they look at you with cold eyes
hard-set mouth and eyebrows rise
venom drips from their tongue
very coarse for one so young

so much anger within their soul
the glowing red embers of burning coal
they won't show weakness they won't show pain
they won't stop till their enemy's slain

that is what they show the world
fists clenched and eyebrows furled
they hide behind a tough guy charade
so no one can see them afraid

but ones you see past the mask
you'll be shocked and left to ask
why they are so nice and kind
but keep it all close, confined

An old man smiles and points the arrow
"you don't know they're just a sparrow."

The soul has as its sextant the ribs opened wide,
The heart its compass in fluid circuitous diatribe,
When each to zone the geometry of Greek sky  
With its powdery fabulism of centaurs and jars
From Aesop’s wine of words, the untimeliness
Of sundials to Charybdis’s bloom of giant watery eyes.

To know oceans by the dry riverbed of my pulse,
To scale only as high as the sparrow’s tomb of my heart.

One drop fell down, one followed more
Then my count failed, free downpour
From two cloudy eyes, tears wishes feet
My lone miseries, life's endless beat.

On my bay, a sweet sparrow sat
Flown from far, but resting at last
In his beak a thread, thin long
Kept his weight down, started a song .

Weary of singing, he looked over wings
In such small frame, life joyfully blinks
Then I spot his one-legged walk
How shameful my moans, how so dark!

Oh God, tiny wings evinced glee
In his woes, but a king in flee.

Xmas light angel sparkling bright
Walkin on the rooftops
Got someone in sight
Gunna flitter and flutter
All through the night
Eyeing a weary sparrow
till all is well
till all is right
till that lil sparrow
be ready to take flight

Bonnie Raitt &John Prine
Angel From Montgomery
Puyallup
4.24.20
jbm

Your ubiquity in my memory
has led me to miss
the fact you are now missed

in the day-glo green-yellow
gardens of eighties summers,
scattering mother’s pride,
you were overlooked in the search
for brighter birds
with better song

so I try to cherish the
rattle and chatter
of your extended family
alongside me now

no songs for me
to join your mourning
but your chip-chip banter
tells a cautionary tale

I’ll do my best to listen and learn
even as our own gardens dwindle

Alien Nation
by Michael R. Burch

for J. S. S., a "Christian" poet

On a lonely outpost on Mars
the astronaut practices “speech”
as alien to primates below
as mute stars winking high, out of reach.

And his words fall as bright and as chill
as ice crystals on Kilimanjaro —
far colder than Jesus’s words
over the “fortunate” sparrow.

And I understand how gentle Emily
felt, when all comfort had flown,
gazing into those inhuman eyes,
feeling zero at the bone.

Oh, how can I grok his arctic thought?
For if he is human, I am not.

Note: The coinage “grok” appears in Robert Heinlein’s classic sci-fi novel "Stranger in a Strange Land." The novel’s protagonist, Valentine Michael Smith, was raised on Mars by enlightened Martians, and he often feels out of sorts on Earth, where he struggles to grok (understand deeply and profoundly) earthlings and their primitive, often inhuman, ways. Keywords/Tags: Mars, astronaut, alien, primates, stars, words, ice, crystals, Jesus, sparrow, Emily, Dickinson, zero, bone, arctic, thought, human, inhuman

The sparrow has crossed my path
and I hope she'll stay
longer than a fleeting moment
so I may appreciate her beauty.

She came to me
as most Texas birds do
when you're quiet and alone.
But she was different, I'm sure.

She was vibrant,
not at all the dusty hues of the others
I had come to know.
She was bright and intricate.

The sparrow was free to roam
she was the epitome of freedom
and yet she chose to stay
singing by my side.

And she could have picked anyone,
that little yellow sparrow.
But she flew and sang around me
always appearing again.

I couldn't help but feel
that as quick
as she had appeared
she would leave again.

But the sparrow sang
and in her song
assured me
that she would do no such thing.

She was mesmerized
by me.
You can fly, and yet chose not to,
she said. Why is that?

You are as much a bird as I am,
she told me.
All you have to do
is let go.

I considered her words carefully
I had never flown before,
never thought that I could.
But for her, I did.