Caveat
by Michael R. Burch

If only we were not so eloquent,
we might sing, and only sing, not to impress,
but only to enjoy, to be enjoyed.

We might inundate the earth with thankfulness
for light, although it dies, and make a song
of night descending on the earth like bliss,

with other lights beyond—not to be known—
but only to be welcomed and enjoyed,
before all worlds and stars are overthrown ...

as a lover’s hands embrace a sleeping face
and find it beautiful for emptiness
of all but joy. There is no thought to love

but love itself. How senseless to redress,
in darkness, such becoming nakedness . . .

Originally published by Clementine Unbound

Keywords/Tags: caveat, eloquent, eloquence, sing, enjoy, enjoyment, inundate, earth, thankfulness, praise, song, light, welcomed, enjoyed, enjoyment, bliss, joy, love



Caveat Spender
by Michael R. Burch

It’s better not to speculate
"continually" on who is great.
Though relentless awe’s
a Célèbre Cause,
please reserve some time for the contemplation
of the perils of EXAGGERATION.

Stephen Spender in his best-known poem wrote: "I think continually of those who were truly great." This near-limerick suggests that Spender may have exaggerated the time he devoted to hero worship. Keywords/Tags: caveat, spender, truly, great, think, continually, hero, worship, exaggeration, contemplation, awe, fawn, fawning

There’s a little bliss in this bottle
It’s hiding near the bottom
If I just... if I just keep drinking
Maybe I can find it...

Mustering courage, I stepped out my front door.
Awaiting a departure, my patience was poor;  
Your enticing eyes gleamed with gold.

I gazed upon your face, questioning my luck.

Beauty personified, you admired me back,
Elevating my pressure, I started to crack.

Your saunter carried such a passion in its wake,
Our eyes intertwined; happiness is its make.
Utopia is in our embracing, and it is ours to take.
Resting my head by yours, our affection was never fake.

Being connected with you is such bliss;
Other worlds are met with every kiss.
Your hand with mine, nothing’s better than this.
Forgetting any pain, my stress is remiss.
Roaming without you; a soul so amiss.
Inside my heart is you, with no abyss.
Ethereal is your beautiful eyes and lips.
Never in your presence will the Sun eclipse.
Daylight with you, Rachelle, is my eternal wish.

.
He wrote in the mornings, she recited to him at night,
He always made breakfast, she made dishes disappear,
His garb was quite frumpy, and hers, made of spun gold,
He struggled with fashion, song birds would dress her,
He thought his poems looked best in moving candlelight,
She made all the fires and lit candles with her eyes.
Once, he was embarrassed and said to her,
'How can you live like this with me in a hovel?'
She said it reminded her of Plato's Cave.
At readings he looked out and saw sinking eyes,
Now he has her read all his poems, it works
Wonders that way, and after-parties are strange,
Everyone keeps staring and asking for her
Name.  She gives cryptic answers and winks
At him.  The poet was running out of words
And thought his days with her were waning.
But she said her heart was kept in a precious
Box of symbols, of words, only he could write.  
She said that it was written in the sky, that poetry
Was dying and that he was the cure.  He told
Her that the stars were lost at night, and fading
While she sparkled unfailing, and many times
They tasted each others tears, many times
The world stopped spinning, he knew
It was her, she felt it was him.  To all
Others, their one bedroom flat was small,
Yet to them, it was the Palace Athene.
.

I sit in silence as the room fills with people.
People I know and people I've never seen.
My Uncle Mael walking back and forth. As he keeps looking at the doors we came in.
My Dad whispering to others while they "wailed" as he called it. Although I'm unsure what that means.
My older brother sitting beside me as he keeps looking at me with concern.
This older boy in a white coat. With this sad look on his face as he walks this way.
This lady whose all dressed up in a fancy dress with golden shoes.
Click. Click. Goes the metal of the ladies' shoes as they clashed with the grey tile.
Bing. ****. Goes the brown clock that hangs on the pale walls.
Hum. Hum. Goes the vents that lay resting on the floor.
Mumble. Grumble. Goes a fancy-dressed dressed man as he silently stares at the fancy-dressed lady.

What's going on here? A family gathering?

I was once a very respected man.
One of great importance and respect.
But, what's happened tonight for which I can only fault myself.
I can't continue to be that here tonight.
All these people are greatly grief-stricken.
Even those completely unaware as of yet.
So that is why I shall remain forever indebted to this family.
Catering to everyone. Even the smallest of children.

What's going on here? A party?

I'm not sure what to think here honestly.
I mean. I'm numb I guess. Am I broken because of this?
Probably not. I'm just not sad per se. Just worried.
Addey seems virtually unaffected by this.
She's probably blissfully unaware of what's happened.
Even as the gurneys flood the hallways.
I'm just concerned she'll catch on.
Her remaining blissfully unaware is for the best.

What's going on here? A movie?

My dear Maddie how I hope you're not mad.
I know that this isn't right nor wrong.
It shouldn't have gone this way.
I sh sh-should've been gone first.
I can't bring you back here.
I can't pick you up and carry you past the threshold of our house like I did when we were 20.
I can't stay up until 12:30 helping you with your degree while we ate popcorn and watched The Notebook.
I can promise you though. I'll watch Addey for you.
I'll make sure someone truthful will carry her across the threshold of her house.
I'll see she has memorable moments with all of us.
I won't let her or anyone forget you.

What's going on here? Why's everyone sad?

They say grief and trauma change a person.
Shapes who they are going forward.
It was my car that caused this.
My decision to wear these heels.
My decision to tell Alec to speed up.
My decision to tell Alec to run the red.
My decision to swerve right. Everything was my decision.
Therefore, I can’t decipher between what’s real and what’s not
And I will spend years trying to save the only good part of me.
I will make up for my decisions.
And forever say sorry to Maddie Le.

What's going on here? Why are we leaving?

Riding back to the house.
Everything looks so surreal.
Like this is our life.
Maddie used to be in this life.
Maddie Le used to be a person, but now she isn't.
And nobody around me seems to be aware of that.
That just 4 hours ago
Mael Watts's twin sister got hit at just 31.
Andy Le's wife got hit with him unscathed.
Braden Le is without a mother at just 16.
Addey Le an Innocent 4-year-old lost her mother.
And two people are plagued with guilt.
And yet nobody in the world reacts.

What's going on here? Why aren't we going home?

Uncle Mael? Dad? Braden?

"Where's Mommy at?"

"Don't worry Addey she'll be back. You just go to sleep."

Addey smiled before staring out the window.
As she looked into sparkled simplicity.

ice fire and the cryogene.
clear water with most love.
sprouting the finest being.
The god of love.earth.