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when rhymes start poppin'
and beats start flowin'
it's probably a sign
that it's time to get going
maybe just maybe even

((( CAUSE A COMMOTION )))

Now
is the time
where the hero-self
starts bubbling up
which is the time to start stepping
stepping into the presence
stepping out of the prison
and into heaven.


You'll know cause
it be all
effervescing like:
pop, pop, pop

as you turn around, have a see
look up and down
at the old me
and let me confess

I don't like what I used to be

at the same time
we should also admit
that we love that man-boy too
cause he was me and he was you

You see:
he was an egocentric
and a pretender
who was never ever ever gonna be a contender
and let's realize
that to linger to long
is how our past pulls us out of song
:::
refuse to lose that ******
now turn front and centre
leg go
and just
trust, trust, trust

Getting wide awake on these energies?
Let's ride these waves (if you please)
now flow effortlessly
through gross machinations
until energies fizzle
and bond to the enormity
of post-structural Western conformity

I figure it's time
to unsettle debts:
Consternation? Plebiation? Colonization?
What about Subjugation?

:::: THE ONLY WAY OUT ::::
:::: SEEMS TO BE WITHIN ::::

What's wrong with the world today
is that we are sleepwalkin'
<through a lucid dream
of our own creation
while considering
life as profane>

Unfurl your flag
let the mystery free
rise up your fist and shout
Pleiades, Pleiades, I can hear you sing
It's time for us Humans
let's bring down that sweet thing

If you can't put your finger on what happens next
it goes something like this:

We've all been waiting for that
lighthouse bringer, that aetheric singer,
the someone who was willing to point the finger
we just didn't think it was going to be a ginger

Go back to sleep and when you awake
Maybe then you'll know
who's the medicine keeper

If you never learned nothing from Pablo Picasso
is that it ain't no fun being like a big *******

Just funnin' Pablo, don't take no offence
love it how you went swinging for fence
every time you woke up
to live in that moment
it's what you saw and
how you saw it
that makes me feel
~ raw, raw, raw ~

I tried to deconstruct your craft:
it deconstructed me
the only way out of that enigma
was to twist myself up into a new reality

And here
I am sitting
my flag unfurled
in my missed fortune
lost in-between
feeling unseen

A look in the mirror reveals a fractured self
a person separated from collective wealth:
Well **** this!

It.Is.Time.For.Health
Written August 2019
Revision February 2024

Spoken word version on Soundcloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/7BdAt

Some of what has been installed within:
Devin Ortiz May 2020
The Sun was a no show.
Raindrops begin to bead off the brim of my straw hat.
This beat continues until it slurs into a stream.
The thought to leave never crosses my mind.
Downpours are downright hypnotic, magic made real.
The eye of the heart opens to the rain's musical incantation.
And there it stands, the doorway to infinity.
Inside is surely unknown, but to have the great beyond exist,
within the turning of fingertips is unreality itself.
I suppose the power of this muse lies in its mystery.
Yet still, I forge endlessly onward to annihilate the enigma of it all.
I'm sitting here, in the rain, watching these words turn about.
Wither Bloodfall May 2020
So you peered into my mind
Are you treating this as a joke
Are you here to feast on my imperfections?
Or perhaps you’re searching for my misdirections

They’res nothing there for you
Since the beginning, I’ve been empty
Even the moments I've smiled
They were all augmented

It’s amusing really
What you thought i was
Was probably a lie
Comedy to my ears

Alas i cannot laugh
I cannot chuckle
Not even a giggle
Nor a smile

In this world lies a few things
Seven swords
Broken dreams
And a rose

With each petal that sheds
From the rose, is a moment
Of my self-existence
That has been changed

On the ground there lies
One single monochrome petal
But it’s one you cannot pick up
For once you do

You’ll fade, it’ll fade
From me, from your hands
And once I, once you
Forget it all, remember it’s color
I will see, you’ll be blind to
Why you tried, why i lied

For me, to you.

That color..
Ahnaf Apr 2020
Her eyes ostensibly dreary,
her melancholy stride
fell as gently as a dead leaf in fall.
To me, it is no surprise,
There was no way I could know her mind,
but I never thought to try

I'm a run of the mill guy,
waiting for rain to sedate
this blistering heat of a midday in summer.
My nerves rattle my calm,
and later today when I have my lonely supper,
I will remember to unhinge myself,
for it has been a busy day,
full of bickering and monotone machinery

No I don't hope anyone was by my side,
least of all her,
What would I even say?

