Latest Poems

DREAMS

Many wished to be there, but only few get there. Whether or not I reached there, I hope to eat my nutritious meal daily. To live a life full of peace and love, and to be remembered for something good. Should I sacrifice my today for tomorrow ? Of course I will, what will I lived for, if not it. The struggles of life continues, even in the hereafter.

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"Tears of the Sahel"

BOKO HARAM 

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If God is a poet

 

if god is a poet

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Happiness Unrestrained

Poem Titular: Happiness Unrestrained 

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Stellar

Who said dreams aren’t reality?

Who claimed the impossible isn’t possible?

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My First Loves

How can I ever learn to love like you?

To love unconditionally,

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Ghost

I’m breathing into my hand,

fingertips cold,

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Shadow

"In the infinite silence of your gaze,

 

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Only You

"In the infinite silence of your gaze,

Serenity sets in around me, 

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I LOVE YOU NOT ENOUGH

 

Roses would have said more

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Where Memories Dwell

 

The cold nights,

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BENEATH THE SHADE OF OGBAFEMI

A day, not merely as a student but within the hallowed precincts of the Great Ife, 

the land of culture, the Orisun Imo, 

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The power of attitude đŸ’€

The Power of Attitude:A spark within, a silent guide,   The way we walk, the way we stride.   No storm too fierce, no sky too gray,   With the right attitude, we find our way. It’s not the fall, but how we rise,   Not the glare, but the fire in our eyes.   A choice we make, a light we show,   The seeds we plant, the strength we grow.    Through whispers of doubt, through echoes of fear,   Attitude whispers, "I’m always near."  

A shield in!

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Procetylisation of heart

I just realised a procetylisation of heart from love to being loved. I hope it will continue ...

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SINGLE DAY POSSIBLE SITUATION

 

Now I still try to faithfully and humanly practice the life-rhythm of the time of day in the silence that has been familiar for years; the world of disfavored things that often overwhelms the earpiece. In the thinking cerebral cortex, just like in acidic solutions, the photographic negative constantly circulates more than a million fragments of organically integrated memories of Existence, which have taken place and which may still take hold. 

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An example of better times

The popular message of scowling backsliders and doubters does not expect thanks from anyone. Others easily devour the rotting waste of poor almsmen who are pushed, crouched down, while the shadows are already devouring themselves. - In damp darkness, one always thrives alone.

Many people say no to award-winning life offers with their heads down. Empathy retreats behind ramparts and disregarded tolerance. The pitiful attempt of new chances is bending, dormant. When everything seems to be collapsing, even certain danger retreats to the ranks on command.

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WRITING AROUND

 

They don't want to understand; at best, they only feel the whining, chanting, aggressive undertones of the deliberately dumbed-down, stupid, propaganda speech; to the secret, Apocryphal slang language that infects the coordinate system of manipulable human brains. The formula - like almost everything else - is childishly simple: take, own, add nothing.

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SLIM AMONG STRAIGHT SOULS

 

In this world, the sobering, lying and false admonitions of the human head are heard, behind the windows you can still clearly see the alley-smelling, rat-gnawed, urine-smelling city of Nineveh, in which - sooner or later - everyone cheats, deceives or manipulates others for a career, for five-minute fame, for good-sounding Júdás money, and the dog doesn't really care anymore that he leaves unwashable dirt stains on his own soul.

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The Wind

 

The wind and the leaves

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Touch

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BUT !!

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Racing without survival

 

Everything starts all over again! Either the domestic pensioner salary riots, which are kept fresh and fixed, explode or take an ill-advised, new direction, or things that would be totally unacceptable in a normal, nonsense-grotesque society continue to take place with foreign assistance. A sudden mind-numbing darkness flows everywhere, and even the harmful, melting tar syrup floods the overcharged, wandering heads, stuck on the polluted garbage heap of cultures!

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AMATEUR, VILE FIGURE

 

A person's time can be marked by public, recycled, service numbers, but the actual working hours are less so. Do the actual numbers ask what his health condition was like, constantly suffering from immunodeficiency, constantly falling ill from one place to another throughout his life? Why did his pretty-exotic bride leave him? And is the so-called Why didn't even family relatives want to support, coddle, or help of their own accord?!

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Christmas Poems by Michael R. Burch

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FAULTY UNABLE BALANCE

 

The arbitrary, benevolent lie is perhaps all self-explanatory if one opens not only the appropriate digital or audio-visual channels and stares in shock and shock at things that should never happen in the wider world. The imprecise ticking, intentionally falsified time calculation can only be felt viscerally, in our bones, painfully and painfully.

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A prediction about myself

Even in the last hour, the beating pericardium rarely fades among layers of dust and ashes enclosed in urns. They will also voluntarily publish some of my pessimistic manuscripts as a hobby or for fun. Concise lines of verse wink, look at each other like accomplices.

One final day, when I am paying attention to something other than the haunting consciousness of Death, the Pisces will easily cut off my shipwrecked fate, and I have no doubt that the three goddesses of fate will be sad to the core, when instead of words of admonition and warning, melancholic drums beat...

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ENTERTAINING MUSCLEMEN QUARTET

With every ripple, a chest bound

Harmony and rhythm coming together

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A mild request

From the heavenly joys of women's faces, I would take a true pearl as a comforting gift. Still, it would be a great blessing if, instead of unnecessarily showering and demanding words, the interpretation was embedded in the ancestral speech of looks: How much do I love you?

The heavy weight of the leaden tests we experienced together would not weigh down or torment our faithful hearts, because it would be created and supplemented by the immortal flame of eternal and holy trust and agreement.

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REVOLTING TOMORROW

The test of time

Turn of the centuries

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JUDGMENT OF THE SOUL

 

The spawned lotus flowers of the deep swim in the deliberately hidden forest of the Spirit, which is increasingly difficult to notice, especially for the uninitiated, foolish eyes. Giant garlands of light are woven on the heads of unsuspecting, money-hungry macaws as the sparkling true pearls of myriads of rich people. Now the handcuff-like annual ring is still rushing inward, which would still measure the infinite passing of Time, which many interpret only physically, since the so-called spiritual maturity also has its own set of rules.

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Spinning Leaf

I enter into the world like a spinning leaf

You feel me, you sense me, I require no belief

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FAKE-DISTORTED PROPERTIES

 

Is it the gene, or the compromising, manipulative consciousness that is ready to shape itself, that is ready to encourage the frail man to make the irrevocable decision that: survival is the only guarantee of existence, one way or the other?! They caw, like ravens, in their cynical single-mindedness, when tolerance and humility blow away everything. Rather, it is communal selfishness, which now quietly lurks in the hearts that have been sold.

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HUMAN-STARS

 

You don't need to wait for a ready-made home juggler. From the light palm of hobby-critics, the award-winners made the old-fashioned liking-selfishness - if they don't even know what it means - innovation, development, as an avant-garde performance.

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FOREFATHER’S VOICES

Everyone needs to vote

No Joke

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INNER SOUL-TENSION

 

Like encrypted spies of the Executioner-Times, the eye sockets of your life now stare into the gaping, indifferent nothingness; they would try to decipher the series of daily Apocrypha-encrypted riddles, which the rags-to-riches life - like everyone else - inflicted on man. A deep silence lurks in you, the kind of childish, anguished abandonment that can only be alleviated by the vision of the idyllic Beloved, if he even remembers you at all, although you can believe less and less that all your aborted, mad ax attempts give rise to futility.

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LONGING FOR SHELTER

 

Be careful my friend! No humiliation at all! Don't even think of showing yourself as vulnerable, vulnerable, childishly naive, a capricious-hesitant clown, as someone who deliberately plays a role to cover up, hide your truer self, like the intentionally split onion skin layers from your soul. You can be a grown-up person - these days -, but you can only rarely be, but you also feel that inside you carry and cherish secret grimacing laughs that allow you to remain yourself, even if the compromising, rude World outside takes a vast, 360-degree turn every day. .

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CONVOLUTED REFERENCE POINT

 

It is unnecessary to take back the polite right of self-indulgence - he is afraid. In vain! Amaga reduced to cordivat is proper, good manners, etiquette. And although - supposedly - the code of conduct is still in full force in some places; if one catches a brainless wild fowl jerk for a change, it is better not to engage in intellectual and literary ramblings, but to simply move on with measured English.

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It's like I've been shamed

Centrally specified regulated thoughts or ideas go to one. They walk their huge, bribed circles in the orbit of manipulable nervous systems, while looking for tangible evidence of the peace they have found.

Only the scrappy anti-mortgage of tooth and nail prosperity, survivability, at any cost matters to greedy career-seekers just as much as it does to raging stragglers. Our imaginary dreams are never followed by real action. The stress and risk factors of everyday life, which have become unbearable, hug each other. Even the dispassionate words promised and worn out together can no longer mean anything.

