Author Archives: Bartholomew Barker

About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker was born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough, North Carolina where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.

Shameless Self-Promotion

Need a last minute gift this holiday season? My chapbook Milkshakes & Chilidogs and other food poems is available. You’ll get 24 tasty poems for $4.95 paperback or $1.99 digital with zero calories! Here’s a sample from the dessert section, … Continue reading

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Grateful I’m grateful for the spring and Robert Frost seeing the gold within the green. I’m grateful for summer and William Carlos Williams’ dependable wheelbarrow. I’m grateful for autumn and James Wright along the Ohio River. And I’m grateful for … Continue reading

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Waiting at the Bar

Waiting at the Bar Don’t talk to me, I’m quite content watching you pour and mix while I sip and twirl, awash in the hum of other conversations and the ting of silverware. Let me savor these moments, anticipating her … Continue reading

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Drawing A Circle

Drawing A Circle My enemy drew a line in the overheated sand— daring me to cross. With my pen I turned his line into a circle, big enough for us both. Nothing standing in between— no pundits, no internet, no … Continue reading

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Interviewed by Hunting for the Very Best

I was recently interviewed by author and food blogger, Dina Di Maio. We talked about my chapbook, Milkshakes & Chilidogs. Check it out at her blog, Hunting for the Very Best.

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Silence: A Halloween Nightmare

Silence The silence surprises me— no more thumping from my chest— no more swooshing through my ears— the little gurgles of a living body are now absent and missed. The last light to enter these eyes was from cold clinical … Continue reading

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The Language of Touch

The Language of Touch Our fingers whisper— trace thin skin, sympathetic nerves, compassionate nails— a graceful discussion of analog thoughts. We’re watching something that I’m ignoring. Sitting by your side, not gazing into your eyes. I’d rather eavesdrop on our … Continue reading

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October Heatwave Haiku

Rusted leaves recoil Landing on scorching pavement October heatwave (The high temperature today was 98F/36C.)  

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Peek My Curiosity

Peek My Curiosity If her top slips a button and I glimpse white lace, I must time my glances to seem to keep eye contact. When helped from a car, if her skirt rides up, revealing a delicate curve of … Continue reading

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We erected statues to those leaders who inspired or enslaved, back when things got done. There was a kind of progress— armies marched to kill, factories produced and polluted. It was a simpler time, when a nation’s wealth was calculated … Continue reading

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