the cover is a bed cover, where the enterprising young mistress is
about to be covered herself.
First Base Freeze
by
Michael R. Burch
I find your love unappealing
(no, make that
appalling)
because you prefer kissing
then stalling.
Paradoxical Ode to Antinatalism
by
Michael R. Burch
"God is Love."
A stay on love
would end death’s hateful sway,
someday.
A stay on love
would thus
be love,
I say.
Be true to love
and thus end death’s
fell sway!
Untitled
I didn’t mean to love you,
but I did.
Best leave the rest unsaid,
hid-
den
and unbidden.
—Michael R. Burch
You imagine life is good,
but have you actually
understood?
—Michael R. Burch
Living with a body ain’t much fun.
Harder, still, to live without one.
Whatever happened to our day in the sun?
—Michael R. Burch
How little remains of our joys and our pains.
How little remains of our losses and gains.
How little remains except to refrain.
—Michael R. Burch
Sometimes I feel better, it’s true,
but mostly I’m still not over you.
—Michael R. Burch
Don’t let the past defeat you.
Learn from it, but don’t dwell.
Have no regrets at “farewell.”
—Michael R. Burch
Haughty moon,
when did I ever trouble you,
insomnia’s co-conspirator!
—Michael R. Burch
Every day’s a new chance to lose weight,
but most likely,
I’ll
... procrastinate ...
—Michael R. Burch
Big Ben Boner
by Michael R. Burch
Early to bed, hurriedly to rise
makes a man
stealthy,
and that’s why he’s
wealthy:
what the hell is he doing behind your closed eyes?
Friend, how you’ll squirm
when you belatedly learn
that you’re the worm!
Pecking Disorder
by Michael R. Burch
Love has a pecking order,
or maybe a dis-order,
a hell we recognize
if we merely open our eyes:
the attractive win at birth,
while those of ample girth
are deemed of little worth
from Nottingham to Perth.
Nottingham is said to have the most beautiful women in the world.
Tease
by Michael R. Burch
It’s what you always say, okay?
It’s what you always say:
C’mon let’s play,
roll in the hay,
It’s what you always say.
Ole!
But little do you do, it’s true.
But little do you do.
A little diddle, run to piddle ...
we never really screw!
That’s you!
Observance (II)
by Michael R. Burch
fifty years later...
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
majestic to the eye.
Whoever felt as I,
whoever
felt them doomed to die
despite their flamboyant colors?
They seem like knights of dismal countenance ...
as if, windmills themselves,
they might tilt with the bloody sky.
And yet their favors gaily fly!
i wrote a giddy little song
by michael r. burch
i wrote a giddy little song,
which u can dance to, all night long;
i wrote a giddy little poem
which’ll tempt a smile, like sea foam;
i wrote a giddy little line,
it’ll tease a laugh, like a dandelion;
I wrote a song and took the trouble,
it’ll make u smile, like a soap bubble;
i wrote a giddy bit of fluff,
now dance to it, get off ur duff!
A Further Farewell to Dentistry
by
Michael R. Burch
for and after Richard Moore, from whom I absconded the title, after being
initially inspired by a Facebook exchange between Sam Gwynn and Alicia Stallings
Lately I've been eschewing
ice chewing
and my indentured dentist’s been boo-hooing.
Christ!
by
Michael R. Burch
If I knew men could be so dumb,
I would never have come!
Now you lie, cheat and steal in my name
and make it a thing of shame.
Did I heal the huge holes in your heart, in your head?
Isn’t it obvious: I’m dead!
Door Mouse
by Michael R. Burch
I’m sure it’s not good for my heart—
the way it will jump-start
when the mouse scoots the floor
(I try to kill it with the door,
never fast enough, or
fling a haphazard shoe ...
always too slow too)
in the strangest zig-zaggedy fashion
absurdly inconvenient for mashin’,
till our hearts, each maniacally revvin’,
make us both early candidates for heaven.
The Humpback
by Michael R. Burch
The humpback is a gullet
equipped with snarky fins.
It has a winning smile:
and when it SMILES, it wins
as miles and miles of herring
excite its fearsome grins.
So beware, unwary whalers,
lest you drown, sans feet and shins!
Apologies to España
by Michael R. Burch
the reign
in Trump’s brain
falls mainly as mansplain
No Star
by Michael R. Burch
Trump, you're no "star."