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UNEXPECTED THOUGHT

The hills have eyes

The mountains extend understanding

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BEING, TIME, CURVE

 

Everything you know right now will all go up in smoke tomorrow, will be lost: the given faithful, honest words that we confess to each other's whispering ears, and later to our romantic hearts, the promise of an orphaned handshake asking for help, to which it would have been so nice to hold on, the unconditional, love that exists for its own sake - of course, if it still exists - and then everything that was once created or born and now has flown towards the Universe...

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CONFLICT OF WEEKDAYS

 

Consciousness acts more and more by itself as if it were an automatic machine; will or humility is at best only in the books, if it exists. Cells, molecules, bodies are all part of this manipulative, thought-out diligence. Diligent squatting, crouching in the ancient way of diligent and careful crickets and ants, but why?! If it's not the joint expenses, bills, utilities, then the petty debts that have accumulated up until now are suffocating one's goals, desires, and childish-naive dreams.

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WRITING 101

Words that talk

Responses that stalk

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Movable shells

 

Only the color and at most the shell, if you can see it. In the seed house, the black-brown seed is soaked and dried on the sand. He looks like an outsider wanderer, at the same time confiding in him, and at the same time even luring him in with an insidious desire.

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DEFYING DISAPPOINTMENT

 

The silly days of senseless incoherence have long been upon us - he is afraid. The value of truths and lies is determined much more by influence and vulgar manipulations. The one-time, eternal, mischievous promise of lasting happiness probably only exists in the world of fairy tales.

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IN THE PALMS OF UNINVITED SITUATIONS

 

The antique mahogany table, which most certainly cost a fortune, is getting beat more and more; they constantly show their snarling, cursing lion claws primarily to their employees at the bottom of the pyramid. Afraid: rebellious ingenuity - if it existed - can no longer help or protect the truth of any human being.

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CAUTIONARY SPEECH

 

In the pregnant maelstrom of laboring Worlds, the shipwrecked Man stands hesitating, pondering within himself. Not only Executioner-Death, but the millstone tolerance of Existence descends as an ominous omen in the form of silent agreement. Questions and answers would sigh in jagged ears; I wonder what he should have done differently, in a different way, to be able to look into the depths of the curved mirrors a little more livably, more humanely, and to respect himself, that he stood up when he was pinned down quite a few times, kicked out, or just humiliated and he still remained a Human.

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SIGN FRAGMENTS

 

I cannot exist visibly, present - only invisible. I do not bargain with those who serially break the established human laws. Rarely can I just feel that I can be a precious One among many.

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RECURRENT EVENTS OF THE WORLD

 

They already say - not only the wiser ones - if they still exist here on this Earth, that we will surely fall a lot, my friends! Even Existence will become more and more expensive, and as soon as one or the other willful moles-mums are kicked out of good-sounding jobs, where it is exceptionally not necessary to work thirty-six hours straight, the state of permanent-total weightlessness will still be in half of our lives, if it happens.

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Jessamyn's Song by Michael R. Burch

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SULPICIA TRANSLATIONS by Michael R. Burch

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ENDLESS SEARCH

 

"Just a few more months, then I'll leave the city and everything" - you answer when asked how you've been feeling in the past 5-10 years. It's as if they're staring at you suspiciously from the shelter of yawning window panes, and even now you don't know, why?! The smell of animals, like people, seems to get stronger in the evening, this alone makes me uneasy and in doubt.

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AN EMPTY WHEELCHAIR

Alone

Once where a person with a disability sat

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A humiliating whisper

Those who have been honored to meet me so far will stay with me for a while. For a while, I still want to put a flower wreath in the waterfall hair cascade of real lady-angels. I carry with me my memories condemned to neglect at the age of forty, less than three years old.

My battered, eternal longing for a more honest, romantic world, which seems increasingly distant, can only be an idyllic fog on the wall of my thinking imagination.

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COOKIE MONSTER THRILL

Mysterious bake

Ingredients by mistake

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POPCORN MAN

A male performer being a Pop Music Star

From start to finish

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THE ORY OF INTERCONNECTION

 

It is already a self-inflicted wound, which constantly exposes itself to new vulnerability, to the crossfire of humiliation and murder. Conscious, honest understanding, when connections and differences of opinion could also take place at the tables, as if they were completely excluded. Even a question mark wrapped in the fetal position after the real questions, to which it would still be appropriate to cough up answers through gritted teeth.

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INTERSECTIONS OF OPPOSITES

 

A romantic, flirty moment caught; the visceral, honest expression of our emotions can seem like bragging and chasing, even in our own eyes. Part of everything is the so-called the internal process of self-exculpation, when we don't notice it anymore and we are immediately exposed. The Janus-masks will fall off once and for all, but only when we learn to truly and sincerely trust the other, because we know that the betrayal of our words, actions, and deeds will be the ordained origin and cause-and-effect relationship of unforgiveness.

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END POINT VERDICTS

 

You were forced to live the life of ironers and leeches, and if you were forced to fail enough times like Sisyphus, you deliberately ran away from problems and troubles, because you knew for sure that sooner or later gigantic tests would overtake you; when the thief is mean, the brave is cowardly, or the beautiful virgin is dirty and provocative. It is more likely that your body is gnawing away at the smaller molecular cells of your body - prematurely -, while a small bacteria-worm from Alamusi is writing more than a million expensive prescriptions, saying: "Just take it calmly, see if it helps!"

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LADY LIBERTY FOR PRESIDENT

America’s Icon

Just imagine for a moment

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Calling longing

Our love, which we believed to be immortal, as well as the unshakable summoning of loyalty, the metaphorical chain of relationships, was deliberately discouraged by this current grotesque age infected with material success.

Tolerating it - I have already experienced it - is only rarely possible, like the anxious Sisyphus who was often chased away. - I could have been a child in your arms again, who could not be disturbed or threatened by a vengeful Fate, or a petty individual interest, would not be called to you by an uncertain distance, a landless distance.

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Daredevil by Michael R. Burch

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EVANSTON DINER

Place to eat

I can’t say Evanston Diner can’t be beat

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HESITANT STUMBLES

 

While life and level differences are already layered on the human soul; conscious construction also has its drawbacks. The verdict of an authenticated, deliberately falsified reality is almost unappealable. It is now less and less possible to extort the maintenance livelihood, as some stupid, forbidden-taboo hunger pang. Because the light of reason and free-thought quickly boils away even in meat pots; it burns, or, as they say, it sticks to it, like mud-jam.

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EXPERIENCED DIFFERENCES

 

My friend! Maybe you're right! First, of course, you only account for the weight of your years as a prisoner, and only later the decades that have gradually, unexpectedly and suddenly been added to your being. Every time you laughed at the threateningly approaching Hangman's Death and tachycardia heart valve disorders, which sent emergency signals to the cogs of your body and then your brain, you were already like, why back down, when it wouldn't hurt to live Life to the fullest; at the dawn of our childhood, you taught me - just like you - to endure and wipe away my tears when an army of hurt and insults rushed at me, and I didn't understand why the weaker or smaller ones were hurt at all ages!

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LOOP-NICKNAMING

I wonder when the invisible One will take the gracious fatigue to not only wave over my life, but to send someone as a truthful witness who rightfully protects, comforts, and uplifts.

Out there, one can always know that the unworthy Present is rushing over one's head. It's a ruthless game of chance, the media and social space are full of false promises. No wonder most of them have been brainwashed a long time ago. So far, people and history have rarely been able to learn from the praise of losers!

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EXPERIENCED MEMORY-ALLEGRO FORTE

 

A harmonious, sheltering handshake from you; your visit is an unexpected holiday. It is an integral part of the secretly whispered, invisible dialogue between the two of us. A habit ready to be renewed. We search in our shared memories when we look at each other, and we feel that we belong together even without his unnecessary words, even if Life has taken you far away now. Absent Age-picture has already acquired all the yellowness, a black-and-white photo of a costume, when we were still mischievous, winking children and dared to trust in the promises of a nobler, more beautiful Future.

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AGE DILEMMA

 

Nowhere was the deserved, desired Life, or dream, the romantic saint-being, which all of us who had been stuck in the fallow fields with tunya-indifference, longed for for so long. The past still croaks tiredly and lamely, like an old, rusty washing machine or a crow. An intoxicating, unwashable stain of dirt floats in the Present. This strange, eccentric intermediate state is difficult now; we can viscerally feel how the conceited-selfish, almost tyrannical shelter of pot-shadows and stigma-wounds grows every day.

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BEING A PRISONER OF LOANS

 

It's a shame to wonder for a long time! We are produced like automatic puppets on an assembly line, who are sheepishly sheepish or nodding their heads. Just as many others, they would crouch down at the conclusion of the sure Beginning and End. Out there, they suck each other's nerves, guts, and blood like vampires in the making, becoming more and more determined - those who live so as not to hurt themselves will be hurt.

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Unpopular private speech

 

Like a house of snails, I waited motionless for years... I would have waited for some heavenly sign, a cacifant message, a dance of melodies that could be understood in the soul, a phone call from the Beloved, when he had confessed: maybe even now his golden, dear heart loves me, but he doesn't have the courage to get out of a relationship doomed to loss. The cheese-colored arches of the chalk-legged moon paint amber lights on the walls of the room stuck in the evening.

