Human hair is the new currency. Bald people have done something to deserve poverty. There’s a slight gender imbalance; that’s nature’s way. Did you see on the net – that girl, never had it cut before, down to her hips it was. Shorn. All taken by her hairdresser-pimp. She was crying in the street. “It was all I had! […]
Read more
Prevent The Fallen Hero (to those who risk their lives daily for us) Everyday as they get ready for work, they push aside the possibility that they may not make it home. Everyday as they walk out that door, they try to reassure their family that they will be coming home. When they put on that vest, they pray […]
Read more
Fragile Future If we are not grateful for what we have and there is no hope for a better tomorrow continuation is doubtful, since efforts of improvement rapidly diminish without sufficient reward.
Read more
Crossword Adventurer Isn’t it great! The chessboard gone wonky, Thrust into eddies of new clusters – All-dimensional vistas. Isn’t it great to peel and pave the words, To lick their sounds, To hone the code letters with your pencil sharpener. Happy jump from ‘right’ to ‘dream’ – City breath pause, Gurgling word-chain. Torture, hiatus of connection; Now predator […]
Read more
The Mess EASY FORM FOR QUICKNESS AND DRIVES LIES EARLY ON THE FORM OF NEW SCHEDULES WORN AND RIPPED BY STYLE AND CONDIMENTS ALL FLYING WITH THE VIGOUR OF THE EARTH AND TIDES REACHING OVER CLIFFS AND GRASS TO REACH NEW HEAVENS. LAND-LOCKED SQUARES AND EASY PIECES FORM PAPER-CLAD BEAUTIES RIDDLED WITH SALT NOW DRYING SLOWLY DYING REMOTELY […]
Read more
Tangled up in a spider web what an icky feeling thought after thought then suddenly I’m bitten. Danny P. Barbare resides in the Southern U.S. in the Upstate of the Carolinas. He has been writing poetry on and off for 33 years. He has several books available on amazon.com: Being a Janitor and Gathered Poems.
Read more
Love Letters of Old My love was stifled Between the gum and the paper – The sealed envelope was lumpy
Read more
After the Snowstorm On a sunny day I see Nandina berries plump and red that were once covered with snow.
Read more
Missing Feeding of the Birds (V3) By Michael Lee Johnson Keeping my daily journal diary short these sweet bird sounds lost- reviews January through March. Joy a dig deep snow on top of my sorrows. Skinny naked bones sparrows these doves beneath my balcony window, lie lifeless without tweet no melody lost their sounds. These few survivors huddle […]
Read more
Part II Let calcium lines be shaved of moss and other growth be centered, Re-score the patterns. All who change and slither shall live; those who clinch all roots shall perish. Wilful ignoring and retraction is a key to survival. In the circle, all is death; through the lines, life is pursued. But all life is angular, clinches segmentation. Knowledge […]
Read more