#clinging
I said goodbye yesterday
I said it again today
And I will say it tomorrow as well
I will say goodbye
For as long as it takes
Until one day
My heart lets you go
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 2:50 PM UTC
thanks J. G. for the inspiration:>
<n><m><l>
you send me!
this very odd phrase:
and it is
the burr, the irritant,
the pea beneath the mattress,
the ***** tissue that doesn’t clang,
yet is clingy
so you return to the crime scene,
re & re~read the particulate that stings
and strings you along,
and the catch phrase that has you caught,
gently kids, smiling teasingly,
you’re hooked,
line and sinker
Why,
you might even make a note
for that poetry bone is
stingling!
twinkling,
and you do not trust your memory anymore
perhaps,
like me,
you feel the invisible tug of the sleeve,
and you reach for the writing receptacle,
while the needle’s pricking is morning fresh,
the injection site not yet reddened,
the infection spreads to your fingertips,
and you stain the clean white tablecloth
with black letter,
till you are purged,
purposed,
and that tugging sensation
is no longer
Sun Feb 1, 2026
9:47pm
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 9:23 PM UTC
in her eighties
motoring in wisdoms and whimble
beddened by stroke subtle effects
and an unlucky stumble
agilely un-humble
willing to poach after life put in the work
willing to comb back in old welcome habits
revive living through past youthful revisits
May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 4:34 PM UTC
A lot of people in the world labor under the weight of too many things
they have accumulated in their lifetime and to which their mind clings.
_______________________
Jul 28, 2023
Jul 28, 2023 at 10:28 PM UTC
Ergo this futile persistence
Clinging to worldly existence
Is like holding your breath,
Harming only your health.
In childish resistance
To the closing of distance.
Between death and yourself –
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 2:13 PM UTC
~ *light on,
still-frame freeze of black bodied eight-legged life
clinging to stained acrylic. we stare at each other pretending we're not real
until one of us moves.
it was me.
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 7:15 AM UTC
Time trickles from my upturned palms
In streams of oil and water
I’ve been trying so intently
To stop it
I haven’t had a moment to spend on anything else
I know that when we meet
A lifetime will pass in a second
But somehow I’ll revel in the light and the darkness
Like the flickering of rapidly turned pages
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC
Free Fall to Liftoff
by Michael R. Burch
for my father, Paul Ray Burch, Jr.
I see the longing for departure gleam
in his still-keen eye,
and I understand his desire
to test this last wind, like late November leaves
with nothing left to cling to ...
The following poems about free-falling were written with Tom Petty's song "Free-Fallin'" in mind...
Free Fall (I)
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
These cloudless nights, the sky becomes a wheel
where suns revolve around an axle star ...
Look there, and choose. Decide which moon is yours.
Sink Lethe-ward, held only by a heel.
Advantage. Disadvantage. Who can tell?
To see is not to know, but you can feel
the tug sometimes—the gravity, the shell
as lustrous as damp pearl. You sink, you reel
toward some draining revelation. Air—
too thin to grasp, to breathe. Such pressure. Gasp.
The stars invert, electric, everywhere.
And so we fall in spirals through night’s fissure—
two beings—pale, intent to fall forever
around each other—fumbling at love’s tether ...
now separate, now distant, now together.
Free Fall (II)
by Michael R. Burch
after Tom Petty
I have no earthly remembrance of you, as if
we were never of earth, but merely white clouds adrift,
swirling together through Himalayan altitudes—
no more man and woman than exhaled breath—unable to fall
back to solid existence, despite the air’s sparseness: all
our being borne up, because of our lightness,
toward the sun’s unendurable brightness . . .
But since I touched you, fire consumes each wing!
We who are unable to fly, stall
contemplating disaster. Despair like an anchor, like an iron ball,
heavier than ballast, sinks on its thick-looped chain
toward the earth, and soon thereafter will be sufficient pain
to recall existence, to make the coming darkness everlasting.
Keywords/Tags: autumn, leaves, cling, clinging, wind, death, flight, fly, flying, transport, free fall, liftoff, departure, bare, barren, leafless, skeletal
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 11:33 PM UTC
First and Last
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
You are the last arcane rose
of my aching,
my longing,
or the first yellowed leaves’
vagrant spirals of gold
forming huddled bright sheaves.
You are passion forsaking
dark skies, as though sunsets no winds might enclose.
And still in my arms
you are gentle and fragrant—
demesne of my vigor,
spent rigor,
lost power,
fallen musculature of youth,
leaves clinging and hanging,
nameless joys of my youth to this last lingering hour.
Published by Tucumcari Literary Review and Poetry Life & Times.
Keywords/Tags: rose, love, ache, desire, longing, passion, autumn, leaves, clinging, hanging, sunset, lost, youth, joy, joys, yellowed, golden, first, last, final
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 3:12 AM UTC
Two flapping wings deliver me
nowhere until my wits release,
white-knuckled, oh so desperately,
from you, my only masterpiece.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 11:02 AM UTC
You thought that I was easy
to smoke,
But you vaped my lyrics,
now I'm stuck in your lungs,
Cemented words that you cant exhale,
cremated within you.
Your drowning
now comatose verses,
that you thought were strawberry
kisses.
But when you swallowed,
you never chewed.
Now you got razor wire cuts
lacerating you inside.
With every inhale of my lyrical chemical cloud.
You think I'm easy to swallow,
breathing my verses that never leave you,
my words are like asthma on your generation.
Making you wheeze when you don't inhale
enough of my lyrical verse.
