Early Poems VII
These are early poems I write as a boy starting around age elven, then as a teenager in high school and during my first two years of college.
Huntress
by Michael R. Burch
after Baudelaire
Early Poems VI
These are early poems I wrote from age eleven through my teens as a high school and college freshman and sophomore. A few poems may be a bit later, date-wise, since my record-keeping was inconsistent in my youth.
El Dorado
by Michael R. Burch
It's a fine town, a fine town,
though its alleys recede into shadow;
it's a very fine town for those who are searching
for an El Dorado.
Early Poems V
These are early poems I wrote starting as a boy around age 11, then as a teen poet in high school and my first two years of college.
Leave Taking
by Michael R. Burch
Brilliant leaves abandon
battered limbs
to waltz upon ecstatic winds
until they die.
But the barren and embittered trees,
lament the frolic of the leaves
and curse the bleak
November sky.
Early Poems IV
These are early poems of mine, written as a boy starting around age eleven into my teens as a high school student and my first two years of collete. A few may have been written a bit later; I'm not always sure of composition dates due to inconsistent record keeping in my youth.
Elegy for a little girl, lost
by Michael R. Burch
for my mother, Christine Ena Burch, who was always a little giggly girl at heart
Early Poems III
These are early poems I wrote as a boy starting around age eleven, then as a teenager in high school and my first two years of college. Some poems may be a bit later because I didn't consistenly date my poems in the early days and even when I did, if I revised a poem the original date of composition was usually lost. Thus the best I can do now is guess at a range of dates for some of my early poems.
Hymn to Apollo
by Michael R. Burch
something of sunshine attracted my i
as it lazed on the afternoon sky,
golden,
splashed on the easel of god . . .
Early Poems II
These are early poems I wrote as a boy starting around age eleven, as a teen in high school and during my first two years in college, plus a few that may be a bit later.
EARLY POEMS: JUVENILIA by Michael R. Burch
Styx
by Michael R. Burch, age 16
Black waters,
deep and dark and still...
all men have passed this way,
or will.
"Styx" has been published by The Lyric, Poezii (in a Romanian translation by Petru Dimofte), The Raintown Review, Blue Unicorn, Brief Poems and Artvilla. Not too shabby for a teenage poem.
Early Poems I
These are my early poems, which I began writing around age eleven to thirteen, although I didn't make a conscious decision to become a poet until around age fourteen.
Shadows
by Michael R. Burch
Alone again as evening falls,
I join gaunt shadows and we crawl
up and down my room's dark walls.
Up and down and up and down,
against starlight—strange, mirthless clowns—
we merge, emerge, submerge . . . then drown.
Silence
However much she tried to persuade him,
The child said nothing
Not one word
Two Children
Give me your hand, oh little one!
Like children be we two;
Yet I am old, my day is done
That barely breaks for you.
A baby-basket hard you hold,
With in it cherries four:
You cherish them as men do gold,
And count them o'er.
And then you stumble in your walk;
The cherries scattered lie.
You pick them up with foolish talk
And foolish glad am I,
When you wipe one quite clean of dust
And give it unto me;
So in the baby-basket just
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Tommy Corrigan
You talk of riders on the flat, of nerve and pluck and pace --
Not one in fifty has the nerve to ride a steeplechase.
It's right enough, while horses pull and take their faces strong,
To rush a flier to the front and bring the field along;
Bur what about the last half-mile, with horses blown and beat --
When every jump means all you know to keep him on his feet.
When any slip means sudden death -- with wife and child to keep --
It needs some nerve to draw the whip and flog him at the leap --
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