
Black waters,
deep and dark and still…
all men have passed this way,
or will.
*****
Michael R. Burch writes: “This original epigram, written in my teens, returns more than 6,000 results. I started writing poetry around age 13 and decided that I wanted to challenge the immortals around age 15. I was always very ambitious about my writing. When I couldn’t out-write Keats and Shelley at age 15, I destroyed everything I had written in a fit of pique. I was able to reconstruct some of the poems from memory, but not all. I still miss a few of the poems that seemed promising which have not cooperated with being resurrected.”
Michael R. Burch is an American poet who lives in Nashville, Tennessee with his wife Beth and two outrageously spoiled puppies. Burch’s poems, translations, essays, articles, reviews, short stories, epigrams, quotes, puns, jokes and letters have appeared more than 7,000 times in publications which include TIME, USA Today, The Hindu, BBC Radio 3, CNN.com, Daily Kos, The Washington Post and hundreds of literary journals, websites and blogs. Burch is also the founder and editor-in-chief of The HyperTexts, a former columnist for the Nashville City Paper, and, according to Google’s rankings, a relevant online publisher of poems about the Holocaust, Hiroshima, the Trail of Tears, Darfur, Gaza and the Palestinian Nakba. Burch’s poetry has been taught in high schools and universities, translated into fifteen languages, incorporated into three plays and two operas, set to music by twenty composers, recited or otherwise employed in more than forty YouTube videos, and used to provide book titles to two other authors. To read the best poems of Mike Burch in his own opinion, with his comments, please click here: Michael R. Burch Best Poems.
Photo: “Styx” by wilding.andrew is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
I’m always pleased when one of my boyhood poems gets published in my advancing age, so thanks to Robin Helweg-Larsen, one of my favorite editors.
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Thanks Mike – I’m always interested to see what poets like of their own work, and to hear why.
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Robin, this is one of my favorites of my boyhood poems. It seems nicely eerie and ominous for such a young poet, and I still like it today.
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I suspect the young are better able to understand death than love.
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I think poets tend to be highly sensitive, so in some cases, yes.
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