There is no doubt poets out there. Staying just out of reach. If you glance just right, you might see one. Staying out of the light. Just beyond our comprehension. I want to believe that they are there. I value your belief that poets can be found. I believe they are there!
Dave Barber
Please comment! This is your chance!
If you send an email with your poem,
I’ll post it as a guest author!
Dave
Update!!!! Come on folks! Let me hear from you! I’ll post your
poetry right here!
Where are you? I’d love to hear from you!
Wow!!! Over 3300 visits!!!! I’m excited to see the interest in this photography and interest in poetry!!! Thank you so much!!!
Dave
27 Oct 08
dbarber59
November 23, 2008 at 10:27 pm
i believe…the only way to spell grey is with an e
that we poets can recognize each other on
subway cars, in run-down train stations…
in libraries that still have the wooden chairs, tables
i believe
the smoke from our wood fire
surrounds me like a keening shawl..
i believe when i stand at the edge of the circle
the drums in time with my heart…
the songs we sing around the drum
songs without words
so our children will never forget…
November 23, 2008 at 10:31 pm
That is true! I met a poet waiting in an airport once. She was so excited that someone else was actually studying poetry and writing. It was a wonderful conversation! I enjoyed it!
Dave
March 30, 2009 at 7:14 am
Mountain tops will listen
to how blue sky cryes
Oh how sunshine glisten
alltime within my eyes
and goose rest roof top
soon with mooses moonshine
women with papoose go
with juices though at noontime
so for this that blanket made
through rivers wade
for berries layed
and time will tell
what God says.
March 30, 2009 at 6:57 pm
walking in the words
through the lonely night
till dawn
drawning.
July 12, 2009 at 9:08 am
Poets of the world unite!
Flesh
Now is the time
Hurry before it’s too late!
The darkened streets are
Lit with the glow of the street lights
Hurry now
Sin is waiting for you
The man with the dark eyes
And the woman with her short skirt
Business in the city
Under the cover of night
Back alleys and bar rooms
Smoky haze in the air
While the children wait
Lonely in their beds
Mothers try and earn a living
Working in the trade of flesh
Peddlers of sin
Count only their dollars
As their wallets get filled
And another child cries in the night
Kara Douglas
10/08c
July 12, 2009 at 10:28 am
Hi Kara, it’s been a long time! Hope you’re doing well! I love your poem. I haven’t had much luck with my last book. It seems that folks don’t read poetry any longer.
Dave
July 14, 2009 at 5:19 pm
I know what you mean. I had walked away for awhile but the poetry has called me back.
Just keep it up, you have a gift and you have a responsibility to use it.
July 15, 2009 at 6:51 pm
You’re very sweet! Thanks Kara, I’ll keep writing.