Advertisement · 728 × 90

Posts by Bartholomew Barker

Selene I climb the mountain because that's what you do when seeking wisdom. But this is more hill than mountain. The best I can do in a day's drive. There won't be some hermit at the summit. If I see someone in a dirty robe and unkempt beard, I'll probably run. But there is a satisfying bald rock at the top, large enough to bolt…

Seeking wisdom

17 hours ago 0 0 0 0
Buried Treasure I'm digging a hole in my backyard, looking for inspiration. Bored of writing about the moon, the spring flowers or green leaves, I find beauty in pale white roots and stripes of clay through soil. Rocks who haven't seen the sun in eons, misshapen lumps that hold up the ground beneath our feet. The stones that serve as the foundation of all we've built.

Dig deep

1 day ago 0 0 0 0
Thoughts in a Bathroom at 3am I probably shouldn't have bought lunch from the hot dog cart outside the courthouse. Like I should've called a cab that night instead of trying to drive home. I also shouldn't have bought that house, not being a fixer-upper kind of guy. And I should've let her go when she was angry instead of reconciling with the future ex-wife. If only I hadn't gone to Northwestern— …

Regrets

2 days ago 0 0 0 0
Fraiku: Pastoral April heatwave Gnats and ants join our picnic for two Splendid — because of you (Written while listening to Beethoven's Sixth Symphony.)

Fraiku: Pastoral

April heatwave Gnats and ants join our picnic for two Splendid — because of you (Written while listening to Beethoven's Sixth Symphony.)

3 days ago 1 0 0 0
Prism of Spring There's a cardinal perched in my backyard waiting for me to fling this morning's seeds so he has something give his girlfriend. But first I cut an orange in half and the mist erupts into sunlight slanting in from the east. The clover has fluffed up the yard and the leaves are ready to drench the trees with summer. But the sky is still a crisp blue, …

Rainbow

4 days ago 0 0 0 0
Under Pressure I know I'm forgetting something. I can see it on tip of my tongue. It's waving at me from the just out of earshot. And it's important. Something I'm supposed to do. When I ask the children in scrubs, they're no help. People are relying on me. They have for more than seventy years and I've never let them down. And why won't anybody give me a straight answer?

Another dementia poem

5 days ago 0 0 0 0
The Kitchen of my Boyhood Lights out, except for the fluorescent over the sink, the kitchen is done being the hub of the family, at least for the day. Dinner's over but for the dishes and Dad just bought an automatic dishwasher. Almost as big as our fridge with two thick rubber tubes that latch onto the faucet, like an elephant's trunk. It sounds like a waterfall and shudders and sputters…

Nostalgia for early dishwashers.

6 days ago 0 0 0 0
First World Problems I had to get a second router just to have wifi on my back porch. They didn't have any Fiji bottled water at the grocery so I had to buy Aquafina. Filling my gas tank has gotten so expensive I've stopped large-sizing my extra value meals. All while Iranians, Palestinians and Lebanese live in dread of the next bomb, drone or bullet…

First World Problems

1 week ago 1 1 0 0
Yuri’s Night His eyes were the first to look down on our blue-green planet. His ears, the first to experience the silence of space. No wind, yet flying. Like a dream. To celebrate the 65th anniversary of Yuri Gagarin being the first human to orbit the Earth. Happy Yuri's Night!

Happy Yuri's Night!

1 week ago 2 1 0 0
Home I am renting a lovely house. It's too big for me. I only use two rooms, not counting the kitchen and bath. It's not home. I've owned a couple of houses, filled with appliances and marriages, in various stages of disrepair. But they weren't home either. I've rented cozy apartments that wrapped like a fleece robe around me, tidy and efficient, …

Where is my home?

1 week ago 0 0 0 0
Advertisement
Fraiku: Dementia The mind evaporates But the body still lives A haunted house My thanks to Robert Lee Brewer for indulging my Friday haiku habit with today's prompt. For today’s prompt, write a mini poem. I’m specifically thinking of writing a poem that is fewer than 10 lines in length, but you could also write a poem that is much longer than 10 lines in length that focuses on some mini-topic, whether that’s a small person, place, or thing; or perhaps, a small idea or institution or, well, whatever your creativity concocts. One way or another, write mini.