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HEAVEN’S SPIRITUAL JUICE

Soothing for the Soul

Healing Behold

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A GLORIOUS CASE IS ABOUT TO

 

The dreams of newborns are shaken by a stroller on the cobblestones of the street. The star-mom, maybe in her thirties, with flaxen-blonde hair, hugs and tugs at a crying little girl, because they are late for kindergarten again; the road is stuttering too. Irregularity in human behavior will never be able to sway a person, even if it is so necessary and must in some places. It has nothing to do with the honest, instinctive maternal feelings that perhaps every woman should have.

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Medieval Poetry Translations by Michael R. Burch

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Native American Translations by Michael R. Burch

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Fate is enough

Those who remain forever alone, as a diligent and active news-teller into a landless past, may be half-way staring into their memories, as if what is and what could be are not possible, but reality, and they do not take daily voluntary exile so seriously.

Although happiness was left out of the man's life on purpose, the found Sweetheart still defiantly faces fate. Because Time chews and devours his internal organs more and more and curses his never-before-seen career.

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Ono no Komachi translations by Michael R. Burch

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discernment

His life: steaming like a swamp kneaded into a desert. His scars torn to the bone are almost always preserved for himself by the aging Time. The stealthily approaching crypt minute becomes a lonely, barren lunar landscape; he strips himself, humiliates himself in a thousand ways.

Schizophrenic mirrors stand in the throne room of his lake-wide dreams, while lost souls yawn among themselves. The haunting midnight watches the secret revelation even more vehemently, but it can be traced back to the scratched mask of Semmi's face. "If he even dares to dream, the cheater-leech living long does not remember, sooner or later he will forget everything."

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Song Poems by Michael R. Burch

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Like someone caught in the act

From wall to wall you can already hear the morbid calvary of the heart turning inward. I silently listen to the silence inside, while my face is stained red by the gnawing shame that you. many people made promises, vows, but rarely, even one, could keep his word!

I should learn to believe in hypocrite miracles again. It seemed to lurk trembling through my tears: the alchemy of my wasted memories.

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WITH SELFISH SELF-IRONY

 

A fickle gloom moves, half-way between the stones it stirs; even the complex sounds seem to want to flow apart, first only in your hands, later in the windings of your brain and in your thoughts. A bewitched shadow regularly disappears and then comes back into your life, and you still don't know; was it your fault when you confessed what your wounded heart is tormenting, just like a bewildered Romeo, or was he the one who betrayed your feelings, your unshakable faith in the immortal All?!

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IMPATIENT TO SLIP INTO REALITY

 

I already feel the years of pregnancy on your shoulders as tortured. Why don't you let go of your eternity pain?! Why can't you once and for all shake off the leaden, shipwrecked chains that tear your heart and soul from your shackled spiral body?!

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CINDERFELLA

Evil Thug

Precinct Photo Mug

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Like someone caught in the act

From wall to wall you can already hear the morbid calvary of the heart turning inward. I silently listen to the silence inside, while my face is stained red by the gnawing shame that you. many people made promises, vows, but rarely, even one, could keep his word!

I should learn to believe in hypocrite miracles again. It seemed to lurk trembling through my tears: the alchemy of my wasted memories.

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AFTER BREAKS

 

I constantly force myself into a lively, self-deprecating debate. The false-lying, tinsel carnival of weekdays really surprised me; isolated in feverish spaces, melancholic, wandering like an occasional Yorick fool, I believed many, many things, and the most important thing: Man can still be repaired!

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Ono no Komachi translations by MIchael R. Burch

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ANALYSIS OF SOME THINGS

 

In this crazy One World, thoughts are already shallow and ulcerated; meaningless gestures, moments, promises, low speeches, sermons are lost in the fog of permanent insignificance, just like balloons that are punctured on purpose. In a strange way, the misunderstood Gogoli soul seems to be boiling here as well, which the Hamlet-faced people were once able to wear under our skin like a worn cloak.

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Antinatalist Poetry

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An emotional poem

Insidious make-up can usually remain with them, as well as unwashable makeup. Diagonal shines in the lake of a pair of greedy, longing eyes. Who knows who you mean?

Contours of rainbow shapes cherishing in bays splashing in light. They share and call at the same time. The balance of instincts seems to expand in them. – The uncontrollable Present is getting blurred with the longing images of lived memories.

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WALKING WARRIORS

Brethren of men

Spiritual Warriors to the end

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POET GOSSIP

Did you hear what some poet readers are saying?

Why do Poet’s write?

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Why I "Left" the Religious Right by Michael R. Burch

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LIGHTNING VISIT AT THE OLD SCHOOL

 

I'm walking down that particular confusing street again. I wish I could do it, so that I could intentionally avoid the building, which knows so much about me that it can almost see into my kidneys. My belonging memories from the miserable past still call to me; every cursed start of school in the fall makes me cry. The headmaster tried to give hair-splitting, iron-hatted conservatism to every student - literally - he retired a long time ago.

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AUTUMN ALLEGRO

 

Now come the haunted mists of worry; furrow-Time carves trenches on their crypt-faces; in the morning wind, elves and tiny jinn watch each other's small movements. Their holy fall from existence hardly lasts. The cobwebbed wrinkles of Autumn dance around, like Midas-leaves of rye, the small tremors of deprived Life; our happy-sad feelings are now played on broken guitar strings. - Now the season is making an unknown Procrostes bed for many.

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BIOGRAPHY REPORT

 

Every remaining fragmentary thread - even if there was one - leads to permanent, deficit-filling despair; out there, the sinking islands of Atlantis emerge here and there from under the surging, unquestioning, ruminating waters. Even so, the false, often compromising arguments wither away the tyrannical rebellions of the spell of the Executioner-Times. Because even today, slovenly, no-man's house masonry walls prevent the diligent work of an ant, and the budding false modesty also sprouts seeds sooner; butt-heads crown their sermons with thorns.

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Arthurian Poetry by Michael R. Burch

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Accounting halfway

The one who is left alone, the mournful admission ponders in him: he has always stood alone in the face of the threatening World. The Indian wind of times is only a fragment of his memory. An unprincipled defense and defiance alliance cannot serve with sufficient impartiality to create new relationships.

Creating a sacred protection system out of friendships is almost totally impossible. He who is left alone, let his voice be a tame knock, his gaze a hard flash. You can't do anything else!

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POET FABLE

Day into night

No permissions just decisions

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FORGOTTEN ISLANDERS HERE

 

Crashing into rock-hard phalanster walls to death; alone and hesitantly, at every age we must stand before the hideously betrayed Hyena-World, which we could only believe was our own. Our enlightening, prophetic words are almost without light, shadowless, there is no longer, and perhaps there cannot be, anyone who understands the essence of the current garbage dump here, and who is in debt to whom, or just the obligee at all times.

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by the time you think about it

 

No one can escape primarily from himself. It's as if crouching, chained shadows follow him in the pitch-black, where only nodding moles walk in sewer tunnels, just like on the surface. In the crass, careerist drive, in the prison of repressed, exhibitionist emotions, when perhaps everyone is already courting the facts and not rational arguments or connections, he licks prize-winning asses.

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FISHER PRICE VOICE

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COMPT

The so-called more beautiful reality shows its back, whether suspicious-looking, pock-marked strangers or even greedy, beaten monsters constantly force me to stand among them and loudly chant brainwashed, propaganda slogans about the greater life opportunities that have become only for the privileged.

During the happy-sad hour of self-pity, they eat bigger and bigger bites of your soul. Luscious, double-minded mirrors constantly make fun of the heart that falls easily in love, just like a beggar forever picking up crumbs for a whole life, the dragged soul.

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Erotic Poems by Michael R. Burch

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BECAUSE NOTHING IS RIGHT

 

Life is often one continuous expanse; with few happy-sad melodies, and even less joy. We make mistakes in everything, or we just miss the ramp imposed on us; we drive along the path of unattainable dreams of luxury, which - nice as it is - will never come to anything, then we cheat on the prostitute's muse. Because there's nothing here anymore, whoever is "honest and humane" and doesn't steal other people's property, his undying romance burns in his heart like dirt, he would try to wriggle out of the captivity of the abyss-heaps, but his soul is still infected.

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HUMAN PORTION

 

Even now, it may seem that the simple, mortal Man is just staring at the ornate appearance-Universe, and can imagine himself as a Lord where he is actually a Lilliputian resident. He doesn't understand that he can only be a simple, but all the more valuable speck of dust in the chain of connections, and he brags about the infinity that originally imposed his fate as a shipwreck as a Páka yarn.

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Love Poems by Michael R. Burch

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Poems about Adam, Eve, Lucifer/Satan, the Garden of Eden and the Fall, by Michael R. Burch

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GLASS-SOUNDED GULL

 

A heart-wrenching depth gathers within me! As a youth, I became an Aggastyan child among you! I received the Everything as a gift at some point, the guilty fears of boundless, tormented wounds still race in my soul! The throbbing cups of my heart conceived in crimson are often cut by invisible knives; jealous sadness can still be seen in the furrows of my sunken chubby face - that is why I stop in front of the walls of prejudice on purpose!

