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Michael R Burch Apr 2020
by Michael R. Burch

I did it out of pity.
I did it out of love.
I did it not to break the heart of a tender, wounded dove.

But gods without compassion
ordained: "Frail things must break!"
Now what can I do for her shattered psyche’s sake?

I did it not to push.
I did it not to shove.
I did it to assist the flight of indiscriminate Love.

But gods, all mad as hatters,
who legislate in all such matters,
ordained that everything irreplaceable shatters.

Keywords/Tags: Love, compassion, pity, heart, break, tender, wounded, dove, gods, command, mad, hatters, legislate, sorrow, destruction
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
I Have a Yong Suster
(anonymous Medieval English riddle-poem, circa 1430)
translation by Michael R. Burch

I have a young sister
Far beyond the sea;
Many are the keepsakes
That she sent me.

She sent me the cherry
Without any stone;
And also the dove
Without any bone.

She sent me the briar
Without any skin;
She bade me love my lover
Without longing.

How should any cherry
Be without a stone?
And how could any dove
Be without a bone?

How should any briar
Be without a skin?
And how could I love my lover
Without longing?

When the cherry was a flower,
Then it had no stone;
When the dove was an egg,
Then it had no bone.

When the briar was unborn,
Then it had no skin;
And when a maiden has her mate,
She is without longing!

This poem was sung in the movie "Animal House" by a college troubadour played by Stephen Bishop. A toga-clad John Belushi destroyed his guitar! Keywords/Tags: riddle, medieval, Middle English, young, sister, cherry, stone, dove, bone
Lili Gudewicz Mar 2020
I don’t believe in true love,
for it leaves just like a dove.
He ***** his wings and **** he’s gone
he leaves nothing, not even a song.
Love doesn’t fill my heart with joy.
Love makes me bend until i break like a toy.
He doesn’t love you like you think,
so let your blood poor out into the sink.
Darling, he doesn’t care.
Just don’t forget, never leave your arms bare.
The scars are larger than his love,
now go to heaven on his dove.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Such Tenderness
by Michael R. Burch

for the mothers of Gaza

There was, in your touch, such tenderness—as
only the dove on her mildest day has,
when she shelters downed fledglings beneath a warm wing
and coos to them softly, unable to sing.

What songs long forgotten occur to you now—
a babe at each breast? What terrible vow
ripped from your throat like the thunder that day
can never hold severing lightnings at bay?

Time taught you tenderness—time, oh, and love.
But love in the end is seldom enough ...
and time?—insufficient to life’s brief task.
I can only admire, unable to ask—

what is the source, whence comes the desire
of a woman to love as no God may require?

Keywords/Tags: Gaza, mothers, touch, tenderness, dove, shelter, wing, coos, sings, babies, fledglings, love, god
TS Ray Mar 2020
She was from the skies,
naturally beautiful and wise,
knowing her would be an everlasting prize,
of the kind that you don’t need to think twice.

She worked many a long hour,
I watered her emotions like a flower,
her light blue eyes had that power,
showering me with a new high like I was in some ivory tower.

Few months went by,
I got to meet her up on the sky,
she had found her old love,
I had met my peaceful lady dove.

Go, fly high!
TS. 2020.
Keiya Tasire Mar 2020
Within of each  of us
There sounds a call!
The key within the keyhole
Quietly hoping we will notice.

Are we curious?
Do we wonder?
What are the secret notes?
Calling us from the wind?
Yet whispering to us from within.

The corridors seem lonely
Am I the only one standing
Alone in this great hall?

The fear is a lump pounding in my throat.
To turn the key and open the door
What is on the other side?
Everyone has run away
So  quickly, they are nowhere to be found.

Where do I go?
Why did they hide?
Quietly, I wonder.
Yet an Angelic chorus
Sings, "Come Follow Me!!"
In six part harmony.
It is calming.
I desire to taste its sweetness.

I turned the key
Stepping through the open door
What stood before me
I had never seen before!
It is a tree!
Seven Roots and Seven Branches!
As old as the earth itself!

