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Michael R Burch Apr 2020
To a Louse
by Robert Burns
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hey! Where're you going, you crawling hair-fly?
Your impudence protects you, barely;
I can only say that you swagger rarely
Over gauze and lace.
Though faith! I fear you dine but sparely
In such a place.

You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder,
Detested, shunned by both saint and sinner,
How dare you set your feet upon her—
So fine a lady!
Go somewhere else to seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Off! around some beggar's temple shamble:
There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble,
With other kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now hold you there! You're out of sight,
Below the folderols, snug and tight;
No, faith just yet! You'll not be right,
Till you've got on it:
The very topmost, towering height
Of miss's bonnet.

My word! right bold you root, contrary,
As plump and gray as any gooseberry.
Oh, for some rank, mercurial resin,
Or dread red poison;
I'd give you such a hearty dose, flea,
It'd dress your noggin!

I wouldn't be surprised to spy
You on some housewife's flannel tie:
Or maybe on some ragged boy's
Pale undervest;
But Miss's finest bonnet! Fie!
How dare you jest?

Oh Jenny, do not toss your head,
And lash your lovely braids abroad!
You hardly know what cursed speed
The creature's making!
Those winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice-taking!

O would some Power with vision teach us
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notions:
What airs in dress and carriage would leave us,
And even devotion!

One Sunday while sitting behind a young lady in church, Robert Burns noticed a louse roaming through the bows and ribbons of her bonnet. The poem "To a Louse" resulted from his observations. The poor woman had no idea that she would be the subject of one of Burns' best poems about how we see ourselves, compared to how other people see us at our worst moments. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, louse, church, bonnet, lace, Scotland, Scots, dialect, translation
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
The Secret of Her Clothes
by Michael R. Burch

The secret of her clothes
is that they whisper a little mysteriously
of things unseen

in the language of nylon and cotton,
so that when she walks
to her amorous drawers

to rummage among the embroidered hearts
and rumors of pastel slips
for a white wisp of Victorian lace,

the delicate rustle of fabric on fabric,
the slightest whisper of telltale static,
electrifies me.

Published by Erosha, Velvet Avalanche (Anthology) and Poetry Life & Times

Keywords/Tags: clothes, lingerie, nylon, cotton, amorous, drawers, slips, lace, static, electricity, mystery, mysterious
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Are You the Thief
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

When I touch you now,
O sweet lover,
full of fire,
melting like ice
in my embrace . . .

when I part the delicate white lace,
baring pale flesh,
and your face
is so close
that I breathe your breath
and your hair surrounds me like a wreath . . .

tell me now,
O sweet, sweet lover,
in good faith . . .
are you the thief
who has stolen my heart?

Originally published as “Baring Pale Flesh” by Poetic License/Monumental Moments

Keywords/Tags: Love, lover, touch, fire, ice, melting, embrace, white, lace, flesh, face, breath, hair, wreath, faith, thief, heart, ******, erotica
trf Mar 2020
sewing time together,
we scribe our narrative,
your lace stitches leather,
like a seamstress.

failures don't forget me,
i'm their stone to engrave,
designed imperfections
and a chiseled face.

close enough to notice,
constellations are yarn,
unthreading in the distance,
these days seam apart.
Ilonka Mar 2019
Shadows play pirouettes in my soul
and they reveal unwritten secrets,
the taste of love is lost in a whisper.

I'd like to be your tough wool jacket
that you wear in all the seasons,
you hang me on the half-broken hanger
only when you go to sleep in the middle of the night,
then I smile at you in the morning
when you take me out of the darkness.
  
I'd like to wear you like my favorite shirt
made of mulberry silk with fine lace buttons,
to feel you at my chest and dance with you
the dance of the common days,

I'd like like you to be the nectar of the Manuka flowers
from which I could feed for the whole year
then I would fly in search of the sunset,

I'd like to be your footprint
on the wet sand of the hot sea
that would take me away in distant worlds,
I'd like to…
Pyrrha Jan 2019
He's cast himself into my memories like a curse, a hex
He's a demon sent to taunt me
A ghost meant to haunt me

I tear away only to be pulled back once again
Like the waves of the ocean are controlled by the moon
He takes control of my willpower pulling me back to him, and away from me

He ties lace around his words
Glitter falling off every syllable
Black glitter to trick your eyes

His lovely lace wraps around my throat
Consuming my thoughts
Trapping me in his silky spider web

Why is it so hard for me to leave
Something I know is not for me
When will I find my way back to me and finally

Escape
sushii Sep 2018
building up
want you
want me
scared
fear
want
desire
i don't get it
what is happening
hold my hand
and here we stand
taking on this land
so much love to be had
so much happiness that i am always glad
not enough sorrow to make you mad
no way our love will go bad
once in a while we are sad
you are lace-clad
with each layer you add
mindlessness will not stand
tie your hair back with a purple band
are you concealing yourself from this lucky young man?
and i thought i had you...


****.
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