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Poems for Poets by Michael R. Burch

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Social depths

Deed, action, human word can be pushed aside or just forgotten. Nowadays, everyone only vegetates selfishly. On the surface there is a painful, throbbing, mushy mess.

Dirt-trash reigning on the same global label. Layered ringworm. And if some people could still dare to believe that, there can no longer be the deepest deep compliments, romance, and instead of polite speech, they make each other beautiful in chubby and belching orgies.

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BUG OUT

Bug spray

When you had enough

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LYRICAL DISTANCE

 

Because you know, maybe you understand: the changing contrasts of permanence slowly grind the windings of your overzealous brain, your everyday existence, and cause and effect is no longer what it was when common sense cleaned it up and explained the chains of connections that were often swept under the rug.

...


WONDER WOMAN HARRIS DOMINANCE

Kamala Harris controlled the stage

While her Villain could only ponder

...


AN EPISTLE TO AN ACQUAINTANCE

 

My friend! I know it's a shame to ask, but now I'm going to interrogate you! Confess to me, but only the Truth! What is the significance of the sentence of the Executioner-Times for mortality, in which the flower pot debris of memories, stories, and lives are scattered like grains of sand? What are secret places where the wave-crested sea preserved the footprints of old lovers?!

...


GRANDMA’S LEVERAGE

Gone on to glory

Left a story

...


Blown away regrets

Broken careers and longing dreams cry their lack-death for a beat after the heavy millions. And whoever wants to prosper now by any means will be a single-minded tyrant, like an army of accomplices in the ranks of traitors.

Death and passing away - in any case - always impeccably clothe its mortals striving for old age. – And while some people do not notice the transition between the part and the whole between tiny gears at all; they drift until the Adys tree leaves can support themselves.

...


AIR HEAVEN

Welcome Aboard

All through the Lord

...


NONSTOP MOUTH

Big Mouth

Beyond Control

...


GLASS PERSPECTIVE

 

We will go unnoticed, just like the radical, or just necessary, prophetic question marks, which sooner or later it would be good to display on the walls of every Era. Time hesitates in strange places that you. the living simulates a silent sound, because no one complains about their past or present memories or themselves.

...


HALFWAY TO CALCULATION

 

There is an ominous drumming in his heart, boundless vulnerability gnaws. Those who are left alone for good have neither time nor anyone. Twilight dips its richly golden-tipped feather into the undressing of seasons when autumn comes again. He who is left alone can no longer be comforted by either the living or the dead. Unread Apokfif moves hang on the walls of Time; our memory moments gradually become denser: do you bind up the bleeding, punctured wounds of your cells voluntarily or out of pity?!

...


BUS ART

Just Imagine

Picture toy scale bus models into sculpture

...


AN INCREDIBLE SACRIFICE

 

While we live, we are constantly tossed, swayed, rocked by the ferocious melody of permanent uncertainty; we were suspicious, we remain, we will be, because we constantly waste what is only apparently ours, or because we greedily, manipulably-cowardly consider ourselves more important than everyone else. No one can know the moral demand imposed on their common sense anymore; to measure, he deliberately forgets the one who was protected by an inside deal, and then betrayed himself.

...


LUCIFER WAYS

Corrupt Behind

Evil Crave

...


Extinct celestial bodies

 

With connection, the dead material is no longer bound. Before the blinded, pure light can be released for good, it lingers and lingers in the intermediate transition...

...


GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON CONNECTION

Prayer

How to approach

...


LET’S DANCE

Music setting the mood

The closeness of romance

...


POET SOLIDARITY

SUNDAY           THOUGHT

 

...


ESSENCE OF POETRY

Surge and Compose

Emotional Aspect

...


AS SOMEONE GETTING READY TO LEAVE...

 

Many times I no longer look into the screaming depths of curved mirrors, because my inner self is upset; I am sad and totally surprised at the same time. Sanda, absurdity, nonsense were packed into Korba, and the Gods left me completely to myself. I know that I don't have any rights at all - if I had them and could have any at all - at the moment. It was as if the Iron Curtain had come down again and that the situation in the West had not changed.

...


Not new either

Now I wander alone on the ruins of landless, landless days. Among my fears, there are still many solidified, holy superstitions - I have nowhere and nowhere to escape from my present.

My past has long since been cursed, while my future is always uncertain. How many coquettish, propaganda-mouthed, duplicitous messengers should be listened to out of necessity, in order to finally realize that here on this earth, everything is standing in the way of the so-called permanent changes.

...


LIFE PAGES

A world that wouldn’t understand

Perhaps wouldn’t care

...


CHANGING ATTITUDE

 

Why is it that silence gave birth to gaping silence and then petrified early?! The human soul gets lost in this confusing, dirty-underwhelming maelstrom called the World. Because maybe no one can be different from anyone else anymore, and because everyday survival is one in a billion, to which later falsified legends cling like leeches. We will pack our hermetically sealed memories and feelings into well-sealed containers, since we never want to allow anyone to hurt us again; we are often too ashamed on behalf of others.

...


HALLELUJAH TRAIN

Spiritual Welcome

The Step Aboard

...


Things between things

 

I have known for a long time what a waste it is to lose myself. Wandering aimlessly shipwrecked under the skies of this cruel Hyena world. Vomit the peaceful memories secretly expected, romantic kisses.

...


TOURIST RULES

 

But it would be nice to cling to thin, almost transparent words again; even when we feel the Spirit as some strange unknown there is still something missing. It would still be good to scrape together what is left of the sure and eternal with loyalty and faithfully insisting on the radiance of the personality. While "some" see homeless people with the smell of dirty alleys, elderly vagrants in torn, sloppy rags, the demographic breakdown of poorer people - it would be nice if we could rediscover some secret Humanity in them.

...


UNFINISHED NUMBER REQUEST

 

We were deceived first only by the circular, spiral series of common memories, and then by the intensified, radical rianas; perhaps we couldn't even think about the ancient immortal metamorphoses of the fulfilled Everything, since we hadn't been a couple for a long time. Like when a shy, half-witted elephant-bodied bicep limps into a sophisticated china shop - I was stared at by his malevolent, manipulative girlfriends.

...


Departing life-time

Self-delusion has become a pious offense, if only unknown loneliness can be a person's only companion. Balance can only rarely unfold, like a palm. Even the appearance of survivability could be reduced to a cheaply inflated, false password.

How dead-ended were all the yew-flowered hopes. The total lack of your measured human face is always reflected in your everyday life. With fragmentary articulations, the past testifies and answers at the same time. If you do something wrong, he scolds you and warns you. You couldn't be a diamond knockback for a long time, neither in flesh nor in cells.

...


THE LAST POLYHISTOR

 

He accepted our last, finite meeting - it's safe to say - quite calmly. He tried to adopt a very partner-scientist voice and restrained relativity - at least - while he could do it as a Human on the barrier. Only his eternally furrowed, black eyebrows twitched and pulled up, as if they were ancient, antique shutters, when he heard the news that as a necessary solution I had to drop out of the adoration, but corrupt-cursed Hungarian major to the core.

...


STILL IN A WIND STORM

 

The sky is now still crystal balls, and the holy silence and humility of flowers correspond to it. Yellow lilies are replaced by hyacinths, where killer wasps and innocent bees swarm on pollen stirred up in tiny boats. Icarus suddenly gallops out of the shining Cyclops sun; with his broken wax wing, he would still try to keep himself in the air, but the worsening gravity would immediately crush him under it. It will almost certainly be the only, warning example of the lasting moment before the fall.

...


A profane reflection

After repeated compliments, the sole, insidious goal of which is the all-encompassing bed scene, the unconditional culmination of Everything. Even the golden and heroic ages - if they existed - are exalted only out of habit.

Among the raging daily grind and inhuman hunger wages, what will the miserable life of forty-year-olds, which they tried to scrape together for themselves, be like one day?! – What kind of cast will there be among the familiar faces?!

...


DO SOMETHING MOVEMENT

Action without fail

The election 2024 is the detail

...


EMPTY PALM

 

Because sooner or later, someone always returns to the houses. No one can yet know whether it is the betrayed husband, or the bohemian lover who holds a grudge, the diva lady who tries to hide her own girlish confusion by pretending to be a superficial, hysterical canary. So many questions and answers, to which we can rarely find proper, logical answers. -

...


ALLEY THIRST

 

Here, through the deserted city of Nineveh, a fierce dogfight is creeping along, as if someone had slapped the back of the head or slapped the back of the head; even the locked gates are all snug against squat, dark walls unnoticed. Their glued windows do not let through the mirror tiles of the broken amber-light shards that are about to penetrate. Like angry business sharks, they regularly break the systems of business life, as well as their own, almost tyrannical, greedy rules of the game.

...


Most Liked Poems

Where Memories Dwell

 

The cold nights,

...


