Res John Burman
Res John Burman (27th October 1942 to 'Not Yet! ' / London, Middlesex, England)
Biography of Res John Burman
Res John Burman Poems
Better To Go Barefoot
Better to go bare-foot, Than wear that old soft shoe. Be the altar of your own soul, And let them come and worship you!
Lantern hanging in the trees, Full moon overhead, An orange moon, a bloody moon, As I buried my dead!
Today I have no time For poetry and such Today I must make bookcases
Injured birds break my heart Like injured innocence Losing the gift of flight
Little Church nestling Beside the River Camel Sweet morning birdsong
My It Consultant
I have an IT Consultant, Who, gently, with words of one syllable, Patiently leads me through the complexities, Of Mobiles, landlines, filters,
Sands Of Time
Written for a Poetry Challenge. The challenge was to write a poem including sand dunes without mentioning either word, this was the result. Take the train to Bodmin Road They call it Parkway now
Paddington Station. Platform One.
Your beauty shines out In the monochrome station Sooty platform one.
In the rattle of the battle In the fog of fusillade There's a comrade I'd have beside me And no better friend was made.
'Bush Fire Tanka'
I remember smoke On the wind, always warning Of approaching fire
After The Storm
Ah, the wind, the wind is dying, As it puts the storm to bed, In the sky the clouds are flying As they chase each other o’erhead.
A parcel returned. ‘Addressee Not Known! ’ I phoned to check But the address was right.
'Donkey Tales' A Haiku Chain.
Donkey in the kitchen With her hungry face on Rattling the lid of the bread bin
Confucius he say: - “Given a few more years Of life to finish my study Of the Book of Changes,
'There be' Squalls
Here in Penzance
Chasing each other
Of houses and cars.
On all surfaces.