I’m proud to announce that one of my “history haiku” has been published over at Whispers and Echoes. It actually went up Friday, September 30th, the anniversary of James Dean death.
And I’m pleased to announce that one of my climate catastrophe poems is up at the Extinction Rebellion Creative Hub. They posted A Planet Shaped Vase which started out as an April poem-a-day earlier this year.
I strongly encourage everyone to follow both sites.
Advertising is
a very expensive word
for propaganda
There’s an election coming in the U. S. A.
Make sure you’re registered to vote.
With Each Passing Year
Food loses its flavor.
The sun gets dimmer,
the atmosphere thinner.
I can’t catch my breath.
The Earth’s molten core
is spinning slower like a top
wobbling— I feel gravity tilt
beneath my feet as I walk.
Years fly by faster
than months once did—
something Einstein predicted
but I don’t understand.
The world, once smooth
and vibrant, is shriveling
like a grape turning
into a raisin.
I’m no scientist
but life on this planet
can’t be viable
for very much longer.
(Another two-prompt Tuesday: this poem inspired by the LP Monday Poetry Prompt and Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt.)
I am very proud to announce that one of my poems, Another Birth, has been published in the current issue of Free Verse Revolution: Tahmina: (love & loss). You can download the PDF for free but, once you see it, I’m sure you’ll want physical copy for your bookshelves. It’s gorgeous!
I dedicated Another Birth to Phillis Wheatley. She was the first African-American woman to publish a book of poetry. I wish I could claim that I was thinking of her while writing the poem but I didn’t know about her yet. I was thinking about how dangerous pregnancy is for our mothers and while looking up famous people who died in childbirth, her name appeared.
Thank you to Kristiana Reed for publishing my work and my raven-haired muse for the inspiration.
Confirmation Bias
or We All Go To Heaven
The council of my inner voice
votes and the tally shows
I’m still mostly a good guy.
I rarely renege on promises,
shoplift from the liquor store
or cheat on my girlfriends.
But they’ve spent years crafting
this self-image and tend to ignore
marks left in the jerk column.
(Written for this week’s Living Poetry Prompt and Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt.)
Re-electing incumbents
and expecting laws
to change
We’re entering election season here in the U. S. A.
If you want to vote the bums out, you’ve got to be registered.
If you think you’re registered, they might have purged you.
Double-check at Voter Registration Status.
Eye of the Beholder
Metal tongs pull a slice of prime rib
onto my plate at the buffet.
I notice a brunette at another table
and avoid staring at her legs.
Turkey buzzards cluster around a fallen doe
like little stout Deaths in feathered robes
and sickle beaks.
The bandage around my arm itches
from where I donated blood.
Cotton stained red and now brown.
(for this week’s Living Poetry prompt and Sammi’s Weekend Writing prompt.)
I am very proud to announce that my Self Portrait has been published at Panoply, A Literary Zine. I’ve been submitting to Panoply for years so this is especially gratifying. Big thanks to Andrea, Clara, Jeff, and Ryn there.
And further gratitude to my muse who suggested I write a poem imaging myself as a house. It’s a great prompt.
At sunset the sky
lifts her skirt— full moon rises
tonight we howl
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 