I LOVE YOU NOT ENOUGH

 

Roses would have said more

...


The power of attitude đŸ’€

The Power of Attitude:A spark within, a silent guide,   The way we walk, the way we stride.   No storm too fierce, no sky too gray,   With the right attitude, we find our way. It’s not the fall, but how we rise,   Not the glare, but the fire in our eyes.   A choice we make, a light we show,   The seeds we plant, the strength we grow.    Through whispers of doubt, through echoes of fear,   Attitude whispers, "I’m always near."  

A shield in!

...


Procetylisation of heart

I just realised a procetylisation of heart from love to being loved. I hope it will continue ...

...


Ghost

I’m breathing into my hand,

fingertips cold,

...


Only You

"In the infinite silence of your gaze,

Serenity sets in around me, 

...


BENEATH THE SHADE OF OGBAFEMI

A day, not merely as a student but within the hallowed precincts of the Great Ife, 

the land of culture, the Orisun Imo, 

...


BUT !!

...


"Tears of the Sahel"

BOKO HARAM 

...


WRITING AROUND

 

They don't want to understand; at best, they only feel the whining, chanting, aggressive undertones of the deliberately dumbed-down, stupid, propaganda speech; to the secret, Apocryphal slang language that infects the coordinate system of manipulable human brains. The formula - like almost everything else - is childishly simple: take, own, add nothing.

...


DREAMS

Many wished to be there, but only few get there. Whether or not I reached there, I hope to eat my nutritious meal daily. To live a life full of peace and love, and to be remembered for something good. Should I sacrifice my today for tomorrow ? Of course I will, what will I lived for, if not it. The struggles of life continues, even in the hereafter.

...


Happiness Unrestrained

Poem Titular: Happiness Unrestrained 

...


Shadow

"In the infinite silence of your gaze,

 

...


SINGLE DAY POSSIBLE SITUATION

 

Now I still try to faithfully and humanly practice the life-rhythm of the time of day in the silence that has been familiar for years; the world of disfavored things that often overwhelms the earpiece. In the thinking cerebral cortex, just like in acidic solutions, the photographic negative constantly circulates more than a million fragments of organically integrated memories of Existence, which have taken place and which may still take hold. 

...


An example of better times

The popular message of scowling backsliders and doubters does not expect thanks from anyone. Others easily devour the rotting waste of poor almsmen who are pushed, crouched down, while the shadows are already devouring themselves. - In damp darkness, one always thrives alone.

Many people say no to award-winning life offers with their heads down. Empathy retreats behind ramparts and disregarded tolerance. The pitiful attempt of new chances is bending, dormant. When everything seems to be collapsing, even certain danger retreats to the ranks on command.

...


A prediction about myself

Even in the last hour, the beating pericardium rarely fades among layers of dust and ashes enclosed in urns. They will also voluntarily publish some of my pessimistic manuscripts as a hobby or for fun. Concise lines of verse wink, look at each other like accomplices.

One final day, when I am paying attention to something other than the haunting consciousness of Death, the Pisces will easily cut off my shipwrecked fate, and I have no doubt that the three goddesses of fate will be sad to the core, when instead of words of admonition and warning, melancholic drums beat...

...


JUDGMENT OF THE SOUL

 

The spawned lotus flowers of the deep swim in the deliberately hidden forest of the Spirit, which is increasingly difficult to notice, especially for the uninitiated, foolish eyes. Giant garlands of light are woven on the heads of unsuspecting, money-hungry macaws as the sparkling true pearls of myriads of rich people. Now the handcuff-like annual ring is still rushing inward, which would still measure the infinite passing of Time, which many interpret only physically, since the so-called spiritual maturity also has its own set of rules.

...


HUMAN-STARS

 

You don't need to wait for a ready-made home juggler. From the light palm of hobby-critics, the award-winners made the old-fashioned liking-selfishness - if they don't even know what it means - innovation, development, as an avant-garde performance.

...


DEFYING DISAPPOINTMENT

 

The silly days of senseless incoherence have long been upon us - he is afraid. The value of truths and lies is determined much more by influence and vulgar manipulations. The one-time, eternal, mischievous promise of lasting happiness probably only exists in the world of fairy tales.

...


If God is a poet

 

if god is a poet

...


Stellar

Who said dreams aren’t reality?

Who claimed the impossible isn’t possible?

...


My First Loves

How can I ever learn to love like you?

To love unconditionally,

...


SLIM AMONG STRAIGHT SOULS

 

In this world, the sobering, lying and false admonitions of the human head are heard, behind the windows you can still clearly see the alley-smelling, rat-gnawed, urine-smelling city of Nineveh, in which - sooner or later - everyone cheats, deceives or manipulates others for a career, for five-minute fame, for good-sounding Júdás money, and the dog doesn't really care anymore that he leaves unwashable dirt stains on his own soul.

...


Touch

...


Racing without survival

 

Everything starts all over again! Either the domestic pensioner salary riots, which are kept fresh and fixed, explode or take an ill-advised, new direction, or things that would be totally unacceptable in a normal, nonsense-grotesque society continue to take place with foreign assistance. A sudden mind-numbing darkness flows everywhere, and even the harmful, melting tar syrup floods the overcharged, wandering heads, stuck on the polluted garbage heap of cultures!

...


AMATEUR, VILE FIGURE

 

A person's time can be marked by public, recycled, service numbers, but the actual working hours are less so. Do the actual numbers ask what his health condition was like, constantly suffering from immunodeficiency, constantly falling ill from one place to another throughout his life? Why did his pretty-exotic bride leave him? And is the so-called Why didn't even family relatives want to support, coddle, or help of their own accord?!

...


Christmas Poems by Michael R. Burch

...


FAULTY UNABLE BALANCE

 

The arbitrary, benevolent lie is perhaps all self-explanatory if one opens not only the appropriate digital or audio-visual channels and stares in shock and shock at things that should never happen in the wider world. The imprecise ticking, intentionally falsified time calculation can only be felt viscerally, in our bones, painfully and painfully.

...


ENTERTAINING MUSCLEMEN QUARTET

With every ripple, a chest bound

Harmony and rhythm coming together

...


A mild request

From the heavenly joys of women's faces, I would take a true pearl as a comforting gift. Still, it would be a great blessing if, instead of unnecessarily showering and demanding words, the interpretation was embedded in the ancestral speech of looks: How much do I love you?

The heavy weight of the leaden tests we experienced together would not weigh down or torment our faithful hearts, because it would be created and supplemented by the immortal flame of eternal and holy trust and agreement.

...


FAKE-DISTORTED PROPERTIES

 

Is it the gene, or the compromising, manipulative consciousness that is ready to shape itself, that is ready to encourage the frail man to make the irrevocable decision that: survival is the only guarantee of existence, one way or the other?! They caw, like ravens, in their cynical single-mindedness, when tolerance and humility blow away everything. Rather, it is communal selfishness, which now quietly lurks in the hearts that have been sold.

...


INNER SOUL-TENSION

 

Like encrypted spies of the Executioner-Times, the eye sockets of your life now stare into the gaping, indifferent nothingness; they would try to decipher the series of daily Apocrypha-encrypted riddles, which the rags-to-riches life - like everyone else - inflicted on man. A deep silence lurks in you, the kind of childish, anguished abandonment that can only be alleviated by the vision of the idyllic Beloved, if he even remembers you at all, although you can believe less and less that all your aborted, mad ax attempts give rise to futility.

...


LONGING FOR SHELTER

 

Be careful my friend! No humiliation at all! Don't even think of showing yourself as vulnerable, vulnerable, childishly naive, a capricious-hesitant clown, as someone who deliberately plays a role to cover up, hide your truer self, like the intentionally split onion skin layers from your soul. You can be a grown-up person - these days -, but you can only rarely be, but you also feel that inside you carry and cherish secret grimacing laughs that allow you to remain yourself, even if the compromising, rude World outside takes a vast, 360-degree turn every day. .

...


CONVOLUTED REFERENCE POINT

 

It is unnecessary to take back the polite right of self-indulgence - he is afraid. In vain! Amaga reduced to cordivat is proper, good manners, etiquette. And although - supposedly - the code of conduct is still in full force in some places; if one catches a brainless wild fowl jerk for a change, it is better not to engage in intellectual and literary ramblings, but to simply move on with measured English.

...


It's like I've been shamed

Centrally specified regulated thoughts or ideas go to one. They walk their huge, bribed circles in the orbit of manipulable nervous systems, while looking for tangible evidence of the peace they have found.

Only the scrappy anti-mortgage of tooth and nail prosperity, survivability, at any cost matters to greedy career-seekers just as much as it does to raging stragglers. Our imaginary dreams are never followed by real action. The stress and risk factors of everyday life, which have become unbearable, hug each other. Even the dispassionate words promised and worn out together can no longer mean anything.

...