A haiku about dementia

1 week ago 0 0 0 0
Mother Squirrel My boys are a little slow, poor things, can't jump from fence to wooden shed and when one of them bounces down to ground, I start over. Run from ground to tree to branch to metal roof and they can't even scamper across that strange smooth surface without slipping and tumbling back down to ground so I start over. They're too old to suckle and I shoo…

Being a squirrel mother isn't easy.

1 week ago 0 0 0 0
Abibliophobia Packing for spring break, I could fit one more book in my bag, if I took out my swimsuit. I probably wouldn't go in the ocean anyway. And I don't need the black leather shoes, I won't be eating anywhere fancy, which frees up enough space for two or three more books. What if Trump pulls more shenanigans and I get stuck in an airport?

A little vacation reading

1 week ago 0 0 0 0
Moriarty climbs out the window at dusk Sometimes I see him as I walk to the tavern or back home after a couple of drinks but he doesn't acknowledge me. He focuses on something in the weeds, his tail thwaps back and forth, his haunches twitch like trees in late March about to burst. When I awake, well after dawn, I used to find a feathered or furry…

A poem about my cat, Moriarty.

1 week ago 0 0 0 0
How Poetry is like a Shovel As humans fly around the far side of the moon for the first time since I was a little boy and yesterday's rain puddles in parking lots, my thoughts turn to water. The Sea of Tranquility is not wet. The Ocean of Storms suffers no squalls. But, like love, it hides just below the lunar surface. Dig a little and you'll find it.

How Poetry is like a Shovel

2 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
Safety First, Kids! In the summers of my misspent youth, I rode with a gang of neighborhood boys through our suburban streets looking for something to do. We would come across material from which we could build a ramp: lumber, plywood, cinder blocks. A simple machine, easy to construct. Then we'd pedal like a maniac and launch both bike and boy into the air.

A poem about boys and bicycles.

2 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
Best Friends I would say we're like Damon and Pythias, but that would get me beat up at recess for reading unassigned books. My father called us Mutt and Jeff, which I had to look up in the library, before the Internet was a thing. I know I'm just the sidekick and you're the leading man. You always get the girl, all the girls.

A poem about my childhood best friend.

2 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
Fraiku: Opening Leaves Golden sprouts unfurl like fingers from a fist to slap my face with green For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Open (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “Open Season,” “Open Heart Surgery,” “Open Your Eyes,” and/or “Open Until Midnight.” So keep your mind open and see what saunters in.

Fraiku: Opening Leaves

2 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
Me and You Like a comet in the express lane, blazing its way downtown to the sun, I feel your heat invigorating things I thought long frozen. My path, once clear and predictable, becomes erratic, as if governed more by what's leaving than what remains. And if I get too close I'll break apart from the gravity of your affection. For today’s prompt…

A poem about a comet. Definitely not about me.

2 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
Parable of the Sower I cut holes in my pockets so during my daily hikes seeds fall along my path to attract the birds. Like the Pied Piper but with notebook instead of penny whistle, I lead a parade: black-masked cardinals in scarlet gowns, eastern bluebirds like sapphires in dappled sun, titmice, chickadees, house finches, sparrows, all flitting around like over-sugared children. These seeds were not meant for good soil, …

Sonnet about the Parable of the Sower

2 weeks ago 1 0 0 0
Advertisement
Fraiku: Grievances No more war, No bombs, No graft, No grift, No Kings, No Pedophile-in-Chief (Let's hit the streets tomorrow and petition our government for a redress grievances. It's in the Constitution.  No Kings!

No Kings!

3 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
Stuck in the Mud "In Just-spring when the world is mud-luscious…" ~ e. e. cummings Stepping out of the car was like planting my foot on a sponge or some shag carpet after a flood. I nearly slip as I survey my reddish-brown splattered chassis and four tires setting like the sun. An ill-chosen shortcut at this time of year has squished my fate into the ruts of some back road.

A slippery poem about the first week of spring.

4 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
Support the Troops Do you thank them for their service, those kidnappers who executed illegal orders, abducting a foreign leader? Will you praise the sacrifice of our noble troops when they march in arctic camo through downtown Nuuk, exterminating the Greenlandic threat? Will you salute our soldiers as they occupy the smoldering ruins of Toronto, Vancouver and Montreal after Trump declares poutine an addictive drug?

