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Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Cycles
by Michael R. Burch

I see his eyes caress my daughter’s *******
through her thin cotton dress,
and how an indiscreet strap of her white bra
holds his bald fingers
in fumbling mammalian awe . . .

And I remember long cycles into the bruised dusk
of a distant park,
hot blushes,
wild, disembodied rushes of blood,
portentous intrusions of lips, tongues and fingers . . .

and now in him the memory of me lingers
like something thought rancid,
proved rotten.
I see Another again—hard, staring, and silent—
though long-ago forgotten . . .

And I remember conjectures of ***** lines,
brief flashes of white down bleacher stairs,
coarse patches of hair glimpsed in bathroom mirrors,
all the odd, questioning stares . . .

Yes, I remember it all now,
and I shoo them away,
willing them not to play too long or too hard
in the back yard—
with a long, ineffectual stare

that years from now, he may suddenly remember.

Keywords/Tags: cycles, youth, puberty, teenagers, ***, lust, desire, daughter, father, chastity, virginity, abstinence
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Martial "Erotion" translations

Epitaph for the Child Erotion
by Marcus Valerius Martial
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lie lightly on her, grass and dew ...
So little weight she placed on you.

I created this translation after the Nashville Covenant school shooting and dedicated it to the victims of the massacre.

Erotion (I)
by Martial
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To you, my departed parents, dear mother and father,
I commend my little lost angel, Erotion, love’s daughter.
who died six days short of completing her sixth frigid winter.
Protect her now, I pray, should the chilling dark shades appear;
muzzle hell’s three-headed hound, less her heart be dismayed!
Lead her to romp in some sunny Elysian glade,
her devoted patrons. Watch her play childish games
as she excitedly babbles and lisps my name.
Let no hard turf smother her softening bones; and do
rest lightly upon her, earth, she was surely no burden to you!

Erotion (II)
by Martial
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To you, my departed parents, with much emotion,
I commend my little lost darling, my much-kissed Erotion,
who died six days short of completing her sixth bitter winter.
Protect her, I pray, from hell’s hound and its dark shades a-flitter;
and please don’t let fiends leave her maiden heart dismayed!
But lead her to romp in some happy Elysian glade
with her cherished friends, excitedly lispingly my name.
Let no hard turf smother her softening bones; and do
rest lightly upon her, earth, she was such a slight burden to you!
—Martial, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

NOTES: Martial wrote this touching elegy for a little slave girl, Erotion, who died six days before her sixth birthday. The poem has been nominated as Martial’s masterpiece by L. J. Lloyd and others. Erotion means “little love” and may correspond to our term “love child.” It has been suggested that Erotion may have been Martial’s child by a female slave. That could explain why Martial is asking  his parents’ spirits to welcome, guide and watch over  spirit. Martial uses the terms patronos (patrons) and commendo (commend); in Rome a freed slave would be commended to a patron. A girl freed from slavery by death might need patrons as protectors on the “other side,” according to Greek and Roman views of the afterlife, where the afterworld houses evil shades and is guarded by a monstrous three-headed dog, Cerberus. Martial is apparently asking his parents to guide the girl’s spirit away from Cerberus and the dark spirits to the heavenly Elysian fields where she can play and laugh without fear. If I am correct, Martial’s poem is not just an elegy, but a prayer-poem for protection, perhaps of his own daughter. Albert A. Bell supports this hypothesis with the following arguments: (1) Martial had Erotion cremated, a practice preferred by the upper classes, (2) “he buried her with the full rites befitting the child of a Roman citizen,” (3) he entrusted her [poetically] to his parents, and (4) he maintained her grave for years.

Keywords/Tags: Martial, translation, Latin, Erotion, daughter, slave, six years old, turf, bones, earth, burden, patrons, shades



Coq au vin
by Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you merely an éclair to the greedy?

2.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you **** Amaro to the greedy?

Amaro is an after-dinner liqueur thought to aid the digestion after a large meal.

3.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you an aperitif to the greedy?

4.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but they’re pimps to the seedy.

Ad cenam invitant omnes te, Phoebe, cinaedi.
mentula quem pascit, non, ****, purus **** est.

These are my modern English translations of Latin poems by the English monk Gildas. Gildas, also known as Gildas Sapiens (“Gildas the Wise”), was a 6th-century British monk who is one of the first native writers of the British Isles we know by name. Gildas is remembered for his scathing religious polemic De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae (“On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain” or simply “On the Ruin of Britain”). The work has been dated to circa 480-550 AD.

“Alas! The nature of my complaint is the widespread destruction of all that was good, followed by the wild proliferation of evil throughout the land. Normally, I would grieve with my motherland in her travail and rejoice in her revival. But for now I restrict myself to relating the sins of an indolent and slothful race, rather than the feats of heroes. For ten years I kept my silence, I confess, with much mental anguish, guilt and remorse, while I debated these things within myself...” — Gildas, The Ruin of Britain, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gildas is also remembered for his “Lorica” (“Breastplate”):

“The Lorica of Loding” from the Book of Cerne
by Gildas
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Trinity in Unity, shield and preserve me!
Unity in Trinity, have mercy on me!

Preserve me, I pray, from all dangers:
dangers which threaten to overwhelm me
like surging sea waves;
neither let mortality
nor worldly vanity
sweep me away from the safe harbor of Your embrace!

Furthermore, I respectfully request:
send the exalted, mighty hosts of heaven!
Let them not abandon me
to be destroyed by my enemies,
but let them defend me always
with their mighty shields and bucklers.