BEING, TIME, CURVE

 

Everything you know right now will all go up in smoke tomorrow, will be lost: the given faithful, honest words that we confess to each other's whispering ears, and later to our romantic hearts, the promise of an orphaned handshake asking for help, to which it would have been so nice to hold on, the unconditional, love that exists for its own sake - of course, if it still exists - and then everything that was once created or born and now has flown towards the Universe...

...


CONFLICT OF WEEKDAYS

 

Consciousness acts more and more by itself as if it were an automatic machine; will or humility is at best only in the books, if it exists. Cells, molecules, bodies are all part of this manipulative, thought-out diligence. Diligent squatting, crouching in the ancient way of diligent and careful crickets and ants, but why?! If it's not the joint expenses, bills, utilities, then the petty debts that have accumulated up until now are suffocating one's goals, desires, and childish-naive dreams.

...


Movable shells

 

Only the color and at most the shell, if you can see it. In the seed house, the black-brown seed is soaked and dried on the sand. He looks like an outsider wanderer, at the same time confiding in him, and at the same time even luring him in with an insidious desire.

...


IN THE PALMS OF UNINVITED SITUATIONS

 

The antique mahogany table, which most certainly cost a fortune, is getting beat more and more; they constantly show their snarling, cursing lion claws primarily to their employees at the bottom of the pyramid. Afraid: rebellious ingenuity - if it existed - can no longer help or protect the truth of any human being.

...


CAUTIONARY SPEECH

 

In the pregnant maelstrom of laboring Worlds, the shipwrecked Man stands hesitating, pondering within himself. Not only Executioner-Death, but the millstone tolerance of Existence descends as an ominous omen in the form of silent agreement. Questions and answers would sigh in jagged ears; I wonder what he should have done differently, in a different way, to be able to look into the depths of the curved mirrors a little more livably, more humanely, and to respect himself, that he stood up when he was pinned down quite a few times, kicked out, or just humiliated and he still remained a Human.

...


SIGN FRAGMENTS

 

I cannot exist visibly, present - only invisible. I do not bargain with those who serially break the established human laws. Rarely can I just feel that I can be a precious One among many.

...


LIGHTNING VISIT AT THE OLD SCHOOL

 

I'm walking down that particular confusing street again. I wish I could do it, so that I could intentionally avoid the building, which knows so much about me that it can almost see into my kidneys. My belonging memories from the miserable past still call to me; every cursed start of school in the fall makes me cry. The headmaster tried to give hair-splitting, iron-hatted conservatism to every student - literally - he retired a long time ago.

...


AUTUMN ALLEGRO

 

Now come the haunted mists of worry; furrow-Time carves trenches on their crypt-faces; in the morning wind, elves and tiny jinn watch each other's small movements. Their holy fall from existence hardly lasts. The cobwebbed wrinkles of Autumn dance around, like Midas-leaves of rye, the small tremors of deprived Life; our happy-sad feelings are now played on broken guitar strings. - Now the season is making an unknown Procrostes bed for many.

...


BIOGRAPHY REPORT

 

Every remaining fragmentary thread - even if there was one - leads to permanent, deficit-filling despair; out there, the sinking islands of Atlantis emerge here and there from under the surging, unquestioning, ruminating waters. Even so, the false, often compromising arguments wither away the tyrannical rebellions of the spell of the Executioner-Times. Because even today, slovenly, no-man's house masonry walls prevent the diligent work of an ant, and the budding false modesty also sprouts seeds sooner; butt-heads crown their sermons with thorns.

...


The Wind

 

The wind and the leaves

...


REVOLTING TOMORROW

The test of time

Turn of the centuries

...


Spinning Leaf

I enter into the world like a spinning leaf

You feel me, you sense me, I require no belief

...


FOREFATHER’S VOICES

Everyone needs to vote

No Joke

...


UNEXPECTED THOUGHT

The hills have eyes

The mountains extend understanding

...


WRITING 101

Words that talk

Responses that stalk

...


RECURRENT EVENTS OF THE WORLD

 

They already say - not only the wiser ones - if they still exist here on this Earth, that we will surely fall a lot, my friends! Even Existence will become more and more expensive, and as soon as one or the other willful moles-mums are kicked out of good-sounding jobs, where it is exceptionally not necessary to work thirty-six hours straight, the state of permanent-total weightlessness will still be in half of our lives, if it happens.

...


Jessamyn's Song by Michael R. Burch

...


SULPICIA TRANSLATIONS by Michael R. Burch

...


ENDLESS SEARCH

 

"Just a few more months, then I'll leave the city and everything" - you answer when asked how you've been feeling in the past 5-10 years. It's as if they're staring at you suspiciously from the shelter of yawning window panes, and even now you don't know, why?! The smell of animals, like people, seems to get stronger in the evening, this alone makes me uneasy and in doubt.

...


AN EMPTY WHEELCHAIR

Alone

Once where a person with a disability sat

...


A humiliating whisper

Those who have been honored to meet me so far will stay with me for a while. For a while, I still want to put a flower wreath in the waterfall hair cascade of real lady-angels. I carry with me my memories condemned to neglect at the age of forty, less than three years old.

My battered, eternal longing for a more honest, romantic world, which seems increasingly distant, can only be an idyllic fog on the wall of my thinking imagination.

...


COOKIE MONSTER THRILL

Mysterious bake

Ingredients by mistake

...


POPCORN MAN

A male performer being a Pop Music Star

From start to finish

...


THE ORY OF INTERCONNECTION

 

It is already a self-inflicted wound, which constantly exposes itself to new vulnerability, to the crossfire of humiliation and murder. Conscious, honest understanding, when connections and differences of opinion could also take place at the tables, as if they were completely excluded. Even a question mark wrapped in the fetal position after the real questions, to which it would still be appropriate to cough up answers through gritted teeth.

...


INTERSECTIONS OF OPPOSITES

 

A romantic, flirty moment caught; the visceral, honest expression of our emotions can seem like bragging and chasing, even in our own eyes. Part of everything is the so-called the internal process of self-exculpation, when we don't notice it anymore and we are immediately exposed. The Janus-masks will fall off once and for all, but only when we learn to truly and sincerely trust the other, because we know that the betrayal of our words, actions, and deeds will be the ordained origin and cause-and-effect relationship of unforgiveness.

...


END POINT VERDICTS

 

You were forced to live the life of ironers and leeches, and if you were forced to fail enough times like Sisyphus, you deliberately ran away from problems and troubles, because you knew for sure that sooner or later gigantic tests would overtake you; when the thief is mean, the brave is cowardly, or the beautiful virgin is dirty and provocative. It is more likely that your body is gnawing away at the smaller molecular cells of your body - prematurely -, while a small bacteria-worm from Alamusi is writing more than a million expensive prescriptions, saying: "Just take it calmly, see if it helps!"

...


LADY LIBERTY FOR PRESIDENT

America’s Icon

Just imagine for a moment

...


Calling longing

Our love, which we believed to be immortal, as well as the unshakable summoning of loyalty, the metaphorical chain of relationships, was deliberately discouraged by this current grotesque age infected with material success.

Tolerating it - I have already experienced it - is only rarely possible, like the anxious Sisyphus who was often chased away. - I could have been a child in your arms again, who could not be disturbed or threatened by a vengeful Fate, or a petty individual interest, would not be called to you by an uncertain distance, a landless distance.

...


Daredevil by Michael R. Burch

...


EVANSTON DINER

Place to eat

I can’t say Evanston Diner can’t be beat

...


HESITANT STUMBLES

 

While life and level differences are already layered on the human soul; conscious construction also has its drawbacks. The verdict of an authenticated, deliberately falsified reality is almost unappealable. It is now less and less possible to extort the maintenance livelihood, as some stupid, forbidden-taboo hunger pang. Because the light of reason and free-thought quickly boils away even in meat pots; it burns, or, as they say, it sticks to it, like mud-jam.

...


EXPERIENCED DIFFERENCES

 

My friend! Maybe you're right! First, of course, you only account for the weight of your years as a prisoner, and only later the decades that have gradually, unexpectedly and suddenly been added to your being. Every time you laughed at the threateningly approaching Hangman's Death and tachycardia heart valve disorders, which sent emergency signals to the cogs of your body and then your brain, you were already like, why back down, when it wouldn't hurt to live Life to the fullest; at the dawn of our childhood, you taught me - just like you - to endure and wipe away my tears when an army of hurt and insults rushed at me, and I didn't understand why the weaker or smaller ones were hurt at all ages!

...


LOOP-NICKNAMING

I wonder when the invisible One will take the gracious fatigue to not only wave over my life, but to send someone as a truthful witness who rightfully protects, comforts, and uplifts.

Out there, one can always know that the unworthy Present is rushing over one's head. It's a ruthless game of chance, the media and social space are full of false promises. No wonder most of them have been brainwashed a long time ago. So far, people and history have rarely been able to learn from the praise of losers!

...


