The sun does not set
When euphoria rises
In our little world

Having Touched You
by Michael R. Burch

What I have lost
is not less
than what I have gained.
And for each moment passed
like the sun to the west,
another remained

suspended in memory
like a flower
in crystal
so that eternity
is but an hour
and fall

is no longer a season
but a state
of mind.
I have no reason
to wait;
the wind

does not pause
for remembrance
or regret
because
there is only fate and chance.
And so then, forget . . .

Forget that we were very happy
for a day.
That day was my lifetime.
Before that day I was empty
and the sky was grey.
You were the sunshine,

the sunshine that gave me life.
I took root
and I grew.
Now the touch of death is like a terrible knife,
and yet I can bear it,
having touched you.

Odd, the things that inspire us! I wrote this poem after watching "The Boy in the Bubble": a made-for-TV movie, circa 1976, starring John Travolta. So I would have been around 18 at the time. Keywords/Tags: bubble, boy, Travolta, disease, illness, death, love, touch, danger, courage

Bubble
by Michael R. Burch

                Love—
          fragile,    elusive—
     ­ if held         too closely
    cannot              withstand
  the inter                    ruption
of its                              bright,
  unmalleable           ­   tension
    and breaks, disintegrates,
       at the              touch of
           an undiscerning
                   hand.

Originally published by Neovictorian/Cochlea. I believe this is my only "shape" or "shaped" poem. Keywords/Tags: Love, fragile, delicate, bubble, tension, held, breaks, pops, disintegrates, explodes, implodes, hand, touch, harsh, ungentle

you're spotting me
in a bubble made of
dreams

poke me to love you

In a crispy ocean-blue land.
They live in a paranoid narcissism tent.
One who was pointing at a chest of tools,
the others eyes were on a no soul weakling metal.

Can't they hear an echo curse?
Robots robbing rich robbers.
Would artist gods and goddesses,
lead to terror terrifying terrorists?

Can they share a platform
to unleash gifts and power?
Was there a fizzy dizzy violet haze?
Where they dance and dive

Would mint hue bubbles squeak?
When the world’s head spins
Shall we see coins in change?
Any day it spins and bubbles.
  
Have you seen a quiet girl
with a sinister smile,
she, siren of mystery of the future
Mirror mirror,
there is a robot in your mirror
Filter filter,
where was a peach chin fighter?
When no innocence against glitter litter
Guilty until proven later.
  
Have you seen a quiet girl as a terrorist?
Blurred errors mouth haste terror twist
If terrorist from the ancient,
they hide in between every end.
Attempted ****** as problem solver.

A true storyteller can’t tell us a part
From her crooked eyes
WH warning tears burst.
Bubbles heated never anchor
Restart will never reach to a real world.

Robot with or without soul
Hero magic twist with terrorists.
No soul knows no harm no fail,
Will memory tattoos identify you?

If I lose my place,
  I'm sure to be triggered.
I must find a safe space,
  so I'm not reconfigured.

If someone I've met
  as I go through my day,
yells at me or my pet,
  we'll both run away.

If a person protests
  my political views,
it causes such stress,
  it gives me the blues.

I'm a sensitive guy,
  so I run from all trouble.
Just don't ask me why-
  you may burst my bubble.

Life is a bubble
it is fragile
but beautiful
With rainbows and colors
looping in time

It can break and pop

It can fly and grow

It lives in an instant
Reflecting life
inside the light

It moves up the sky
To touch the sun and the cloud

But dies
without reaching
the dream of a lifetime

Perhaps in the next life
It will take the sky
without breaking its beauty
or life

Growing larger and larger

Until we are inside

And we hear
the music of life
With rainbows and colors

Knowing that
the bubble
will soon pop
and we
will soon
pass

Hoping the next bubble
is just as beautiful

The water droplets on your back glisten like diamonds.
How can I not want you?
Your hair is slicked back with shampoo lathered in your dark waves.
How can I not desire you?
You ever so carefully take the soap and cascade it down your arms and legs.
What could be better than this?
You look at me,
Standing under the water,
With my curls falling down on my shoulders.
You touch my cheek, ever so gently, and
You smile.
What could ever compare to this moment?
You pull me closer to you;
You wrap your arms around me.
Just you and I, under the hot water, with steam clouding in the air. (With the occasional bubble)
***** as ever,
And still, I have never felt so clean.