Putin made you an American Czar.
Now, if we continue down this dark path you've chosen,
pretty soon we'll be wearing lederhosen.
tRUMP is the butt of many jokes.—Michael R. Burch
Erotic Epigrams
Cunt, while you weep and seep neediness all night,
ass has claimed what would bring you delight.
—Musa Lapidaria, #100A, loose translation/interpretation by
Michael
R. Burch
Movie Criticism of Improbable Sequels
Is it possible there were two
Blue Lagoon movies, much less three?
— Michael R. Burch
I remember getting up and walking out of
Jaws III, vowing never to
return to the failing and flailing franchise: a vow I faithfully kept. —
Michael R. Burch
The best thing about
Austin Powers 3: Goldmember was its cute and
provocative title. But do we really want to think about the subject matter,
much less
explore it? — Michael R. Burch
Back to the Future III (or Suture?). Yes, methinks they went "too
far," as the movie’s blurb suggests. — Michael R. Burch
Death Wish 3 was aptly named. One can only long for the demise of
this lifeless movie franchise. — Michael R. Burch
Alas,
Die Hard 3 was true to its title and showed no signs of life.
— Michael R. Burch
The Exorcist should have exorcised its demon of self-imitation. —
Michael R. Burch
Jurassic Park has become like an overtold joke when everyone knows
the punch line. — Michael R. Burch
The
Highlander series should have taken the high road and ended
with the original. — Michael R. Burch
I’m a Tolkien fan, but
The Hobbit trilogy seems like a real str-e-e-e-tch
to me. As in, “How can we turn one story into three movies and make lots
more moolah?” — Michael R. Burch
The first two
Home Alone movies were classics, but after that,
well, it was dangerous to one’s brain cells to be home alone with nothing
better to watch! — Michael R. Burch
Indiana Jones has been accused of becoming “Stephen Seagal bad.” —
Michael R. Burch
It’s hard to believe there was actually a third
Addams Family
movie. Are we really that desperate for entertainment? And the original
Morticia Addams, played by Carolyn Jones, was much hotter! Give me the
black-and-white reruns, any time. — Michael R. Burch
Police Academy: the perpetrators of this horrendous crime should be
arrested and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law! — Michael R. Burch
The first two movies were bad enough, but
Robocop 3 added insult to
injury. — Michael R. Burch
Did we really need a follow-up to
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II:
Secret of the Ooze? Really? — Michael R. Burch
European Vacation fell vastly short of paradise. It was one flat
joke after another. I remember getting up and walking out with my
girlfriend, maybe 15 minutes into the movie. — Michael R. Burch
Friday the 13th was very unlucky for paying viewers. Jason
returning from the dead in 3-D was not an improvement on this failing and
flailing franchise. — Michael R. Burch
The
Halloween sequels kept getting worse and worse, in a seeming
contest for futility with
Friday the 13th and
Nightmare on Elm
Street. — Michael R. Burch
And thus I have reached the bottom of the briny barrel! — Michael R. Burch
CLOSING THOUGHTS
by Michael R. Burch
Religion was a big part of my family's life — we had
missionaries, pastors and Sunday School teachers, including my mother, in our
extended family — but I ended up being the black sheep.
Why?
I was a true believer until I read the Bible from cover to cover at age eleven
and was dumbfounded that anyone could consider the biblical god "good." I wrote
this epigram, my first poem, to express my conclusion:
If God
is good
half the Bible
is libel.
—Michael R. Burch
Many years later as an adult in my mid-forties, I read the Bible from cover to
cover again, then at the behest of my mother studied numerous books by Christian
apologists like Watchman Nee, C. S. Lewis, G. K. Chesterton, Billy Graham, Lee
Strobel and Josh McDowell, only to arrive at the same conclusion. Only more so.
Why?
The Bible says trees grew before the sun was created, that a
solid-but-transparent “firmament” in the sky holds back rainwater like a dam,
and that stars are tiny pinpricks of light that can fall to earth.
Is it a book of science or ancient superstitions? The Bible
commands slavery, sex slavery, infanticide, matricide, ethnic cleansing,
genocide and the ghastly stoning to death of children for non-sins and
misdemeanors.
Is it a book of ethics and morality or primitive
voodoo? The Bible according to orthodox theology says billions of
souls will go to an infinitely cruel and purposeless hell for guessing wrong
about which religion to believe.
