In a perfect world, you and I could saunter— free.
Breathing fresh, salt-licked air.
Where the ocean reaches for our feet, and the sun melts into the sea, and the sky drapes over its long lost twin.
Where the forest and the sky and the land love humanity dearly, like a neighborhood that could thrive for eternity.
In a perfect world, there would be no bicker of capitalists and environmentalists— merely political empathy.
I dream of boring news channels.
When red, white, and blue don't seem so embarrassing, nor disgraceful to half of the country, and "liberty and justice for all" hugs "all" comfortably.
When the government is wed to candor bound by the promise of life and liberty, and diplomacy relieves, and monopolies fancy consumers' well-being.
......
I like soft light best,
candles and moonlight.
Such light always overlooks a blemish
to highlight the deeper beauty-
the sparkle in one's eye,
the glow of a fire, the contours of the night.
It's not concerned with getting to some final truth,
but instead, naturally gregarious, invites us to talk
of our dreams, our aspirations, indeed anything,
usually over a glass of burgundy,
......
Just like you would open the door
to a stranger on a stormy day,
welcome the souls
who knock on your heart.
You never know what
they've gone through.
-precious.whispers
The language of love requires no translation,
The language of trust needs no explanation,
The language of honesty needs no interpretation,
The language of wisdom requires no noise,
The language of kindness requires no words.
There she is, sitting under a million stars,
the moonlight on her skin seems to alleviate,
a stabbing and lasting pain which does obliterate
her being
why does she even have to feel this pain,
although she has a soul whose kind is kind?
Is it because she’s way too kind?
so immoderate, that if people try to use her she doesn’t see the bad behind?
......
In a perfect world, you and I could saunter— free.
Breathing fresh, salt-licked air.
Where the ocean reaches for our feet, and the sun melts into the sea, and the sky drapes over its long lost twin.
Where the forest and the sky and the land love humanity dearly, like a neighborhood that could thrive for eternity.
In a perfect world, there would be no bicker of capitalists and environmentalists— merely political empathy.
I dream of boring news channels.
When red, white, and blue don't seem so embarrassing, nor disgraceful to half of the country, and "liberty and justice for all" hugs "all" comfortably.
When the government is wed to candor bound by the promise of life and liberty, and diplomacy relieves, and monopolies fancy consumers' well-being.
......
Daily I would think of her only always,
Whenever she was not seen,
That would create a hell for me,
I would brood over and worry,
My mind would be out of joy,
When she was seen one day,
My peace would be restored,
She would fill my dreams,
In my dreams, I would wander,
Without seeing her anywhere,
......
The language of love requires no translation,
The language of trust needs no explanation,
The language of honesty needs no interpretation,
The language of wisdom requires no noise,
The language of kindness requires no words.
These are poems about the homeless and the downtrodden, and poems about the need for compassion, kindness, understanding and tolerance.
Neglect
by Michael R. Burch
What good are your tears?
They will not spare the dying their anguish.
What good is your concern
to a child sick of living, waiting to perish?
......
There she is, sitting under a million stars,
the moonlight on her skin seems to alleviate,
a stabbing and lasting pain which does obliterate
her being
why does she even have to feel this pain,
although she has a soul whose kind is kind?
Is it because she’s way too kind?
so immoderate, that if people try to use her she doesn’t see the bad behind?
......