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There was a moment without the sound of trumpets or a shining light, but with only silence and darkness and a cool mist felt more than seen. I wa..
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SquallbyMichael R. BurchThere, in that sunny arbor,in the aureate lightfiltering through the waxy leavesof a stunted banana tree,I felt the sudden mon..
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This is an anonymous Middle English poem, circa 1260 AD, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
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A week before the Armistice, you died.They did not keep your heart like Livingstone’s,then plant your bones near Shakespeare’s. So you lie..
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Cherubic laugh; sly, impish grin;Angelic face; wild chimp within.It does not matter; sleep awhileAs soft mirth tickles forth a smile.Gray moths will h..
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Oh, was it in this dark-Decembered worldwe walked among the moonbeam-shadowed fieldsand did not know ourselves for weight of snowupon our laden parkas..
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The Octopi Jarsby Michael R. BurchLong-vacant eyesnow lodged in clear glass,a-swim with pale armsas delicate as angels’ . . .you are beyond all ..
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Poetry capturesnot the realitybut the spirit of thingsbeing the languagenot of the lordly falconbut of the dove with broken wingswhose heavenward flig..
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for Miklós Radnóti-I met him in the gravejust before he died;his face was haggardbut his startling eyes(though terrified)were gentle, fa..
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The title “The Pain of Love” was suggested by an interview with Little Richard, then eighty years old, in Rolling Stone. He said that some..
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