I AM!
by Michael R. Burch

I am not one of ten billion—I—
sunblackened Icarus, chary fly,
staring at God with a quizzical eye.

I am not one of ten billion, I.

I am not one life has left unsquashed—
scarred as Ulysses, goddess-debauched,
pale glowworm agleam with a tale of panache.

I am not one life has left unsquashed.

I am not one without spots of disease,
laugh lines and tan lines and thick-callused knees
from begging and praying and girls sighing "Please!"

I am not one without spots of disease.

I am not one of ten billion—I—
scion of Daedalus, blackwinged fly
staring at God with a sedulous eye.

I am not one of ten billion, I
AM!

Keywords/Tags: I, AM, ego, individual, individuality, character, Icarus, Daedalus, Ulysses, fly, gadfly, chary, wary, quizzical, questioning, panache, sedulous, heretical



jesus hates me, this i know
by michael r. burch

jesus hates me, this I know,
for Church libel tells me so:
“little ones to him belong”
but if they use their dongs, so long!
     yes, jesus hates me!
     yes, jesus baits me!
     yes, he berates me!
    Church libel tells me so!

jesus fleeces us, i know,
for Religion scams us so:
little ones are brainwashed to
believe god saves the Chosen Few!
yes, jesus fleeces!
yes, he deceases
the bunny and the rhesus
because he’s mad at you!

jesus hates me—christ who died
so i might be crucified:
for if i use my **** or brain,
that will drive the “lord” insane!
     yes, jesus hates me!
     yes, jesus baits me!
     yes, he berates me!
    Church libel tells me so!

jesus hates me, this I know,
for Church libel tells me so:
first fools tell me “look above,”
that christ’s the lamb and god’s the dove,
but then they sentence me to Hell
for using my big brain too well!
     yes, jesus hates me!
     yes, jesus baits me!
     yes, he berates me!
    Church libel tells me so!

The sound of your breath steadies me, it makes me feel alive,
It makes me notice my own breath and the way I feel inside.

Your part in my life reassures my that I am really here,
Without you, who's to say I didn't make it all up from fear.

I am fragile:

Tissue-Paper skin,
Silken heartstrings.
Yet I still can breathe.
This tenuous breeze.

Glass bones,
in my glass home.
One stone,
is all it takes to breach,
My glass throne.

I am Fragile:
Please, shout at me,
while I can barely see,
what "me," really means.

Please, tell me I'm wrong,
So I can guess why,
I'm going to cry,
A broken song.

I am the fragile song who beats in amorphous tune,
to no one else's beat.
Who's piano strings are plucked by someone else's keys.
And who's instructions are in the other room.
Locked with someone else's key.

I am Fragile:
Easily broken or damaged.
Flimsy or Insubstantial.
Delicate and vulnerable.

I am the frail,
Who lives on the sheer strength of will.

Who am I ?

I patiently asked....
But my answers were not answered....

As i sit under the shed drinking a hunters
I layed all my motives
Under
My heart racin.... that's
A sound of a thunder

Who am I?
Asked my father
The answers i got....
Deviates from one another....
I thought of me and I
But they was the other....
My self
Hidden behind the shelf
Taking orders like an elf
Pointy ears
Strange fears
I heard
All in my head

Who am I in your eyes?🌹

I don’t know why but
I feel I’m always up at these late hours
deeply thinking
as I stare into the black abyss of my room
my mind is at rest but also at work
random thoughts seem to flood
will my semester be good?
will I make them proud?
will I achieve my goals?
will I be okay in the end?
questions upon questions
my inner thoughts
coming out in the dark

Can I be the sun ray,
that brightens in many ways,
of the day that shines through,
all natural and ever glowing.

Can I be the cuckoo song,
that sets a tune without grammar,
of the lilting music to deaf ears,
all soothing and wonder inducing.

Can I be the thought,
that worships another thought,
of the superior one that I believe in,
all powerful and hope filling.

Can I be the rocky mountain,
that stands tall without emotion,
trapping the dark clouds in its arms,
ever calm and meaningfully inspiring.

Can I be the fancy mirror,
that shows my reflection without a bias,
keeping its judgment to itself,
so, I can answer finally, “who am I?”?