EXPERIENCED MEMORY-ALLEGRO FORTE

 

A harmonious, sheltering handshake from you; your visit is an unexpected holiday. It is an integral part of the secretly whispered, invisible dialogue between the two of us. A habit ready to be renewed. We search in our shared memories when we look at each other, and we feel that we belong together even without his unnecessary words, even if Life has taken you far away now. Absent Age-picture has already acquired all the yellowness, a black-and-white photo of a costume, when we were still mischievous, winking children and dared to trust in the promises of a nobler, more beautiful Future.

...


AGE DILEMMA

 

Nowhere was the deserved, desired Life, or dream, the romantic saint-being, which all of us who had been stuck in the fallow fields with tunya-indifference, longed for for so long. The past still croaks tiredly and lamely, like an old, rusty washing machine or a crow. An intoxicating, unwashable stain of dirt floats in the Present. This strange, eccentric intermediate state is difficult now; we can viscerally feel how the conceited-selfish, almost tyrannical shelter of pot-shadows and stigma-wounds grows every day.

...


BEING A PRISONER OF LOANS

 

It's a shame to wonder for a long time! We are produced like automatic puppets on an assembly line, who are sheepishly sheepish or nodding their heads. Just as many others, they would crouch down at the conclusion of the sure Beginning and End. Out there, they suck each other's nerves, guts, and blood like vampires in the making, becoming more and more determined - those who live so as not to hurt themselves will be hurt.

...


Unpopular private speech

 

Like a house of snails, I waited motionless for years... I would have waited for some heavenly sign, a cacifant message, a dance of melodies that could be understood in the soul, a phone call from the Beloved, when he had confessed: maybe even now his golden, dear heart loves me, but he doesn't have the courage to get out of a relationship doomed to loss. The cheese-colored arches of the chalk-legged moon paint amber lights on the walls of the room stuck in the evening.

...


HEAVEN’S SPIRITUAL JUICE

Soothing for the Soul

Healing Behold

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A GLORIOUS CASE IS ABOUT TO

 

The dreams of newborns are shaken by a stroller on the cobblestones of the street. The star-mom, maybe in her thirties, with flaxen-blonde hair, hugs and tugs at a crying little girl, because they are late for kindergarten again; the road is stuttering too. Irregularity in human behavior will never be able to sway a person, even if it is so necessary and must in some places. It has nothing to do with the honest, instinctive maternal feelings that perhaps every woman should have.

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Medieval Poetry Translations by Michael R. Burch

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Native American Translations by Michael R. Burch

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Fate is enough

Those who remain forever alone, as a diligent and active news-teller into a landless past, may be half-way staring into their memories, as if what is and what could be are not possible, but reality, and they do not take daily voluntary exile so seriously.

Although happiness was left out of the man's life on purpose, the found Sweetheart still defiantly faces fate. Because Time chews and devours his internal organs more and more and curses his never-before-seen career.

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Ono no Komachi translations by Michael R. Burch

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discernment

His life: steaming like a swamp kneaded into a desert. His scars torn to the bone are almost always preserved for himself by the aging Time. The stealthily approaching crypt minute becomes a lonely, barren lunar landscape; he strips himself, humiliates himself in a thousand ways.

Schizophrenic mirrors stand in the throne room of his lake-wide dreams, while lost souls yawn among themselves. The haunting midnight watches the secret revelation even more vehemently, but it can be traced back to the scratched mask of Semmi's face. "If he even dares to dream, the cheater-leech living long does not remember, sooner or later he will forget everything."

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Song Poems by Michael R. Burch

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Like someone caught in the act

From wall to wall you can already hear the morbid calvary of the heart turning inward. I silently listen to the silence inside, while my face is stained red by the gnawing shame that you. many people made promises, vows, but rarely, even one, could keep his word!

I should learn to believe in hypocrite miracles again. It seemed to lurk trembling through my tears: the alchemy of my wasted memories.

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WITH SELFISH SELF-IRONY

 

A fickle gloom moves, half-way between the stones it stirs; even the complex sounds seem to want to flow apart, first only in your hands, later in the windings of your brain and in your thoughts. A bewitched shadow regularly disappears and then comes back into your life, and you still don't know; was it your fault when you confessed what your wounded heart is tormenting, just like a bewildered Romeo, or was he the one who betrayed your feelings, your unshakable faith in the immortal All?!

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IMPATIENT TO SLIP INTO REALITY

 

I already feel the years of pregnancy on your shoulders as tortured. Why don't you let go of your eternity pain?! Why can't you once and for all shake off the leaden, shipwrecked chains that tear your heart and soul from your shackled spiral body?!

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CINDERFELLA

Evil Thug

Precinct Photo Mug

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Like someone caught in the act

From wall to wall you can already hear the morbid calvary of the heart turning inward. I silently listen to the silence inside, while my face is stained red by the gnawing shame that you. many people made promises, vows, but rarely, even one, could keep his word!

I should learn to believe in hypocrite miracles again. It seemed to lurk trembling through my tears: the alchemy of my wasted memories.

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AFTER BREAKS

 

I constantly force myself into a lively, self-deprecating debate. The false-lying, tinsel carnival of weekdays really surprised me; isolated in feverish spaces, melancholic, wandering like an occasional Yorick fool, I believed many, many things, and the most important thing: Man can still be repaired!

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Ono no Komachi translations by MIchael R. Burch

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ANALYSIS OF SOME THINGS

 

In this crazy One World, thoughts are already shallow and ulcerated; meaningless gestures, moments, promises, low speeches, sermons are lost in the fog of permanent insignificance, just like balloons that are punctured on purpose. In a strange way, the misunderstood Gogoli soul seems to be boiling here as well, which the Hamlet-faced people were once able to wear under our skin like a worn cloak.

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Antinatalist Poetry

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An emotional poem

Insidious make-up can usually remain with them, as well as unwashable makeup. Diagonal shines in the lake of a pair of greedy, longing eyes. Who knows who you mean?

Contours of rainbow shapes cherishing in bays splashing in light. They share and call at the same time. The balance of instincts seems to expand in them. – The uncontrollable Present is getting blurred with the longing images of lived memories.

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WALKING WARRIORS

Brethren of men

Spiritual Warriors to the end

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POET GOSSIP

Did you hear what some poet readers are saying?

Why do Poet’s write?

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Why I "Left" the Religious Right by Michael R. Burch

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Arthurian Poetry by Michael R. Burch

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Accounting halfway

The one who is left alone, the mournful admission ponders in him: he has always stood alone in the face of the threatening World. The Indian wind of times is only a fragment of his memory. An unprincipled defense and defiance alliance cannot serve with sufficient impartiality to create new relationships.

Creating a sacred protection system out of friendships is almost totally impossible. He who is left alone, let his voice be a tame knock, his gaze a hard flash. You can't do anything else!

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POET FABLE

Day into night

No permissions just decisions

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FORGOTTEN ISLANDERS HERE

 

Crashing into rock-hard phalanster walls to death; alone and hesitantly, at every age we must stand before the hideously betrayed Hyena-World, which we could only believe was our own. Our enlightening, prophetic words are almost without light, shadowless, there is no longer, and perhaps there cannot be, anyone who understands the essence of the current garbage dump here, and who is in debt to whom, or just the obligee at all times.

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by the time you think about it

 

No one can escape primarily from himself. It's as if crouching, chained shadows follow him in the pitch-black, where only nodding moles walk in sewer tunnels, just like on the surface. In the crass, careerist drive, in the prison of repressed, exhibitionist emotions, when perhaps everyone is already courting the facts and not rational arguments or connections, he licks prize-winning asses.

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FISHER PRICE VOICE

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COMPT

The so-called more beautiful reality shows its back, whether suspicious-looking, pock-marked strangers or even greedy, beaten monsters constantly force me to stand among them and loudly chant brainwashed, propaganda slogans about the greater life opportunities that have become only for the privileged.

During the happy-sad hour of self-pity, they eat bigger and bigger bites of your soul. Luscious, double-minded mirrors constantly make fun of the heart that falls easily in love, just like a beggar forever picking up crumbs for a whole life, the dragged soul.

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Erotic Poems by Michael R. Burch

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BECAUSE NOTHING IS RIGHT

 

Life is often one continuous expanse; with few happy-sad melodies, and even less joy. We make mistakes in everything, or we just miss the ramp imposed on us; we drive along the path of unattainable dreams of luxury, which - nice as it is - will never come to anything, then we cheat on the prostitute's muse. Because there's nothing here anymore, whoever is "honest and humane" and doesn't steal other people's property, his undying romance burns in his heart like dirt, he would try to wriggle out of the captivity of the abyss-heaps, but his soul is still infected.

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HUMAN PORTION

 

Even now, it may seem that the simple, mortal Man is just staring at the ornate appearance-Universe, and can imagine himself as a Lord where he is actually a Lilliputian resident. He doesn't understand that he can only be a simple, but all the more valuable speck of dust in the chain of connections, and he brags about the infinity that originally imposed his fate as a shipwreck as a Páka yarn.

