Duet, Minor Key
by Michael R. Burch

Without the drama of cymbals
or the fanfare and snares of drums,
I present my case
stripped of its fine veneer:
Behold, thy instrument.

Play, for the night is long.

Keywords/Tags: Duet, minor, key, cymbals, symbols, drums, fanfare, snares, instrument, play, ***, night, long, strip, ****, naked

Soft brittle days
distorted symbols and colors and noise
grieving music
I just don't fit in

Maybe it's something
i'm missing
that I will never have

maybe I wasn't made for
sunny days
maybe I was made for
laughter in the rain
maybe I was made for
bright pink umbrellas
maybe I was made for
bright red rain boots
maybe I was made for
bright yellow rain coats
maybe I was made for
gray days

Maybe it's something
i'm missing
that I will never have

Delightful frustrating week
every hour is Monday
I changed my hair
because I was tired of all the darkness
but could you draw the blinds?
the sun shines too bright
and I'm tired

three flowers in my vase
They all stand there in their place
One is white
One is red
And the last one is blue
When the sun touch my flowers
I see them dance
It’s from the sun they get their powers
But today I notice there’s a change
My blue flower seems sad
It has bent it’s back
The red one appears to be mad
it’s ready to attack
And my white flower is gone
I lost it yesterday by mistake
In the moment I lost it i thought it was fun
Oh dear lord what have I done


Two flowers in my vase
They both stand there in their place
One is red
And one is blue
When the sun touches my flowers
I see them dance
It’s from the sun they get their powers
But today I notice there’s a change
My blue flower has bloomed
Now it’s even more blue
My red flower is doomed
It’s color is gone, I swear it’s true
It is dead
It didn’t get a chance to live
I never had it with me in bed
Well they say love isn’t fun
But oh lord what have I done


One flower in my vase
It stands in it's place
One is blue
The sun can’t touch my flower
It’s the last one I’ve got
Without the two others it has all the power
This feeling isn’t what I thought
The blue flower is me
And I am the blue flower
But I let nobody see
Up I have build a tower
It has no door, window nor Stairs
I will never let you in
You killed my flowers
Now I’m blue

Weirdly wonderful caterpillars,
liquefy, transform, and reborn;
Wonderfully beautiful butterflies,
Who taught you how to do that?

Mother Nature, the mother of gaps;
Magical hand hides ignorance,
Misdirects from real question:
Why do we even ask at all?

Curiosity satiated we move on,
Forgetting blindness unremoved.
For if sighted, a new tongue to learn,
Mother Nature, the new alphabet.

As words in a strange tongue
So symbols in wisdom;
Not any sounds are words
Nor stories, parables;
But angelic tongues do speak
Even as donkeys are wise.

You crave and yet resist those things; that take you from what's good, 'till something better takes another other and seems again anew
How often times the image thought supreme to it's ideal
Tryin to change one to form another "other" that seems again anew
Are you another one of my symbols?
Is this another one of my images?
Archetypes they tell me and I'm somewhere in between