months of articulate crafting
every curve
edge
splinter

shaved
she's beautiful.

just one more spot
one more nudge
make it perfect
what a beauty

make her part of my collection
front and center

but

one more curve
turns to another
correction
correction
correction

corrections turn to a revision
revision turns to a loss of the old
so perfect
but now so gone
goodbye old
hello new

too close to the sun
melting into the abyss

broken
handicapped
disposable


goodbye

Bury all my entrails.

Y otros deshielos,
Sin ningún cubrimiento
Literal o no,
Sin tumba de piedra
Ni flores ya matados
Para mi indulgencia.

En un bosque.

Tenero e silenzioso,
Ma della grandezza
Dell’Allah creato,

Al lado de un árbol
Que me elegirá
Por debajo de la tierra.

No coffin,
Priests,
City
Nor money.

Planter pépins
Et autres
Futures vies
Dans ma tombe pour que
Mon corps puisse alimenter
Ces pousses du sol.

Pour que les racines
Me donnent bienvenue
Chez ma Maison enfin
Et qu’elles
M’embrassent.

Spread into the world
All the tears & blades
Of my guilts & glories,
Publish one way or another
My mission/
Legacy/
Work to them
With due dedication
Said.

Don’t recall my intelligence
Or talent,
Rather all beauties I was
& gave life to,
My Passion in my
Chosen things,
My love,
Heraldry,
Striving for beating the measlyness
Of this world out of
Or in me,
My wisdom.

How I placed my eyes,
Poems and efforts upon you
And on this state of things’ world,
How Language, Literature,
Words, Dreams,
Tears and Art celebrated my
Days alongside me as true
People indeed.

How I fought shame and death,
Longed to make you feel
My gaze’s intensity on
(Or not) you,
How I kept facing lies
Of useless withering
Despite ingenuity of mine.

I shall finally embrace
Eywa/Allah/God/The Moon
And see if I was worth it all
In the end.
I will probably finally meet
My Lover dearest
To see if they were there after all
And kiss them with the greatest
Fervor I can muster.
I will become all those things
Lingering in the air
And coming to your gut
Knittances
When you sense
And as much suddenly
Can’t explain.

No more will I have to eat,
Sleep,
Be clothed (in muzzle)
Or wear shoes.
No more will anyone make me
Care about how my vessel
Looks like.

Join my departure,
All you
To whom I’ve ever mattered
More than casual,
Join my freedom.
Live, strive,
Breath at last,
Poetise,
Think, love, wonder/wander,
Feel, read, touch,
And literally kiss the
Trees, sky
And all sacralities you are in/on.

And if I hadn’t completed
My mission yet,
I’ll do what I can
To be back
And linger
To
Make
It.

Thank you.

Departure!

Raise the anchor
and raise the sail
Now the wind blows

Two compasses
inside of me
turn their lights on

The first one tells
where to go
by private signals

The second one
interprets the stories
from the sun, stars, sea, and the wind

Decoding the two 
from inner voice
and from the world

I decide
to turn the prow
adventure is there

How big the sea
Can't resist
the wind and waves in front

By drifting
and grounding
learned from the past

But being friends
with wind and waves
weaving own rhythm

New route appears
in each moment
to an unknown world

Seeing the land
lower the sail
and descend the anchor

Earth fertilises
the sailor's soul
to go back to the sea

You’re just like a balloon
That I wanted so dearly
Like a child so amused
With the feeling and its hues.

One day as I watch you
As distant as always,
I didn’t know it was the day
You’ll be wanting to stay.

I’m the child, you’re my balloon
We’ll forever stay in tune;
I dance with you under the sun,
I dream of you under the moon.

One day you flew away,
Another child wanted you to stay.
You left me, empty and lonely;
Feeling the mark from your string.

We bid each other farewell beside the hill,
Alas, the sun has flees.
Feeling the withered petal from plum blossom trees,
In spring, the grass will return,
But will my friend return?

In eastern hill, the lake is murky,
sky wearing crimson colour flurries.
There're rumors of a mysterious sage
Who could answer many worries.
I find I'm crowded full of parting's feelings,
Alas, he does not wish for healing.

Departed
by Michael R. Burch

Already, I miss you,
though your parting kiss is still warm on my lips.

Now the floor is not strewn with your stockings and slips
and the dishes are all put away.

You left me today . . .
and each word left unspoken now whispers regrets.

Keywords/Tags: divorce, parting, separation, departure, kiss, goodbye, farewell, leaving, gone, absent, absence, loneliness, alienation, isolation, unspoken, words, whispers, regrets, sadness, sorrow, despair

Each Color a Scar
by Michael R. Burch

What she left here,
upon my cheek,
is a tear.

She did not speak,
but her intention
was clear,

and I was meek,
far too meek, and, I fear,
too sincere.

What she can never take
from my heart
is its ache;

for now we, apart,
are like leaves
without weight,

scattered afar
by love, or by hate,
each color a scar.

Keywords/Tags: love, scar, cheek, tear, intention, departure, separation, meek, sincere, heartache, leaves, falling, scattered, color, blood, scab, scabs

The Pain of Love
by Michael R. Burch

for T. M.

The pain of love is this:
the parting after the kiss;

the train steaming from the station
whistling abnegation;

each interstate’s bleak white bar
that vanishes under your car;

every hour and flower and friend
that cannot be saved in the end;

dear things of immeasurable cost ...
now all irretrievably lost.

Note: The title “The Pain of Love” was suggested by an interview with Little Richard, then eighty years old, in Rolling Stone. He said that someone should create a song called “The Pain of Love.” I have always found the departure platforms of railway stations and the vanishing broken white bars of highway dividing lines to be terribly depressing. Keywords/Tags: pain, love, parting, kiss, train, whistle, departure, platform, interstate, dividing, line, hour, flower, friend, lost, cost