March 2009

“We must all jointly suffer… We must all suffer to be the same. Self-interests are condemned.”

But it’s that a loss of individualism? Isn’t this what we warned before this administration took the reins of command?  Sacrificing your self- interests for the common good is losing the very strength of the nation.  But who is defining the common good?  Why the administration.  You become a number.  A robot that can be programmed to behave in an approved way.  You’ve sold yourself.  And you’ll be told how wonderful it is, how caring you are that you’ve sacrificed.

“Where there is sacrifice, there is someone collecting the sacrifice, where there is service, there is someone being served. The person who speaks to you of sacrifice is speaking of slaves and masters and intends to be the master.” Ann Rand


Who Speaks of sacrifice?  Who speaks of service and what is really meant?

Ah to kiss you,
in the garden of caresses,

Your smooth, soft skin
roses red blushing
as you,

every petal
needs touching!

Ah, to touch,
to caress!
to kiss
those petals,
those inner petals,

March 2009

Here is a free Chapbook!

24 hours Chapbook

24 hours Chapbook





Here is my book “Painting with Fingers” Free for everyone!  Please check it out!




Where the Fence Line Runs! is available on! Check it out!

by Dave Barber

I let it go.
Waves throw it back,
White bodies and twisting vines
Wrapping on hollow trunks
and slopes
Black ocean foaming at the mouth
Can’t wait to return.

A Flower blooms,
fades, dies
And the seed wanders
through The shade to sun,
stones covering one by one
until it can’t grow –
The heart of what they covered,

Ants dissemble a moth
A morsel at a time
Carry it by me,
I’m weary of seeing them.

You break, rise up and crack
Glance away
and then return
Forgetting to call
Only I don’t
It’s back again.


Western paintings,
Converging lines that set
a Point where reality fades to guesses
And Even the simple break of
Color can’t decide the outcome.

Japanese painting lack this
Maybe because they
Can’t see the changes or where
Any points fade or maybe
They don’t concern themselves with Outside the lines.

focusing on the shallow,

translucent tones and
barren cherry limbs hanging over
waters, a single koi circling
reality to a fixed point.

Odd Hours
by Dave Barber

Odd Hours

It’s one AM
When I’m most myself
Even surprised at
The thoughts leaking

Out between the ticks,
Groans to the next
Hour awakens, My

Shadow driving inward toward
Three Am. The last

Thorn is pulled and I
Apply a downy mass

Resting on the Sandia
Mountains, they’re beautiful
Now at 5 Am. My gaze is
Caught in my throat and

Soft cold air touches my skin
Before I have to form
Words and be
Someone social again.

Work Pieces
by Dave Barber

Work, love, memories
sunrise sunset start
sleep exhaustion
sunrise, sunset, restlessness.

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