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Isaac May 16
He doesn't need
To lie on his death bed
To celebrate
The simple gifts of life.

No matter what form
Or what size,
He celebrates.

Bystanders watch,
Jealous of his joy
Not knowing his secret
Open to all.

The grass is greener
On the side of who
Celebrates more than what
The other chooses to.
Written 16 May 2020
Please.
Could u find it in your heart
To give me back all those vulnerable moments?
Because I feel so stupid now
I feel stupid for going against every fiber of my being and exposing myself
For daring to say those things that come from a place so deep in my heart that it terrifies me.
Knowing that when they rise to the surface
When they escape the warmth of my chest and meet the warmth of the sun they become real
They become present
And tangible
And I need you to give them back because I regret it now
Because I dared to trust and you did exactly what I expected
Because I spent my life building walls and was so well protected
But I leapt
I dared to love fully and relentlessly
And I was all in so I put it in ink.
I put it in air
I put it in touch
I cemented it in time and space.
And I regret it.
I don't regret the relentless love but I regret letting it see the surface
I regret letting you see all those lisa Frank feelings.
So colorful and magical and childlike
And I'm embarrassed.
Cause in the end you didnt deserve it
But now it's yours
And for the rest of your life you have the privilege of those memories that were birthed from a trust you betrayed
You'll get to look back and see how much I loved you
How hard I loved you
And I'll always see how it was too much
I'll always be mad that I went all in
Yet it wasn't enough for you to go all in for me
Staggering inequity
Now how will I dare to trust again?
How will I not temper the reckless abandon that makes it so exciting?
Love Is easy,
But taking that love. Those words. Those memories
and giving it matter
Depth
Sound
Touch
Color
That's a gift. It's the purest art.
So please just give them back so I can protect it better next time.
I think
Next time I'll just keep love in my heart.
Don Bouchard May 5
A week or so
After the funeral,
The interment of ashes,
The settling of accounts,
The realization of continuing sighs,
We helped Mom empty
Things you left behind.

Shirts and pants,
Jackets, shoes,
The quiet, worn things
Left by a man who
Said little,
Worked hard,
Saved earnings,
Lived generously.

At the bottom of your dresser drawer,
Lay wool socks, leather gloves
We kids had given you
Father's days, Christmases,
(Never birthdays),
You'd put away for some other day....

I remember your telling me,
"I don't need anything!"
And maybe you didn't....
But we did.
You gave us everything,
Including your life
In the end.

Our feeble gifts
Lie waiting
For feet and hands
That that have gone away.
Thoughts about my Dad, now eight years gone....
Life, so full of gifts
Make sure you never forget
Always cherish them
Jay M Apr 28
They want to give you things
They want to waste time and effort all on you
And all for what?
Temporary enjoyment,
Lasting anywhere from a few minutes
To a few years
Even so -
It's so unnecessary, even wasteful
Of what they work for
What they could use to support themselves
Yet they waste it upon such things
For another
To see them smile
At least every once in a while.

- Jay M
April 28th, 2020
My mom asked me today what I wanted for my birthday. The problem is, I only want to see the people I care about and those that care about me, or maybe to go on a long walk. If not that then maybe camp out in the backyard, or board games with my siblings and parents for a couple of hours, or even just do some karaoke in the living room with my siblings and parents. Just not gifts - it feels like such a waste, because the person giving it to me could have used that money for food for themselves, or clothes, or house projects. But on me? It just seems like such a waste, and I just get this knot in my stomach when I think about it - it just seems wrong, because they had to use their time and effort to earn that money and they just use it on me.

Is it strange to feel this way about such a strange thing? Maybe I'll never know - but in the meantime, I'm hoping I'll just get nothing but kind words and wishes from people instead. ♡
Because She Craved the Very Best
by Michael R. Burch

Because she craved the very best,
he took her East, he took her West;
he took her where there were no wars
and brought her bright bouquets of stars,
the blush and fragrances of roses,
the hush an evening sky imposes,
moonbeams pale and garlands rare,
and golden combs to match her hair,
a nightingale to sing all night,
white wings, to let her soul take flight ...

She stabbed him with a poisoned sting
and as he lay there dying,
she screamed, "I wanted everything!"
and started crying.

Keywords/Tags: Female, lover, crave, best, gifts, presents, offerings, unsatisfied, demanding, tears, betrayal, backstabbing
Unfit Gifts
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

At sunrise, I cast my nets into the sea,
dredging up the strangest and most beautiful objects from the depths ...
some radiant like smiles, some glittering like tears, others flushed like brides’ cheeks.
When I returned, staggering under their weight, my love was relaxing in her garden, idly tearing leaves from flowers.
Hesitant, I placed all I had produced at her feet, silently awaiting her verdict.
She glanced down disdainfully, then pouted: "What are these bizarre things? I have no use for them!"
I bowed my head, humiliated, and thought:
"Truly, I did not contend for them; I did not purchase them in the marketplace; they are unfit gifts for her!"
That night I flung them, one by one, into the street, like refuse.
The next morning travelers came, picked them up and carted them off to exotic countries.

Keywords/Tags: Tagore, translation, Hindi, unfit, gifts, sunrise, nets, sea, depths, objects, smiles, tears, cheeks, love, lover, mistress, flowers, verdict, bizarre, refuse, trash, garbage, travelers, exotic
Let Me Give Her Diamonds
by Michael R. Burch

Let me give her diamonds
for my heart's
sharp edges.

Let me give her roses
for my soul's
thorn.

Let me give her solace
for my words
of treason.

Let the flowering of love
outlast a winter
season.

Let me give her books
for all my lack
of reason.

Let me give her candles
for my lack
of fire.

Let me kindle incense,
for our hearts
require

the breath-fanned
flaming perfume
of desire.

Keywords/Tags: Valentine, gifts, diamonds, roses, books, candles, incense, perfume, desire, love
If the only birds allowed to sing
Were the birds that sang the best
I’d find our woods a gloomy place
For I’d miss the songs of the rest

If all the plants across the world
Were those of most vibrant red
I’d ache for the varied colors
Which we now enjoy instead

And so it is with people too
We each have our inner light
My light may not be brightest
But still it dispels the night

My talents, gifts, and powers
Bring increased life to all I know
I’ll always let my light shine forth
So prosperity to all will flow
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Many years ago I heard the phrase, “If the only birds in the forests that sang in the forest were the ones that sang best, the forests would be very quiet.”  That one saying has really helped me to enjoy singing, and I sing every day!  I'm not the best, but I can still sing and it brings happiness to my life.  As I was pondering about that, I thought, “I could write a poem about that”
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