I do not want to ask about her day,
If anything, I would sink into a pool of shame
Screaming for the drowning jingle jangle of cafes,
the silent companionship of an ashtray,
but a silent person like her is anything but.

These evenings go by with relative ease,
I slip under the rug thoughts that should cease to exist,
although I think about her sometimes when I sleep,
I've found there is a comforting distance, between life and fantasy.
The Foodie One Apr 2020
You were
my Sin
And my
Redemption -

All
at once.

Was it
a Miracle?

That, I still question.

- unholy pleasure -
© 13/04/20
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Enigma
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

O, terrible angel,
bright lover and avenger,
full of whimsical light
and vile anger;
wild stranger,
seeking the solace of night,
or the danger;
pale foreigner,
alien to man, or savior.

Who are you,
seeking consolation and passion
in the same breath,
screaming for pleasure, bereft
of all articles of faith,
finding life
harsher than death?

Grieving angel,
giving more than taking,
how lucky the man
who has found in your love,
this—our reclamation;
fallen wren,
you must strive to fly
though your heart is shaken;
weary pilgrim,
you must not give up
though your feet are aching;
lonely child,
lie here still in my arms;
you must soon be waking.

Published by mojo risin’ magazine and in the poetry collection O, Terrible Angel. Keywords/Tags: Enigma, human, angel, paradox, light, dark, alien, savior, faith, passion, pilgrim, child
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Circe
by Michael R. Burch

She spoke
and her words
were like a ringing echo dying
or like smoke
rising and drifting
while the earth below is spinning.
She awoke
with a cry
from a dream that had no ending,
without hope
or strength to rise,
into hopelessness descending.
And an ache
in her heart
toward that dream, retreating,
left a wake
of small waves
in circles never completing.

Originally published by Romantics Quarterly

Keywords/Tags: Circe, enigma, enigmatic, enchantress, siren, enchanted, witch, goddess, magic, Ulysses, pigs, sty



Moon Lake
by Michael R. Burch

Starlit recorder of summer nights,
what magic spell bewitches you?
They say that all lovers love first in the dark...
Is it true?
Is it true?
Is it true?

Starry-eyed seer of all that appears
and all that has appeared—
What sights have you seen?
What dreams have you dreamed?
What rhetoric have you heard?

Is love an oration,
or is it a word?
Have you heard?
Have you heard?
Have you heard?

I believe I wrote this poem in my late teens, during my “Romantic Period.”



Tomb Lake
by Michael R. Burch

Go down to the valley
  where mockingbirds cry,
  alone, ever lonely . . .
  yes, go down to die.
And dream in your dying
  you never shall wake.
  Go down to the valley;
  go down to Tomb Lake.
Tomb Lake is a cauldron
  of souls such as yours —
  mad souls without meaning,
  frail souls without force.
Tomb Lake is a graveyard
  reserved for the dead.
  They lie in her shallows
  and sleep in her bed.

I believe this poem and "Moon Lake" were companion poems, written around my senior year in high school, in 1976. In addition to having similar titles, they had similar "staircase" indention styles. According to my notes, I modified "Moon Lake" two years later in 1978, at which time the poem was substantially finished. I then modified "Tomb Lake" in 1981, but must have forgotten about it, because I don't show that I ever submitted the poem for publication or did anything with it for more than 40 years. Keywords/Tags: Moon, Lake, Lakes, Water, Reflection, Reflections, Image, Imagery, Mirror, Magic, Magician, Seer, Prophet, Shaman, Spell, Spells, Enchantment, Sorcery, Bewitchment, Bewilderment, Incantation, Rhapsody, Love Talk, Love Potion
Chrissy Ade Nov 2019
I was born a walking contradiction
Destined to be misunderstood by others
I am quiet in places where I should be loud
Shaking the ground so it caves and swallows in
But I am also loud in places I should be quiet
Breaking the walls before listening to their stories
I blend myself to fit into places where I don't belong
And I belong in places where I cannot blend
I'm the puzzle piece you can't quite figure out
But you hope to come back to someday
I am difficult to figure out, a perplexing individual
I am an enigma, a mystery you can never solve
Don't try to figure me out, I haven't even figured myself out.
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