What a wonderful idea to have a Halloween special edition of The New New Stylus, featuring the master of darkness, (or dark poems) Michael R. Burch! Mike, I know, really enters into the spirit of Halloween - and has, over the years, written numerous poems about ghosts, ghouls, vampires, skeletons, and restless spirits that return annually to disturb our dreams, if not our lives.
Regarding the three poems included here, I'd say that these are among the very best Mike has written in this genre, and 'Pale Through His Eyes' is my own particular favourite, so 'well done' to Shannon for including it! This poem is perfectly clear and vivid and needs no analysis, but I will make a brief comment on it, nevertheless, in one of the comment boxes below.
Thanks, Martin! I’m glad you think having a Halloween special edition was such a good idea. I thought it would be fun to do that for certain days of the years, regardless of whether we’re in the middle of the main issue or if The New Stylus is on a short hiatus. So, there will be more special editions to come…
I agree that Mike is the master of dark poetry and that he “really enters the spirit of Halloween.” I actually had no intention of even doing a Halloween Special until I was perusing Mike’s Halloween poems on Substack, which got the wheels turning in my brain. It was all a completely verge-of-the-moment thing.
On the night that's in it, 'Pale Through Her Eyes' is, in my opinion, the perfect Halloween poem. Who among us - who among the secret acolytes of 'the darkside' - could fail to relish this darkly vivid portrait of a female vampire that endeavours to seize our imaginations from the very first stanza?
Pale through her eyes,
her lips are scarlet
from drinking our blood,
this child, this harlot
Halloween poetry, and indeed vampire poetry specifically, doesn't come much better than this. It would almost make you want to be a vampire - albeit a romantic one, who seeks a life, an existence beyond the grave - which, of course, is the very essence of the whole vampire genre, and these dark rejoicings.
Thank you for writing such a fabulous comment on “Pale Though Her Eyes”, Martin! I agree wholeheartedly with everything you’ve written about this fine piece. It’s mind-blowing how many genres of poetry Mike is proficient in, to put it mildly.
Thanks for sharing your poem, Tom! I enjoyed reading it a great deal, and it brought to mind what a blessing uninterrupted solitude can be. I especially like the following lines:
Thanks for posting this, Bob! I have a great fondness for Poe’s work, and this particular poem of his is one that I had never read before. I can relate to this one. If Poe thought this in his own time period, one can only imagine what he would think of our own with our modern western society’s emphasis on science and technology as opposed to the arts.
It's always an honor to be published by The New Stylus and Shannon Winestone. Comments and suggestions are always welcome and much appreciated.
Thanks, Mike! The honor is all mine.
What a wonderful idea to have a Halloween special edition of The New New Stylus, featuring the master of darkness, (or dark poems) Michael R. Burch! Mike, I know, really enters into the spirit of Halloween - and has, over the years, written numerous poems about ghosts, ghouls, vampires, skeletons, and restless spirits that return annually to disturb our dreams, if not our lives.
Regarding the three poems included here, I'd say that these are among the very best Mike has written in this genre, and 'Pale Through His Eyes' is my own particular favourite, so 'well done' to Shannon for including it! This poem is perfectly clear and vivid and needs no analysis, but I will make a brief comment on it, nevertheless, in one of the comment boxes below.
Thanks, Martin! I’m glad you think having a Halloween special edition was such a good idea. I thought it would be fun to do that for certain days of the years, regardless of whether we’re in the middle of the main issue or if The New Stylus is on a short hiatus. So, there will be more special editions to come…
I agree that Mike is the master of dark poetry and that he “really enters the spirit of Halloween.” I actually had no intention of even doing a Halloween Special until I was perusing Mike’s Halloween poems on Substack, which got the wheels turning in my brain. It was all a completely verge-of-the-moment thing.
On the night that's in it, 'Pale Through Her Eyes' is, in my opinion, the perfect Halloween poem. Who among us - who among the secret acolytes of 'the darkside' - could fail to relish this darkly vivid portrait of a female vampire that endeavours to seize our imaginations from the very first stanza?
Pale through her eyes,
her lips are scarlet
from drinking our blood,
this child, this harlot
Halloween poetry, and indeed vampire poetry specifically, doesn't come much better than this. It would almost make you want to be a vampire - albeit a romantic one, who seeks a life, an existence beyond the grave - which, of course, is the very essence of the whole vampire genre, and these dark rejoicings.
Thank you for writing such a fabulous comment on “Pale Though Her Eyes”, Martin! I agree wholeheartedly with everything you’ve written about this fine piece. It’s mind-blowing how many genres of poetry Mike is proficient in, to put it mildly.
You are talking about a life in poetry for in excess of 50 years. No ordinary life, in my opinion.
I agree. Mike is an anomaly in so many ways. He is truly in a class all his own.
Is it all saints day?
I'd never have guessed--
none came calling for treats,
no sweet craving
rang to be blessed.
I communed
with an ancient all night--
my doorbell not once disturbing
my curious quest--
hooray!
Thanks for sharing your poem, Tom! I enjoyed reading it a great deal, and it brought to mind what a blessing uninterrupted solitude can be. I especially like the following lines:
I communed
with an ancient all night—
my doorbell not once disturbing
my curious quest
just tossed off, shannon, such oddities seem to be just popping out of me lately.
glad if you liked.
Well, I most certainly did.
Here's a different take by poe:
Sonnet—To Science
By Edgar Allan Poe
Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?
Thanks for posting this, Bob! I have a great fondness for Poe’s work, and this particular poem of his is one that I had never read before. I can relate to this one. If Poe thought this in his own time period, one can only imagine what he would think of our own with our modern western society’s emphasis on science and technology as opposed to the arts.