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Recent Posts
- If you find my journal 2025-12-16
- Fraiku: All I Need in December 2025-12-12
- Stuck 2025-12-08
- Fraiku: Fog 2025-12-05
- Milkshakes and Chilidogs for the Holidays 2025-12-02
- Fraiku: Gratitude 2025-11-28
- Middle Child 2025-11-27
- The Leaves of Late Autumn 2025-11-25
- Fraiku: Pilot Whales 2025-11-21
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If you find my journal
If you find my journal Best keep the clasp tight not for any secrets sitting within (poets don’t write those down) but for everything that might spill out A stem of heather picked in the Ring of Brodgar on the … Continue reading
Stuck
Like snow that doesn’t stick I’m waiting for these aches To accumulate into regret over you (For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt and Living Poetry’s Monday Prompt.)
Middle Child
Big brother is impatient for little sister’s decorations to come down like a sugar high. He doesn’t like her goth aesthetic of black and orange. He’d rather be of good cheer, all bright and flashy. And here I sit between … Continue reading
The Leaves of Late Autumn
The crescent moon smiles in the twilight as the rain, fresh fallen from the trees, taps out exotic rhythms on our path. Your eyes crinkle when you look at me and I know my luck will run out someday. But … Continue reading
First Frost
I fluff up my nest and my graying fur, ignore my doctors put on a few pounds, fill the freezer with Impossible burgers and microwave burritos. Night freezes the birdbath, so I lock my doors, secure the shutters but leave … Continue reading
Life in the Confederacy
The stainless steel is cold in my hand, except for the place touched by my lips where I blew as hard as I could and barely heard a whine. Rabid dogs came running, tails wagging, mouths foaming, ready to vote … Continue reading
Día de los Muertos
We lay an offering on the alter.For great-grandfather Whilum,a trowel encrusted with the earth.For great-grandma Emma,a bowl of butterscotch candy.For grandma Mary,a feed-sack apron.For grandpa Boppi,a dancing harmonica.For my father Peter,another flashlight magnetic and powerful.And for my mom— rye,sweet vermouth … Continue reading
Hansel
She slinks over to me sitting at the bar, touches my arm, twirls her red hair, asks about my job and family. Tells me she loves to bake. Her oven is always hot. Calls me cute and with a wink … Continue reading
Trick or Treat
I’ve done my own research, the evidence is overwhelming. It need not be cataloged here. Donald Trump is just a character played by a comedian in a fat-suit. The ludicrous comb-over and orange makeup should have been enough for us … Continue reading
Trying to devise a metaphor as unique as you
You are the onion ring in my basket of fries. A gold finch among sparrows. You are Moët et Chandon in a case of Thunderbird. The supernova blazing in a night sky of mere twinkling stars.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 