Support the Troops

Do you thank them for their service, those kidnappers who executed illegal orders, abducting a foreign leader? Will you praise the sacrifice of our noble troops when they march in arctic camo through downtown Nuuk, exterminating the Greenlandic threat? Will you salute our…

3 months ago 1 0 0 0
Fraiku: My To Not Do List Made a list of things not to do in the new year— checked two off today

Fraiku: My To Not Do List

Made a list of things not to do in the new year— checked two off today

3 months ago 0 0 0 0
2025 Year in Review January: Found a chapter of weather control spells in an antique book purchased in Scotland sticking snow for first time in years February: Did own research online had expensive backyard pharmacist remove all vaccines from body March: Tried cooking a recipe from scratch tasted good though had to replace all kitchen windows April: Spent most of the month in bed…

2025 Year in Review

January: Found a chapter of weather control spells in an antique book purchased in Scotland sticking snow for first time in years February: Did own research online had expensive backyard pharmacist remove all vaccines from body March: Tried cooking a recipe from scratch tasted…

3 months ago 0 0 0 0
My Dog Bobo’s at MasticadoresUSA I'm proud to announce that My Dog Bobo is appearing on MasticadoresUSA today. While he's a little older and a little slower than we wrote this poem, Bobo seemed pleased when I told him about the publication. Of course, he seemed just as pleased when he coughed up the stink bug that got into the house this morning. My thanks to Barbara Leonhard, for accepting our treatise on canine aesthetics.

My Dog Bobo’s at MasticadoresUSA

I'm proud to announce that My Dog Bobo is appearing on MasticadoresUSA today. While he's a little older and a little slower than we wrote this poem, Bobo seemed pleased when I told him about the publication. Of course, he seemed just as pleased when he coughed up…

3 months ago 0 0 0 0
Fraiku: Unity Dark side — light side different face every night but just one moon Happy First Day of Kwanzaa!  My fellow poet and blogger, A Cornered Gurl, recently posted a flattering review of my book, Milkshakes & Chilidogs. It's not too late to give one last gift in 2025. Thanks, trE!

Fraiku: Unity

Dark side — light side different face every night but just one moon Happy First Day of Kwanzaa!  My fellow poet and blogger, A Cornered Gurl, recently posted a flattering review of my book, Milkshakes & Chilidogs. It's not too late to give one last gift in 2025. Thanks, trE!

3 months ago 1 0 0 0
Santa’s Coming I get sent to bed early on Christmas Eve but do not sleep— I suspect they're lying. There's an oaken babydoll cradle hidden, unwrapped in my parents' closet, obviously my gift, obviously crafted by my father the carpenter, obviously not from Santa nor made by elves. But it seems important to play along so I settle into a long winter's nap…

Santa’s Coming

I get sent to bed early on Christmas Eve but do not sleep— I suspect they're lying. There's an oaken babydoll cradle hidden, unwrapped in my parents' closet, obviously my gift, obviously crafted by my father the carpenter, obviously not from Santa nor made by elves. But it seems…

3 months ago 0 0 0 0
Solstice to Solstice Married under the honey moon, when barely sprouted, we soon fruited and multiplied when days were forever. Learned the wisdom of autumn, as illustrated by the equinox, the need for balance, leaves yellow, hair grays. This morning the birdbath is frozen, hoarfrost reaches to the sharp dawn. Days shiver. The full moon casts her gauzy halo, recalling the veil. We've lived our long lives, now hand in wrinkled hand, wheelchairs side-by-side, welcoming the long, dark night. (Happy December Solstice!)

Solstice to Solstice

Married under the honey moon, when barely sprouted, we soon fruited and multiplied when days were forever. Learned the wisdom of autumn, as illustrated by the equinox, the need for balance, leaves yellow, hair grays. This morning the birdbath is frozen, hoarfrost reaches to…

4 months ago 0 0 0 0
Fraiku: Murmurous Dreams A tornado of starlings writing poetry with wings of ink on the blank page of the sky

Fraiku: Murmurous Dreams

A tornado of starlings writing poetry with wings of ink on the blank page of the sky

4 months ago 0 0 0 0
Advertisement