Michael Burch Poems
|1.||I Pray Tonight, For The Sandy Hook Survivors||12/16/2012|
|2.||Sandy Hook: Piercing The Shell||12/16/2012|
|3.||Sandy Hook: Frail Envelope Of Flesh||12/16/2012|
|6.||What Would Santa Claus Say||8/3/2015|
|7.||I've Got Jesus's Face On A Wallet Insert||8/4/2015|
|9.||Sandy Hook Call To Love||12/16/2012|
|10.||Sandy Hook Shooting Gallery||12/16/2012|
|11.||For A Sandy Hook Child, With Butterflies||12/16/2012|
|12.||Sandy Hook Hallways Haiku||12/16/2012|
|13.||Child Of 9-11||12/16/2012|
|14.||Epitaph For A Palestinian Child||12/16/2012|
|16.||Something, For The Children Of Sandy Hook||12/16/2012|
|17.||Ali's Song (For Muhammad Ali)||1/11/2013|
Comments about Michael Burch
There is a Rose at Auschwitz, in the briar,
a rose like Sharon's, lovely as her name.
The world forgot her, and is not the same.
I love her and would not forget desire,
but keep her memory exalted flame
to justify the thistles and the nettles.
On Auschwitz now the reddening sunset settles;
they sleep alike—diminutive and tall,
the innocent, the 'surgeons.' Sleeping, all.
Red oxides of her blood, bright crimson petals,
if accidents of coloration, gall
my heart no less. Amid thick weeds and muck
there lies a rose man's crackling lightning struck: ...
Through our long years of dreaming to be one
we grew toward an enigmatic light
that gently warmed our tendrils. Was it sun?
We had no eyes to tell; we loved despite
the lack of all sensation—all but one:
we felt the night's deep chill, the air so bright
at dawn we quivered limply, overcome.
To touch was all we knew, and how to bask.