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Love Poems by Michael R. Burch

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Poems about Adam, Eve, Lucifer/Satan, the Garden of Eden and the Fall, by Michael R. Burch

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GLASS-SOUNDED GULL

 

A heart-wrenching depth gathers within me! As a youth, I became an Aggastyan child among you! I received the Everything as a gift at some point, the guilty fears of boundless, tormented wounds still race in my soul! The throbbing cups of my heart conceived in crimson are often cut by invisible knives; jealous sadness can still be seen in the furrows of my sunken chubby face - that is why I stop in front of the walls of prejudice on purpose!

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Poems for Poets by Michael R. Burch

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Social depths

Deed, action, human word can be pushed aside or just forgotten. Nowadays, everyone only vegetates selfishly. On the surface there is a painful, throbbing, mushy mess.

Dirt-trash reigning on the same global label. Layered ringworm. And if some people could still dare to believe that, there can no longer be the deepest deep compliments, romance, and instead of polite speech, they make each other beautiful in chubby and belching orgies.

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BUG OUT

Bug spray

When you had enough

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LYRICAL DISTANCE

 

Because you know, maybe you understand: the changing contrasts of permanence slowly grind the windings of your overzealous brain, your everyday existence, and cause and effect is no longer what it was when common sense cleaned it up and explained the chains of connections that were often swept under the rug.

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WONDER WOMAN HARRIS DOMINANCE

Kamala Harris controlled the stage

While her Villain could only ponder

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AN EPISTLE TO AN ACQUAINTANCE

 

My friend! I know it's a shame to ask, but now I'm going to interrogate you! Confess to me, but only the Truth! What is the significance of the sentence of the Executioner-Times for mortality, in which the flower pot debris of memories, stories, and lives are scattered like grains of sand? What are secret places where the wave-crested sea preserved the footprints of old lovers?!

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GRANDMA’S LEVERAGE

Gone on to glory

Left a story

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Blown away regrets

Broken careers and longing dreams cry their lack-death for a beat after the heavy millions. And whoever wants to prosper now by any means will be a single-minded tyrant, like an army of accomplices in the ranks of traitors.

Death and passing away - in any case - always impeccably clothe its mortals striving for old age. – And while some people do not notice the transition between the part and the whole between tiny gears at all; they drift until the Adys tree leaves can support themselves.

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AIR HEAVEN

Welcome Aboard

All through the Lord

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NONSTOP MOUTH

Big Mouth

Beyond Control

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GLASS PERSPECTIVE

 

We will go unnoticed, just like the radical, or just necessary, prophetic question marks, which sooner or later it would be good to display on the walls of every Era. Time hesitates in strange places that you. the living simulates a silent sound, because no one complains about their past or present memories or themselves.

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HALFWAY TO CALCULATION

 

There is an ominous drumming in his heart, boundless vulnerability gnaws. Those who are left alone for good have neither time nor anyone. Twilight dips its richly golden-tipped feather into the undressing of seasons when autumn comes again. He who is left alone can no longer be comforted by either the living or the dead. Unread Apokfif moves hang on the walls of Time; our memory moments gradually become denser: do you bind up the bleeding, punctured wounds of your cells voluntarily or out of pity?!

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BUS ART

Just Imagine

Picture toy scale bus models into sculpture

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AN INCREDIBLE SACRIFICE

 

While we live, we are constantly tossed, swayed, rocked by the ferocious melody of permanent uncertainty; we were suspicious, we remain, we will be, because we constantly waste what is only apparently ours, or because we greedily, manipulably-cowardly consider ourselves more important than everyone else. No one can know the moral demand imposed on their common sense anymore; to measure, he deliberately forgets the one who was protected by an inside deal, and then betrayed himself.

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LUCIFER WAYS

Corrupt Behind

Evil Crave

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Extinct celestial bodies

 

With connection, the dead material is no longer bound. Before the blinded, pure light can be released for good, it lingers and lingers in the intermediate transition...

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GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDSON CONNECTION

Prayer

How to approach

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LET’S DANCE

Music setting the mood

The closeness of romance

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POET SOLIDARITY

SUNDAY           THOUGHT

 

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ESSENCE OF POETRY

Surge and Compose

Emotional Aspect

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AS SOMEONE GETTING READY TO LEAVE...

 

Many times I no longer look into the screaming depths of curved mirrors, because my inner self is upset; I am sad and totally surprised at the same time. Sanda, absurdity, nonsense were packed into Korba, and the Gods left me completely to myself. I know that I don't have any rights at all - if I had them and could have any at all - at the moment. It was as if the Iron Curtain had come down again and that the situation in the West had not changed.

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Not new either

Now I wander alone on the ruins of landless, landless days. Among my fears, there are still many solidified, holy superstitions - I have nowhere and nowhere to escape from my present.

My past has long since been cursed, while my future is always uncertain. How many coquettish, propaganda-mouthed, duplicitous messengers should be listened to out of necessity, in order to finally realize that here on this earth, everything is standing in the way of the so-called permanent changes.

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LIFE PAGES

A world that wouldn’t understand

Perhaps wouldn’t care

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CHANGING ATTITUDE

 

Why is it that silence gave birth to gaping silence and then petrified early?! The human soul gets lost in this confusing, dirty-underwhelming maelstrom called the World. Because maybe no one can be different from anyone else anymore, and because everyday survival is one in a billion, to which later falsified legends cling like leeches. We will pack our hermetically sealed memories and feelings into well-sealed containers, since we never want to allow anyone to hurt us again; we are often too ashamed on behalf of others.

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HALLELUJAH TRAIN

Spiritual Welcome

The Step Aboard

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Things between things

 

I have known for a long time what a waste it is to lose myself. Wandering aimlessly shipwrecked under the skies of this cruel Hyena world. Vomit the peaceful memories secretly expected, romantic kisses.

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TOURIST RULES

 

But it would be nice to cling to thin, almost transparent words again; even when we feel the Spirit as some strange unknown there is still something missing. It would still be good to scrape together what is left of the sure and eternal with loyalty and faithfully insisting on the radiance of the personality. While "some" see homeless people with the smell of dirty alleys, elderly vagrants in torn, sloppy rags, the demographic breakdown of poorer people - it would be nice if we could rediscover some secret Humanity in them.

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UNFINISHED NUMBER REQUEST

 

We were deceived first only by the circular, spiral series of common memories, and then by the intensified, radical rianas; perhaps we couldn't even think about the ancient immortal metamorphoses of the fulfilled Everything, since we hadn't been a couple for a long time. Like when a shy, half-witted elephant-bodied bicep limps into a sophisticated china shop - I was stared at by his malevolent, manipulative girlfriends.

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Departing life-time

Self-delusion has become a pious offense, if only unknown loneliness can be a person's only companion. Balance can only rarely unfold, like a palm. Even the appearance of survivability could be reduced to a cheaply inflated, false password.

How dead-ended were all the yew-flowered hopes. The total lack of your measured human face is always reflected in your everyday life. With fragmentary articulations, the past testifies and answers at the same time. If you do something wrong, he scolds you and warns you. You couldn't be a diamond knockback for a long time, neither in flesh nor in cells.

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THE LAST POLYHISTOR

 

He accepted our last, finite meeting - it's safe to say - quite calmly. He tried to adopt a very partner-scientist voice and restrained relativity - at least - while he could do it as a Human on the barrier. Only his eternally furrowed, black eyebrows twitched and pulled up, as if they were ancient, antique shutters, when he heard the news that as a necessary solution I had to drop out of the adoration, but corrupt-cursed Hungarian major to the core.

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STILL IN A WIND STORM

 

The sky is now still crystal balls, and the holy silence and humility of flowers correspond to it. Yellow lilies are replaced by hyacinths, where killer wasps and innocent bees swarm on pollen stirred up in tiny boats. Icarus suddenly gallops out of the shining Cyclops sun; with his broken wax wing, he would still try to keep himself in the air, but the worsening gravity would immediately crush him under it. It will almost certainly be the only, warning example of the lasting moment before the fall.

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A profane reflection

After repeated compliments, the sole, insidious goal of which is the all-encompassing bed scene, the unconditional culmination of Everything. Even the golden and heroic ages - if they existed - are exalted only out of habit.

Among the raging daily grind and inhuman hunger wages, what will the miserable life of forty-year-olds, which they tried to scrape together for themselves, be like one day?! – What kind of cast will there be among the familiar faces?!

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DO SOMETHING MOVEMENT

Action without fail

The election 2024 is the detail

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EMPTY PALM

 

Because sooner or later, someone always returns to the houses. No one can yet know whether it is the betrayed husband, or the bohemian lover who holds a grudge, the diva lady who tries to hide her own girlish confusion by pretending to be a superficial, hysterical canary. So many questions and answers, to which we can rarely find proper, logical answers. -

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ALLEY THIRST

 

Here, through the deserted city of Nineveh, a fierce dogfight is creeping along, as if someone had slapped the back of the head or slapped the back of the head; even the locked gates are all snug against squat, dark walls unnoticed. Their glued windows do not let through the mirror tiles of the broken amber-light shards that are about to penetrate. Like angry business sharks, they regularly break the systems of business life, as well as their own, almost tyrannical, greedy rules of the game.

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