In amazement, I stood,
looking high into the sky
To the very top of the tree
Soaring into Heaven Most High.

What can this be?
Is there a rhyme or reason?
I see only a tree!
Or is it?!

The song continued
It's sweet melody growing
Closer and closer.
Flapping white wings
Fluttering from branch to branch
A beautiful white Dove
Sings her melodic  enchanting song.
Each note embracing my heart
With love, peace and understanding.
Oh the Beauty!
The rapture and the peace!  

The flowing Love between
Opened my eyes to the wonders
Of all the beautiful stars shining
Within each galaxy
Upon her golden crown.

Oh how, I had longed for such an embrace!
As the tide hugs the shores
and the sea kisses the horizon.
Gently her touch
Caressed my face.

She is so familiar
For my body, was born of her body
My eyes, born of her eyes.
My ears, my muscles, and sinuses
Born of her ears, her muscles, and sinuses.
From her I have come.
To her I will return.  
The Amma of my  Spirit,
My beautiful Dove!
This is about personal spiritual growth and progression within "The Light." Mother Earth is the mother of each physical body on the earth. We are all made of her soil, water, air, and elements. When we look into another earthling's eyes we are also seeing a our mother through the other earthling.  In this piece, the Dove's symbolism is the same as the Early Essenes beliefs about the Dove, Mother Earth and our connection to both; finding our resting place within the arms of Mother Earth.
Em MacKenzie Feb 2020
This seed I’ve been tending and grooming,
sadly it misses the sun these days.
Yet I catch the vibrant flowers sprout and blooming,
it’s the strength not the amount of rays.
I’m not afraid to graze the dirt,
I need to reassure it’s fully hydrated,
softly brush the petals, I’d never see it hurt,
I could be offered palm and money trees but I’d never trade it.

Bringing life into each room
and in the darkest pits it provides a shine,
My heart beats start to rapidly boom,
you know that I know it will all be fine.

I buried a time capsule within my chest
though it was defined by a single memory,
I’m not absent minded just it was the best,
changing and morphing but it’s you constantly.
I’m not afraid to lose sight,
both literally and metaphorically,
as long as I can absorb this all day and night
It’s really the only thing that’s important to me.

Bringing light into the world
illuminating each route and sign,
diamond in the rough and deep sea pearl,
you know that I know it will all be fine.

For if she ever wishes for the moon,
I’ll bring down the whole galaxy,
and a second is just too long and not too soon,
she beats my heart and the air that I breathe.

And if she ever craves the stars,
I’d burn my hands to grasp though they reside in her eyes,
they’re the only thing that shines brighter than this love of ours,
and though her name is of the sea I see it etched in the skies.

I know I am stained with darkness and that itself makes me a crow,
and she’s the pinnacle of light and peace and that dawns her the place of dove.
And while we drive ourselves insane, we can’t deny fate and what we know,
that the dictionary has made a mistake,
darling, we are the true definition of love.
For her and only her.
Rimsha Afreen Feb 2020
Birds drop dead at my feet
I don’t know- if to die myself, or to give them life.

Now I know that heaved wings look like
Grey snows melting into each other

Life vaporizes from the summer sky
As a wounded dove trembles in my lap
Chris Saitta Feb 2020
Polyurethanized love,
Polyols and isocyanates
And one part dove.
Ashlyn Yoshida Feb 2020
Broken wings and ****** feathers
the grey dove tries to fly once more
It feels as if it's being pulled in one direction
And being unable to follow the leash
It watches forlornly as the others around it
the ones who had been broken by the same thing
take flight
but the little grey dove
isn't so sure if she's ready to take flight anymore
She's not sure who's fault it was.
The cat who broke her wings and threw her?
Or was it herself, for letting him do it?
The little grey dove
is waiting instead of doing
She knows that time can heal her wounds.
But perhaps the bone is broken
too far up.
Perhaps she'll never fly again.
No one comes to keep her company through out the months
she's made a small refuge, a place to sleep
a place to heal
But every once in a while
A newly white dove comes by
with a bent feather of her friends
evidence that the cat is still out there
While she sits
and heals
and does nothing.
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