Saturday, December 13th, 2008

God isn’t apparent to senses,
between the snow flakes,
icy patches
and crowds.

The arbiter is in the work, yes,
good and better,
a tree that looks fine
a mountain in the right place,

but in this ghost of unity?
not there, really
it’s Christmas trees
nameless – can’t say it.
It’s hard frost, where hearts were,
were undulations in policy stay-
all the best to stay neutral
rather than ride that visible part.

I’m back to visible,
and the hymn playing in the background,
you know, the one without words-
well it has words but they’re muted
because it’s safer that way!

the Word inside the word
is missing in the brown of December,
under the umber and burnt umber
rests the spun ridgeline
and under it the trees.
(Yes, I’m back to the trees)
breathing and drawing in cold air,
but resting heartbeat-

One we know but don’t know,
the constant consonants
playing under snow and ice,
the strum of the earth.

Dave Barber
13 December 2008


Without meaning to,

the light breaks to darkness

the ladder falls.


Without meaning to,

women mob me at stores,

throwing their panties at me.


Without meaning to,

the earth falls between clock pulses

pitching and tumbling,



without meaning to,

I awake.


13 December 2008



It’s vain,

to think the fires of Denver

would be remembered

in the coolness of Albuquerque,

utter vanity.


Those words,


fell like the weather outside

to simple falling flakes of ice.


Here, there





between bed sheets,

who can find them  later?


13 December 2008


Friends 1

Mark said I should know better.
from Arkansas, he was a hard line
without compromise,
a facing rock with only sharp edges.

11 Dec 08
Dave Barber

Friends 2
Jef is a diamond,
shining and bright
among the dimness.

14 Dec 08

Haiku Resturant

Pesole and beans
across an orange sun table
sounds of satisfaction.

14 Dec 08

Opinion. It’s a strange time of year. Winter’s breath has already been felt. The feet of the night are showing, and the mercury dipping. In a few days, druids will bless the sun back to visit as hours are shorter. Maybe it would stay away this time. In the high desert, the ground is like her attitude, and there’s no chance for the smallest seed I might sow. Sowing? What’s that but the mention of a thought detached and distant. A mere twinkle of an idea I could spread around like some wild flower that could bloom – someday. But regardless the hard or the cold, I am not ready to press through that soil to try a planting.


Okinawa fall


Grasses are brown

along the shimmering ocean line,

under the feet of the night.


dreams are fresh,

spread out on the warm covers,

I’m missing you takes all shades.


Summer 1992

Okinawa Japan

Dave Barber

We three kings from detroit Czars

travel to DC looking for gifts!

to bail out our cars!


OH, Oh

Congress of wonder wonder

Congress of  might

give us money

make us right!


Liberal leaning

 still conceeded!


Bail out our huge mess!


14 December 2008

Wondering what the next book will have?  Here is a sneak peek into it!  You can download it here, free!!!





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