Sappho's Lullaby
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

Hushed yet melodic, the hills and the valleys
sleep unaware of the nightingale's call
as the dew-laden lilies lie
listening,
glistening...
this is their night, the first night of fall.

Son, tonight, a woman awaits you;
she is more vibrant, more lovely than spring.
She'll meet you in moonlight,
soft and warm,
all alone...
then you'll know why the nightingale sings.

Just yesterday the stars were afire;
then how desire flashed through my veins!
But now I am older;
night has come,
I'm alone...
for you I will sing as the nightingale sings.

Keywords/Tags: Sappho, lullaby, mother, mother and child, song, sing, singing, melancholic, hush, hushed, melodic, nightingale, lilies, night, fall, autumn, son, mother, lover, spring, moonlight, stars, flash, desire, pulse, veins, older, mature love, nurturing, calm, comforting

Reflex
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

Some intuition of her despair
for her lost brood,
as though a lost fragment of song
torn from her flat breast,
touched me there . . .

I felt, unable to hear
through the bright glass,
the being within her melt
as her unseemly tirade
left a feather or two
adrift on the wind-ruffled air.

Where she will go,
how we all err,
why we all fear
for the lives of our children,
I cannot pretend to know.

Keywords/Tags: mother bird, brood, nest, chicks, fledglings, children, kids, song, despair, protection, protective mother

But, O!,
how the unappeased glare
of omnivorous sun
over crimson-flecked snow
makes me wish you were here.

Keywords/Tags: mother, bird, brood, nest, chicks, fledglings, children, song, despair, protective

Chop n ***** it to bits
Just mix a little, then taste all da blenz
Dolby two sided cassette re-mix
Plastic record kinds, always my frendz
Trippin' like now, da way dat we do
Ya ***** nor crew just can't explain
Absolute phenomenal my man, whoa!
Leanin' on da switch, gave us instant fame

Doin' it on a regular, everyday
Even city folk can relate, in sum strange way
Slab kings rising from the dead
No motor, no nothin', nothin' but crew
Yellowstone candy, if dats wat ya fancy
Or black, bolly boyz, colored candy
Black sheriff riding *******, along da Southside
Giddy up, Giddy up, never you mind

Drinkin' drank, scissor or lean
Know dat we really can be mean
We in da ***** house, not in **** lockup
Get ya cups, then take a seat, backup
3'N da mornin' we ****
Sippin' on da syrup, smokin' on ya dope
Yo *****, Candy, lick it all up
Wat it does, is it gives da hood hope

honeybee
by michael r. burch

love was a little treble thing—
prone to sing
and (sometimes) to sting

Keywords/Tags: love, bee, honeybee, treble, song, sing, singer, sting, stinger, barb, poison

My thoughts will maim you like Kano
Thinking of the pain-o makes you start drinking the draino
Count your days bro
Time for a puzzle for your brain-o
What likes kit and kaboodle but not the rain-o
I’d tell you but you wouldn’t get it
Like tots listening to Coltrane-o or Jimmy Hendrix
I’ve gots one more question, use your noodle
Pay attention! Better stop picking at your cuticles
Some kids only get to draw yankee doodles
They tag along at home while they eating ramen noodles
Other kids go to games with the family poodle
In the booth they get to sing a song, the Yankee Doodle
  How much wealth do you think is in the bottom half?
  Only 1 percent belongs to most, the riff raff
  Inscribe that graph on my epitaph
  On my deathbed, I just want to hear my children laugh
Many fellas feign money through poverty
The reality of my situation doesn’t really bother me
I’m full of funny sayings like Plato and Socrates
Such catchphrases as hey baby **** on these!
I’m just kidding I would never-ever do that
I have a reputation as a forever-ever cool cat
Whose that? Is he a juul rat? How many tats?
Henry, no, and none. Now say where’s your daughter at?
The poor burn wealth about as much as anyone
Though some can’t easily earn health for they many sons
She turn tricks for her son’s Trix and lego bricks
But in the end we all churn the same River Styx
  How much wealth do you think is in the bottom half?
  Only 1 percent belongs to most, the riff raff
  Inscribe that graph on my epitaph
  On my deathbed, I just want to hear my children laugh
Rich and poor both drinking coca-cola
Stress and storm both scary like paranoia
I’m thinking there’s a little societal unrest
The greatest generation watched King Kong beat on his chest
I want to scream just like Ann Darrow
Yelp for help but the people’s views too narrow
The news only shows what the shiny shoes say to
Not much we can do, so we wait till they get their due
Nothings gonna happen if we don’t make it
So write in, call in, tweet in and even pray it
They won’t admit it if we can’t force them to say it
Our last hope’s revolution, they’re not outdated
  How much wealth do you think is in the bottom half?
  Only 1 percent belongs to most, the riff raff
  Inscribe that graph on my epitaph
  On my deathbed, I just want to hear my children laugh