Are Christians wise to believe in
such an evil, unjust god?
Surely those who believe in Christ should
"rightly divide the word" and give Jesus the benefit of the doubt by not
attributing the Bible's satanic verses to him as part of the Trinity. Nothing
can be more contrary to both faith and reason, than to claim God is perfect in
love, compassion, mercy, wisdom and justice, y
et to
maintain that he authored
commandments to, for instance, stone rape victims to death. If God is good, how
is that not blasphemy?
For me the Bible's most inspired passage is Paul's epiphany on Divine Love in 1
Corinthians 13. In his epiphany Paul says that if God is not Divine Love, he is
nothing, and all the words of the Bible are so much useless noise: clanging
gongs and tinkling cymbals. And Paul tells us that Divine Love thinks no evil,
holds no record of wrongs, bears all things, believes all things, hopes all
things, endures all things, never gives up and never fails. Such love is
incompatible with racism, sexism, homophobia, religious intolerance,
cherry-picking people to be saved, and with hell.
Christians should use Paul's epiphany as a litmus test, and disregard all
biblical commandments contrary to it.
Paul's description of Divine Love in 1 Corinthians 13 is the gold standard, so
why settle for less? And why accuse Jesus Christ, if you are going to name your
religion after him, of being an atom short of Divine Love?
After all, to fall an atom short of Infinity is to fall infinitely short.
CAN CHRISTIANITY BE SAVED?
by Michael R. Burch
Christian apologetics is a shambles. First the apologists insist the bible is
the “word” of an all-wise “god.” But when someone points out that the earth
doesn’t have a “firmament,” or that stars aren’t tiny pinpricks of light that
can fall to earth, or that the bible endorses the worst crimes know to manunkind
— genocide, infanticide, matricide, ethnic cleansing, slavery, sex slavery, and
the ghastly stoning to death of children for misdemeanors and non-sins like
girls being raped — the apologists plead that the authors of the bible were
“only human” and products of their primitive era.
The obvious truth is that a wise, just “god” never had anything to do with the
primitive madness and unfathomable evils of the bible. The biblical god Yahweh
had horrendous morals because he was created in the barbaric image of the
ancient witchdoctors who invented him. Threatening gullible people with the
“wrath of god” paved the witchdoctors’ path to wealth and power, just as it made
Catholic popes and evangelical pastors rich and powerful, able to influence the
“thinking” of billions of gullible sheep. The only salvation from such
backwardness is to unsheepishly think for oneself. If there is a God who is
truly good, the bible is not his word, but ancient libel designed to intimidate
human beings into unthinkingness and subservience to charlatans.
Can Christianity be saved? Perhaps, but only as follows...
Christianity must abandon
Bio:
Michael R. Burch is an American poet who lives in Nashville, Tennessee with his wife Beth, their son Jeremy, and
tw
o outrageously spoiled puppies. His poems,
epigrams, translations, essays, articles, reviews, short stories and letters have appeared more than
6,000 times in publications which include
TIME, USA Today, The Hindu, BBC
Radio 3, CNN.com, Daily Kos and hundreds of literary journals, websites and
blogs. He has two published books,
Violets for
Beth (White Violet Press, 2012) and
O, Terrible Angel (Ancient Cypress Press, 2013)
. A third book,
Auschwitz Rose, is
still in the chute but long delayed. Burch's poetry has been translated into 14 languages and set to music by
27 composers.
For an expanded bio,
circum vitae and career timeline of the author, please click here:
Michael R. Burch Expanded Bio.
Michael R. Burch related pages:
Viral Poems,
Early Poems,
Early Poems Timeline,
Rejection Slips,
Epigrams and Quotes,
Epitaphs,
Romantic Poems,
Sonnets,
Light Verse,
Parodies,
Satires,
Less
Heroic Couplets,
Free Verse,
Prose Poems,
Free Love Poems by Michael R. Burch,
Poetry by Michael R. Burch,
Poems about EROS and CUPID,
The Cosmological Constant: Limericks by Michael R. Burch,
Antinatalist Poetry,
The Best Translations of Michael R. Burch,
Dante Translations by Michael R. Burch,
Translations of Roman, Latin and other Italian Poets,
Poems by Michael R. Burch about Shakespeare,
Why I Am Not A Christian
The HyperTexts