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by Michael R. Burch

There was a moment
  without the sound of trumpets or a shining light,
    but with only silence and darkness and a cool mist
      felt more than seen.
      I was eighteen,
    my heart pounding wildly within me like a fist.
  Expectation hung like a cry in the night,
and your eyes shone like the corona of a comet.

There was an instant . . .
  without words, but with a deeper communion,
    as clothing first, then inhibitions fell;
      liquidly our lips met
      —feverish, wet—
    forgotten, the tales of heaven and hell,
  in the immediacy of our fumbling union . . .
when the rest of the world became distant.

Then the only light was the moon on the rise,
and the only sound, the communion of sighs.

With all the understandable gloom, doom and despair over the coronavirus, I was reminded of this early poem of mine that used the term "corona" in a much more positive light. I wrote this poem around age 18 and it has been published by Grassroots Poetry and Poetry Webring. Keywords/Tags: Corona, coronavirus, touch, union, communion, sighs, expectation, unity, trumpets, heart, pounding, ***, arousal, union, ecstasy, consummation, consecration, omen, comet, shooting star, talisman, moonrise, moon rising
Erian Rose Nov 2019
Into the evening dusk
The steady beat of the trumpets ring about
Next time
As I gaze up upon the stars
I'll wish for you
While they hurry down from the sky

Though, I know
You'll never be mine.
An ode to the one who I know will never see me as more than a friend.
Lexi Snow Jun 2019
There is one song that makes me think of us dancing
Us so close where I was scared that I would step on your toes
I know dancing a specific style isn’t easy
Hearing it,
Just makes me feel safe
It brings me back into your arms
I truly will say
It’s Been a Long, Long Time
Listening to all the notes from the trumpets
It reminds me of the moment we heard the song
This one song makes me miss you
The song is It's Been a Long, Long Time by Harry James
Erian Rose May 2019
He sang along to the trumpets in his head,
as the radio once did.
"I'll always be there for you,"
He stuttered past his heart.
The coldness locking his beath
in a frozen cloud of smoke
intertwining in the frosted skies,
"Then you told me no,"
His hands quivered in his sleeves where scars left no marks,
while his voice was breaking like broken bones.
He never finishes his dying lyrics,
with the notes dangling in the air,
for someone else to pair.
And an iris left at the stairs.
so effulgent*
the daffodils of brightest shade
so effulgent
bold trumpets e'er magnificent
they grew along the esplanade
showing a splendid tonal grade
*so effulgent
Sethnicity Nov 2016
Whatis it about US?
Where do We go from Hear?
There's nothing left to sever
cause you just ate your ears
Their is no 1 willing to deliver
the Kind-Ness-sities of Life,
of Love,
No 1 can stand to give It ^.

We can race to the Moon and find Nothing there
Yet We litter our flags like worn underwear.
Though, My words are Frost Bitten Lakes of Reality
Stricken by Tundra and Tobacco leaf
Hidden by the Blister of Blizzard Breeze
Like locos voting on police seas
policies to put them on the streets

These words May never reach beyond,
My **** n Brain
this Cold War We Never win
10 Adam Bombs to Send
US and Them
a swifty end
A ****** Post card to God
that says " HA HA Amen"
The End
What I hate most about election years is this presumed idea that there is some real cataclysmic difference between us and the other human who inhabit this planet... Please get over yourselves and be apart of the solution.
Sethnicity Apr 2016
All who claim to be number one
First planet from the Sun
TrumPets blaring
smell well done
Stroll polls meter thermal agitation
while he gathered fever from the ***
Undermine with every line
It's what works
It's been fun
The Mercurial Man has come
Meanwhile I'm all Berned up
in this presidential run.

— The End —