Allow Your heavenly host
to advance before me:
Cherubim and Seraphim by the thousands,
led by the Archangels Michael and Gabriel!

Send, I implore, these living thrones,
these principalities, powers and Angels,
so that I may remain strong,
defended against the deluge of enemies
in life’s endless battles!

May Christ, whose righteous Visage frightens away foul throngs,
remain with me in a powerful covenant!

May God the Unconquerable Guardian
defend me on every side with His power!

Free my manacled limbs,
cover them with Your shielding grace,
leaving heaven-hurled demons helpless to hurt me,
to pierce me with their devious darts!

Lord Jesus Christ, be my sure armor, I pray!

Cover me, O God, with Your impenetrable breastplate!

Cover me so that, from head to toe,
no member is exposed, within or without;
so that life is not exorcized from my body
by plague, by fever, by weakness, or by suffering.

Until, with the gift of old age granted by God,
I depart this flesh, free from the stain of sin,
free to fly to those heavenly heights,
where, by the grace of God, I am borne in joy
into the cool retreats of His heavenly kingdom!

Amen
Empire Mar 2020
When I’m around you
I feel restricted
I’m tethered to your needs
I’m not myself when you’re around
Your happiness makes me sick
But promises you’ll be docile a bit longer

You have trained me
Groomed me
Into whatever little creature you wanted
I am exactly what you want
When you’re around
And that’s why
You will never know me
You don’t deserve to know your daughter
Not when you’ve done this to her
You’ve imprisoned her
Locked away everything that belonged to her
Pried open every innocent secret
Assuming malice
She never knew privacy
Except within her own head
So now, that’s where she lives
She’s trapped
And it’s your ******* fault
Max Neumann Mar 2020
all the years of longing
all the tears and wronging
all your suffering girl
all your strength girl

you haven't been sure
it hasn't been easy:
dial his number and call him?
ignore your deepest fears

mom told you not to (not to!)
bro told you not to (not to!)
everybody said so (said so!)
you weren't listen (you weren't!)

he didn't pick up the phone
should you try it again?
you're a keen and focussed girl
so you did (so you did!)

a female's voice on the other line
"he ain't there now try again in..."
a man's voice in the background yelling
"no way to talk to your father, girl"

no surrender! never give up!
life is like push-ups feel me?
life is fighting nothing else feel me?
never give up! call him again!

finally you made it: he picked up
shivering sentences spoken
a long talk of fear and longing
he wouldn't ask you anything

dad made clear you're no daughter of his
he remained distant no smile no joy
you remain distant no smile no joy
you're no daughter of his (of his!)
Today is a long day.
Kimmy Mar 2020
As I ponder the love that I see in his eyes,
A Godly love, given without compromise....
I recall many times that he stood by my side,
And prodded me on with great vigor and pride.

His voice ever confident, firm and yet fair,
Always speaking with patience, tenderness and care.
The power and might of his hands was so sure,
I knew there was nothing we couldn't endure.

It's true, a few others provided insight,
Yet, he laid the foundation that kept me upright.
He's the grandest of men to have lived on this earth,
Although he's not royal by stature or birth.

He's a man of great dignity, honor and strength.
His merits are noble, and of admirable length.
He's far greater than all other men that I know,
He's my Dad, he's my mentor, my friend and my hero 😍😍❤️❤☺️☺️️😘😘👌🏻💯
This poem is for my dad. He has been the best dad the only dad.
Jieun Mar 2020
Why can't I
be your perfect
daughter

the daughter
you always wanted
and will always be proud
to have

instead i was the
daughter
you regret keeping

i became the
daughter
you feel ashamed
to call your own
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
for the evening she wore rogue

the color of forever

which he casually kissed off

as if of no consequence

what she now wears

is moment to moment

and belongs to the morning

where her blush must be earned

daddy always told her

she was worth nothing less
Nigdaw Mar 2020
it is strange to see
irregular lines scrawled
across the page
in some small way I made them
helped to shape from where they came
then it slowly dawned on me
they could be better than anything
I have ever penned to page
EP Robles Mar 2020
i

What spirit imbue that flesh
a love as thy mother in her best
twinkle eye too, heart of gold
that mystic flair balance dew
upon the blade of green-soothe
And touch thy father's heart, too!

ii

And thou tend to good deeds
that love and life bequeath all
a fire and tender twinkle too
thy father so joyous tears sing
and moon and bird-song along
shall forever follow you!

iii

Her lovely grace in turmoil-say
and his heart too shall always beat
for you the world and all its gifts
not of gold or position in world
but that tender spot angels dance
that room which first I met you

:: 03-24-2014 ::
For my daughter; my first-born.  The love of my life and my two sons too! <3
Antino Art Feb 2020
I feel like we are in
an old Hayao Miyazaki movie.
I suspect we are hand-drawn people
hunched over hand-spun milkshakes from a classic American diner
like Culver's burgers and fries.

I imagine the real me
has fallen asleep on a couch
in front of a microwaved dinner
somewhere in the distant future.
I think I was watching
the snow
fall outside the window
like static on a TV screen.

I could have been watching
the same Saturday morning
on loop,
walking in frames
to the same diner we've been going to since you were five.

There, we meet for breakfast
by the window.
Your hand is drawn wearing a gold wedding ring. I smile behind a silver beard.
Though it's hard to recognize our faces,
we say things that sound familiar

something about
how our favorite
Hayao Miyazaki movies
illustrated the passage of
time
through the eyes of a child

You order a kids meal
with a milkshake
in a classic re-enactment of
the days
I thought would
never end.
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