In the landscape of your mind,
What am I? What am I?

A towering peak, both tall and proud?
A jagged shoreline with sandy shroud?
A gentle dew upon your leaf
Vanishes away when sunlight peaks.

The source of springs to give you life
To take your hand, make you my wife;
Or just the lonely call of birds
Deep in the forest undisturbed.

The gentle clay in water's path
Worn away til gone at last.
Both mystery and silence too;
Now I wonder what you shall do.

© G.B. 11-Jan-2012

I must admit when death walked in the room
I was surprised;
Not realised
That I should be expecting guests so soon.
I’d not prepared.
Yet he was there.
I asked him if he’d like to take a seat.
He sighed then groaned
“I’ll rest my bones.”
I mentioned the refreshments were out back
“I’d seen your lack.”
“I’ve had my snack.”
His horse was stabled back of my garage
It was enough,
A little rough.
I asked him what his business was that day
“I’ve come for you.”
His fingers drew.
I gasped a little at his forward tone.
I was alone
Within my home.
I questioned whether something had gone wrong.
“It won’t take long”
“Then you’ll be gone.”
But surely there is something left to say?
My voice dismayed!
This news amazed.
“Today I’m passing strict Islamic law.”
There was uproar,
I won’t ignore!
Then he explained “hard economic times”
Had hit them there,
Now they job share.
“If only you were scheduled for mid-week!”
“Deferral seek!”
“You’re up the creek.”
I begged if he’d consider my complaint
“Department eight”
“Handled by saints.”
Stood in queues six millennia or more
Until I saw
My life no more.

© G. Burns 15-Mar-2012

Three-methyl-indole so attractive to those bees
Three-methyl-indole placed exactly as you please
Astonishing the formula obtained through words unspoke
Can place it in a cigarette that from a mouth does smoke.

Floral bouquet placement, simply a gentle touch
Beware oedema sad should you apply too much.
Precipitous held beaker dang’rous high above the head.
Perhaps it should be kept away from gallivanting thread.

Careless lost containment, disaster will ensue
Catastrophic failure in anyone’s purview.
Cafeteria’s deserted, always alone to dine
Upon three-methyl-indole it’s now added to the wine.

© G. Burns 7-Mar-2012

Poets, Prophets, Madmen, Fools

Poets, prophets, madmen, fools
Publishing such golden rules
Feed the poor and care for sick
Teach them wisdom, make it stick.

Honour, wisdom, justice fair
Better that than never care
Despite hubris vain and wan
Glorious throne to sit upon.

Splendor, glory, courage bear
Know your limits and to spare.
Disregard the purchase cost
Or those things that you have lost.

Hopeful, costly ever dream
Things are not just what they seem.
Greater wealth is yours in trust
Hope for mercy, kind as just.

Tender mercy, gentle cares
Rescue from the demon lairs.
Bind up all our wounded hearts
Give us each a reborn start.

Refresh, rebirth, restore, remain
Never reject that kingdom’s claim
Speak boldly language not of self
Thereby reclaim eternal health.

 © G. Burns 3-Mar-2012

Spin my wheel
Around I go
Sometimes high and
Sometimes low.

A merry melody I sound
But never mind
The drone! The drone!

You spin me quickly
Spin me slow
Around, around,
Around I go.

Pleasant tuneful
Of a kind.
The drone! The drone!

Misunderstood
And seldom rhymed;
This odd instrument
That shapes my mind.

And strange with
Every sound I make.
The drone! The drone!

Press my strings
And each does sound
And once again
Around! Around!

Until you think
I’m fully known.
The drone! The drone!
The drone! The drone!

© Greg Burns 2011

Warm and soft her sinuous body
Was Wrapped around my leg entwined.
Waiting for me to join her
So to dine.

Innocence displayed extravagant
Yet all a lie set to deceive
Through a consuming web gain
Her victory.

Cruelty bridled by chance alone
Yet unleashed within an instant
When unsuspecting quarry
She pursues.

Do not ever believe her lure
Young man or bleeding you’ll repent.
And rue the day you ever
Saw her too.

Though soft and subtle seems her charm
And gentle is her sweet caress.
She only waits to do you harm
And in her paws there lingers death.

© G. Burns 1-Feb-2012

I spent so much time
Learning to succeed
That when it came time
And I really had to fail
I didn’t know how.

Learning how to fail
Is one of life’s skills
It isn’t taught in
School or college very well.
A spiritual thing.

Like many of life’s other
Spiritual things
We leave it to chance
Maybe it will develop
Like opinion or romance.

Maybe it doesn’t
Matter should we rail
Against the very fact
We don’t know how to fail
(A spiritual thing).

© G. Burns 26-Jan-2012