a friend is someone who is there for another
who is considerate
who is kind
a friend is someone who is there for you through time
these are my instructions to you
for the next person you find

The lighthouse nearby
Steady, bright
Its light keeps sweeping through
My little life

Beams of instruction
Welcomed every time

As we flow imagining we motivate
our selves to go on,
crack the whip,
try oomph-ala
like… take and read the little book, or swallow
what you're told…

for any mind a thinking thing is companion,
welcome the strange
little light leading on,
for minded beings do not live by bread, alone.

Inside, we see alone.
Outside, I see all one. Am I enlightened,

I ask my closest confidant.
Ah, I utter

as a sigh, slack jawed awe, a we is made
right now --
me and thee, dear, dear reading being thinking

do you mind?
Did I capitalize on your confusion to stick
a point into a bubble you believed?

How would you know?
{1.
Omphalos is the hub of any bubble of being,
center of gravity, if I may
make that assertion
as certain as
may be in these days of knowledge expansion.
May is you word, now. You know.}

Instruction
by Michael R. Burch

Toss this poem aside
to the filigreed and the prettified tide
of sunset.

Strike my name,
and still it is all the same.
The onset

of night is in the despairing skies;
each hut shuts its bright bewildered eyes.
The wind sighs

and my heart sighs with her—
my only companion, O Lovely Drifter!
Still, men are not wise.

The moon appears; the arms of the wind lift her,
pooling the light of her silver portent,
while men, impatient,

are beings of hurried and harried despair.
Now willows entangle their fragrant hair.
Men sleep.

Cornsilk tassels the moonbright air.
Deep is the sea; the stars are fair.
I reap.

Originally published by Romantics Quarterly.

Keywords/Tags: instruction, sunset, night, skies, wind, sighs, moon, silver, portent, sea, stars

Listen to me now and heed my voice;
I am a madman, alone, screaming in the wilderness,
but listen now.

Listen to me now, and if I say
that black is black, and white is white, and in between lies gray,
I have no choice.

Does a madman choose his words? They come to him,
the moon’s illuminations, intimations of the wind,
and he must speak.

But listen to me now, and if you hear
the tolling of the judgment bell, and if its tone is clear,
then do not tarry,

but listen, or cut off your ears, for I Am weary.

*

Published by Penny Dreadful, The HyperTexts, the Anthologise Committee and Nonsuch High School for Girls (Surrey, England)

Also published by Michael R. Burch writing as Immanuel A. Michael and Kim Cherub

Keywords/Tags: Listen, heed, prophet, crying, wilderness, voice, prophecy, black, white, gray, moon, wind, speak, speaking, speech, instruction, teaching, warning, omen, illuminations, intimations, ears, hear, judgment, bell, toll, tolling, peal, pealing, tone, I, Am

Note: The poet as a “madman, alone, screaming in the wilderness” is likened to John the Baptist, foretelling a momentous “second coming”: his own, with no other Messiah in sight.

Selah, in this realm
means
pause. think. pause meaning, we agree, slow down,
focus,
extol, pay
attention based on worth ship possible to take
as granted, per se.

ya move toofastgottamockdemoanin'past foevah Jung.

were there no condemnation here,
could you abide?

Selah.
Y'see, we words form bubbles, in which we list
whither we will
in swirling mists of Swedenborgian beauty,
you can only imagine,

as winds return on circuits perpetual enough
for mortal bubble minds like ours.

Selah
For the players on ins
truements. Key of B, natural. lah lah lah la on an' on

whisperin' pine backin' old crow's caw.
This seems fine, f'now.

Selah some mo'

There are strange new worlds with an artificial sun
which have been created by people to have fun.
They're made up of things that we all do fear and love
where the main conditions are imitating those above.
The main characters are those whom you can choose
if in by doing so you fancy they won't lose.
Even when they do you can have another chance
provided that there's a better or improved stance.

The landscapes and creatures are so imaginative
and may come from a place that is very relative.
Some resemble those which are not readily seen
and aren't even like any where someone has been.
The challenge is to eventually reach the end;
along the way to find and make a real friend.
Many are the struggles one has to overcome
that can be so very overwhelming for some.

There are those people who just happen to breeze through
while some others get bogged down in all that they do.
The saying of “practice makes perfect” here does sound
very wise indeed for people that start to come around.
Time and self effort are the main ingredients needed here
and one's inner attitude to finish and reach the end is clear.
However there's no real sense of what that may really be
unless one gains true insight on the way and begins to see.

The sense of accomplishment is all the more justified when
everything falls into place and the puzzle is solved then.
But there are certain aspects that other people may dispute
which will depend on their own convictions if they refute.
There's also the situation where others don't clearly see
what's been realised by the one who at the end comes to be.
As very little is known about the goal which one can reach
except by those who are already there and willing to teach.

There are also certain manuals of instruction some others have left behind
which have been interpreted and commented on that are of a dubious kind.
Some of these seem to tackle the problem from a position along the way
while others go headlong and sink knee deep into semantics of the day.
Even those that are more widely accepted or universally read and known
don't really say enough or make clear what between their covers is shown.
This is the main reason that gets people thinking about the subject at hand
and to wonder if there's anything other than a fantasy vs reality made land.
__________________

> do not step in the fairy rings
> the neatly circle like mushrooms will call you to
> the fairy folk will dance you away laughing
> take you where one century passes in a minute

> don't do it
> stay away from the too bright meadows
> in the too silent forests

he steps in each and every circle he can find

he steps in them and closes his eyes

when nothing happens he steps out
and sighs

ah
*still the last one of my kind