Original Poetry by Myles Burr
You Me & The End Of The World
“You Me & The End Of The World” was released March of 2021 by Underground Writers Association and is an anthology showcasing Myles Burr and eleven other poets from the greater seacoast area.
Therapy Is Expensive So I Wrote This Book Instead
“Therapy Is Expensive So I Wrote This Book Instead” was released January of 2020 by Underground Writers Association and is a collection of confessional freeform poetry.
First Class Ticket To Hell
Abstraction of truth.
Mellifluous lies construct an ever flowing river of comfort.
It’s all going just fine.
Climb aboard!
This bus is headed south down salvation alley!
They’re saying it’s a real scorcher down there...
I sit wondering whether or not to be scared.
I question my own purpose.
What a foolish concept.
If I’m lucky I may just acquire a window seat.
Then I can really take in everything around me.
Masquerade or verisimilitude?
I can’t grasp either concept.
Conceptual copulation can be conducive to ego smashing.
But nothing compares to that tickle tickle of ego inflation.
Pressure relief.
Tailored madness.
Have you ever seen the devil look this fresh?
Have you ever held your hands around the throat of an angel?
Have you ever felt like GOD?
The Best F-ing Poets You've Never Heard Of.
A collection of poetry from four powerful New England poets. “The Best F-ing Poets You’ve Never Heard Of.” contains work by Myles Burr, Joel Carpenter, Elsbeth Willis, and Nicholas Coulombe. Published by Underground Writers Association in 2018.
Early Afternoon Lukewarm Domestic Porch Beers
I watched the dying hornet crawling on the boards of the porch.
Does it understand its purpose?
Does it even have one?
I was so caught up in contemplation that I smoked my cigarette to the filter.
It burnt my fingertips.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
The mysteries of life run full circle.
Like my thoughts.
Like greyhounds chasing the rabbit.
Like horses on the track.
What about the hornet?
It’s going to be a cold and lonely winter.
Today it’s hot in November.
Sea Breezes
Love poems from a desolate seaside town, A collaborative chapbook created by Myles Burr and Leigh Anita in the summer of 2020.
Salt soaked skin and soft hair.
Let’s kiss down by the creek,
Pretend summer hasn’t escaped us.
Love lust.
Emotions and sexual tensions arising and falling,
Like off-schedule tides.
The mind goes blank.
Waves like silk.
The tree line fades.
Everything warms up like sun kissed sand.
We make barefoot treks off path,
In search of an endless summer.
In search of a deep love connection.
Let’s skip over the hard parts,
And get lost in the honeymoon phase.
Ataraxia Vol. 1
Beneath the burning August sun in the final throws of Summer 2020, Myles Burr and Calvan Xavier Vail-Burr ingested mushrooms and went in search of vintage porn and answers to questions like “what is loneliness?” and “Are you on Bumble?” all they could really come up with was this collaborative piece containing poetry, photography, and collage.
Nighstalker searching for perimeter.
Climbing paranoid hospital stairs equipped with straight jacket psychosis.
Almost there.
This is the back of the ambulance.
I.C.U.
A dream.
Death’s door.
Purgatory.
Fuzzy connection to my mind’s eye.
There’s too much coincidence cyclical yet chaotic.
The asphalt of empty streets reflect street lights that serve a broken machine.
It’s Fine. I’m Fine.
A collaborative work of poetry by Myles Burr and photography by Calvan Xavier Vail-Burr, “It’s Fine. I’m Fine.” is written as a continuous collaborative piece. Released in 2018.
I:
Obsidian Eyes sparkle with a vacancy easily mistaken for a loving incandescence.
“I’m sorry” followed by false promises of forever.
Materialistic affection represented in diamond chains.
Tangled extremities and locked lips.
Palms encapsulated in a sweating wrinkled prison.
White knuckled boohoo’s exploding with twists and turns so messy everyone’s confused.
The Product of bottled insecurity.
Burnt out filament in a cracked bulb of confusion.
The light has burnt out.
The light has burnt out.
The light has burnt out.
Toe’s curl in excitement.
Boots knock rickety until the last remnants of time spent enthralled are reduced to a lackluster attempt to turn a two-day old sock right side out before redressing and splitting the sheets.
We could just lay awhile.
The dawn creeps in giving shadowed depth to the inner crevasse of bloodshot eyes.
Drifting out of sleep and back to the reality of goodbye.
Skipping good morning completely.
Embellishing the complex of a need for sympathy when it’s simply apathy that’s available.
Readily available.
Every car passing my driveway makes my head turn like a lost puppy waiting for the hand that feeds it to return home.
Comfort in a Pavlovian sense.
Puckered lips dry as a bone.
That’s what happens when you’re caught in the garbage.
Tongue tied into a noose worn through a slit throat.
The devil tailored this suit equipped with a Cuban necktie.
Guaranteed to turn heads at any social gathering.
Excreting pheromones.
Who are you wearing?
Convolutions Of An Unkempt Mind
A collaborative piece containing poetry by Myles Burr and illustrations by Sam Paolini. “Convolutions Of An Unkempt Mind” was created in 2018.
Join The Club
Club heartbreak…
And I sure feel like I've been clubbed.
Like a baby seal.
Like an unruly prisoner.
And the leaves of fall dance around in the wind.
And it's reminiscent of my anxieties.
With Hugh Hefner’s death came the death of my ego.
And every day smells of rain.
And I dream in lavender.
And I masturbate half-heartedly.
And I long for company.
And I loathe every couple that crosses my path.
I understand the concept of beauty, and I witness the pretty girls walk by with insecurities and stories of past lovers and their own heartbreak and their newfound loves and their loss of independence and I realize I just want YOU.
Maybe it's too late.
But I refuse to give up just now, for I can see a sliver of hope shining like a crescent moon in a light polluted sky.
You are the epitome of beauty.
An angel among filth.
You're the definition of Love.