The Effects Of Memory, Part 2 Poem by Michael Burch

These are poems about the effects of time on memory, poems about time, and poems about loss...



The Effects of Memory
by Michael R. Burch

A black ringlet curls to lie
at the nape of her neck,
glistening with sweat
in the evaporate moonlight...
This is what I remember

now that I cannot forget.

And tonight,
if I have forgotten her name,
I remember...
rigid wire and white lace
half-impressed in her flesh,

our soft cries, like regret

... the enameled white clips
of her br- strap
still inscribe dimpled marks
that my kisses erase...

now that I have forgotten her face.



Distances
by Michael R. Burch

Moonbeams on water —
the reflected light
of a halcyon star
now drowning in night...
So your memories are.

Footprints on beaches
now flooding with water;
the small, broken ribcage
of some primitive slaughter...
So near, yet so far.



Bound
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 14-15

Now it is winter—the coldest night.
And as the light of the streetlamp casts strange shadows to the ground,
I have lost what I once found
in your arms.

Now it is winter—the coldest night.
And as the light of distant Venus fails to penetrate dark panes,
I have remade all my chains
and am bound.

Published as 'Why Did I Go? ' in my high school journal the Lantern in 1976. I have made slight changes here and there, but the poem is essentially the same as what I wrote in my early teens.



Am I
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 14-15

Am I inconsequential;
do I matter not at all?
Am I just a snowflake,
to sparkle, then to fall?

Am I only chaff?
Of what use am I?
Am I just a feeble flame,
to flicker, then to die?

Am I inadvertent?
For what reason am I here?
Am I just a ripple
in a pool that once was clear?

Am I insignificant?
Will time pass me by?
Am I just a flower,
to live one day, then die?

Am I unimportant?
Do I matter either way?
Or am I just an echo—
soon to fade away?

This is one of my very earliest poems, written around age 14 or 15. If I remember correctly, it was written the same day as 'Time, ' which appeared in my high school sophomore poetry assignment booklet. If not, it was a companion piece written around the same time. The refrain 'Am I' is an inversion of the biblical 'I Am' supposedly given to Moses as the name of God. when I wrote the two poems.



The Beautiful People
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 18

They are the beautiful people,
and their shadows dance through the valleys of the moon
to the listless strains of an ancient tune.

Oh, no... please don't touch them,
for their smiles might fade.
Don't go... don't approach them
as they promenade,
for they waltz through a vacuum
and dream they're not made
of the dust and the dankness
to which men degrade.

They are the beautiful people,
and their spirits sighed in their mothers' wombs
as the distant echoings of unearthly tunes.

Winds do not blow there
and storms do not rise,
and each hair has its place
and each gown has its price.
And they whirl through the darkness
untouched by our cares
as we watch them and long for
a 'life' such as theirs.

This is one of my early poems, written as a teenager in high school around age 18.



Analogy
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 18-19

Our embrace is like a forest
lying blanketed in snow;
you, the lily, are enchanted
by each shiver trembling through;
I, the snowfall, cling in earnest
as I press so close to you.
You dream that you now are sheltered;
I dream that I may break through.

I believe I wrote this poem around age 18 or 19.



Elemental
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

There is within her a welling forth
of love unfathomable.
She is not comfortable
with the thought of merely loving:
but she must give all.

At night, she heeds the storm's calamitous call;
nay, longs for it. Why?
O, if a man understood, he might understand her.
But that never would do!
Beth, as you embrace the storm,

so I embrace elemental you.



Fading memories
of summer holidays:
the closet's last floral skirt...
—Michael R. Burch

Scandalous tides,
removing bikinis!
—Michael R. Burch

Old age, believe me, is a blessing. While it's true you get gently shouldered off the stage, you're awarded such a comfortable front row seat as spectator. — Confucius, loose translation by Michael R. Burch



Less Heroic Couplets: Baseball Explained
by Michael R. Burch

Baseball's immeasurable spittin'
mixed with occasional hittin'.



Keywords/Tags: effects, memory, memories, remember, regret, time, loss, death, moonlight, erase