They tried to ban me,
but,
every one wants to breath me in.
I'm like a exhale that clouds your thoughts,
but you'll still smoke my verses till
you got tubes huffing and puffing.
Knowing that your last breath
will have my words clinging to your lungs...
Me in in liquorice
kisses that will last on your lips.
I'm the last kiss you taste,
my words will be
on your deathbed..
Here lies verses
that were simple
but never left you.
cremated with the words
I choked on the lyrics.....
but I'd smoke them again.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
The cell phone rings once
But the ringing in my head…
...The sound of your voice
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
we walk through the years
along the tiring shores
of the ocean of life
not knowing when our paths
will fade away and be forgotten
among those of many others
at times, when the tide is low
and sun warm the sands
we find abundant treasures
scattered for us to pick
and claim as ours
we laugh, in happiness
at times, when the tide is high
and fierce storms rage
we barely cling on
to our frail dear life
waves reclaim our treasures
we scowl, in sadness
as the tides high and low
so do our feelings flitter
at whim and mercy
of the uncertain ocean of life
bound by the ropes of desire
to inevitable pain
if only we see the truth,
to see the scattered treasures
but to claim them not ours
to see the moods of the ocean
but to see them not permanent
then, and only then
the bliss of true peace is ours
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
My mind is filled with questions
with ‘what ifs’ and what should have happened
In a flipped universe what would have been the notion?
Would we be together or would I still be the only one with emotion?
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 12:10 PM UTC
I love you deeply,
as a nameless wave in the sea;
I love you strongly,
with so much more than I can ever be;
I love you sweetly,
like a random song in the night;
I love you increasingly,
Every time we kiss or we fight;
I love you blindly,
in the dark you are all I see;
I love you steadily,
no matter how many times you push me;
I love you brightly,
like a shattered mirror to the sun;
I love you gladly,
though you were never really having fun;
I love you tirelessly,
even if I run with all my might;
I love you truly,
even though I was 'never really right';
I love you sincerely,
amidst every single time you lie;
I love you endlessly,
even these many years after goodbye;
I love you rhetorically,
like no words could ever express;
I love you foolishly,
and always I will love you nonetheless.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 7:46 AM UTC
There is a sleep so light
that it rests upon my brow
ever so careful no to slip into my eyes
and I hear its laughter
on my thoughts that have no meaning
or reason
And when it notices
my tears
it takes pity on me
and holds my eyelids down
with the weight of its love
That’s how morning comes
and finds me,
clinging to the sleep,
clinging to the life,
that will soon leave me.
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
I’m dearly clinging to The Cross
of Christ, as though this Life
depends on it; with these empty
hands there’s no gain, but loss
since Salvation can’t be earned.
The vanity of accomplishments
and earthly achievements mean
nothing, seeing that it’s burned
up within the crucible of works.
My Hope remains in Christ alone
and the commitment of His Word;
I’m not motivated by a knee ****
reaction to lies from His enemy.
Therefore, I’ll remain vigilant,
confident and sober, knowing that
on Christ, I will always rely!
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC
"The Bark"
Illusion pales reality
Clinging fires the heart
Intensity raptures the moment
And we play with the ghosts of the bark
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
Sharp sighs and the smell of coffee,
It filled the cold morning air
Of my small room in the apartment.
Grey filled the shadows of my face,
As I hugged myself on the spring bed.
I hadn't been feeling well that morning.
Maybe it was because the old woman
That lived beside me was smoking,
Slowly filling her apartment with tobacco
Instead of cats that meowed gently.
I didn't feel like going out.
Maybe it was because room 7 was open
And out came the strong figure of a man;
A man that'd left his children and wife
I was scared that I'd hear the sobs
Of his little young'uns and his wife
Again for the 5th time, and I'd break.
I didn't want to open my blinds.
Perhaps it was because my apartment was right across room 10,
Housed by a lone boy in his teens.
And maybe if I had open my blinds,
I might have seen his blue glassy eyes
That sobbed for the warmth of
The childhood he had missed and lost.
I swear I heard him howl last night.
I didn't even bother to dress up.
I knew I wasn't going anywhere,
Especially when it was room 5's time,
To remove her dainty mask and honour the drunken sailor's days
By cussing out her only child
And leaving scars in his heart
That no amount of candy would fix.
Don't get me started on room 1.
Oh, room 1, a poète maudit.
There she lays all day in her gown,
Sipping coffee and listening to bicker,
Scooping ideas to weep on paper.
Room 1 had problems of her own,
But she wouldn't dare to confront them.
Not today, at least, room 1 was tired.
Nonetheless, today, room 1 was very observant.
It was a strange small apartment.
It specialized in crazed sane people,
People that didn't grow up too well.
People that weren't quite broken,
But weren't quite fixed either.
They were often cracking under
The own weight of their sins and flaws
But they managed to wake up everyday
And maybe.. Just maybe think
"Today, I'm going to fix myself."
Maybe tomorrow, the old lady would decide to get a bit of fresh air.
Maybe next week, room 7's door will close shut again and ooze with love.
Maybe next month, the kid would've decided to make use of his mouth
And scream "I've had enough!"
He'd bring his mother to tears -
Because that's what she wanted;
For him to stand up for himself.
Maybe next year, the young teen would pick up his school bag and live his life.
Maybe a month after that year, the poet would've shared a masterpiece.
Maybe by then we'd all have lived better lives and left the apartment.
But today was not the day.
Today nobody had thought to fix themselves.
Today everybody clung to this strange place.
-M.M
Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 9:49 AM UTC