Haiku: Stumps

Wandering deserts
No one misses mesa stumps
Truth like lightening bolts

Copyright Francis 2022

Poetry: ‘King Hobo’

Narcissus can’t hold a candle
to me,
at once both King of Colorado —
entitled hobo of Nowhere.
Look there! That’s my face in the sky,
cacti and mesas my sole friends,
watching while I sift through the shards
of cultures few suspect.
Though none believe me now, riches
and the future are mine;
these silent silver craft
haunting me,
they’ll be all around you soon —
I am digging their past.

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

The Possible Berber connection to the lost kingdom of atlantis — Passport Overused

When I learned about the possible connection, I was completely mind blown. I never expected the lost city of Atlantis having roots to the biggest desert on earth. What I’m about to say and point out, will be very controversial. So, let’s start with what was the known map according to Herodotus. As you can […]

via The Possible Berber connection to the lost kingdom of atlantis — Passport Overused

Poem: Red Dress (Distant Thunder)

adventure arid arizona barren — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Got me in a fix again, I see
a white rider in the sky.
Mesa mountain and inselberg draw me
where no avatar can lie.

I got a seat on a wagon train for free,
hazel eyes stare back in fright.
Overhead the milky way guides me,
sacred spirit of the night.

By the dirt house, all in patient pose;
a prairie wind blows her dress.
Devil sun and skull of buffalo,
red is grey where none confess.

Harvest in, piece of grass in my lips,
shadow birds cross amber sky.
She’s here – drops the dress to her hips –
the nest of red where we’ll lie

Poem ‘A Time of Dreams’

A Time of Dreams

I found myself in a country
of huge living skies,
speaking your dreams
of earth, the great teacher.
I was standing by a mesa,
felt its warmth against my skin,
fingers spanning epochs
flattened into inches,
whispering mantras
and prayers in your name,
not in memory
but for your continuing
presence of love.
I spoke to you,
my spine square to red earth;
you were there in each rock,
the cactus, every molecule of air,
in the eagle’s eye lasering my soul.
When finally I awoke
it was another age, as if seconds
had stretched into centuries.
But you were there
and took my hand.
It was the most natural thing

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Got me in a fix again, I see a white rider in the sky. Mesa mountain and inselberg draw me where no avatar can lie.

I got a seat on a wagon train for free, hazel eyes stare back in fright. Overhead the milky way guides me, sacred spirit of the night.

By the dirt house, all in patient pose; a prairie wind blows her dress. Devil sun and skull of buffalo, red is grey where none confess.

Harvest in, piece of grass in my lips, shadow birds cross amber sky. She’s here – drops the dress to her hips – the nest of red where we’ll lie

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Got me in a fix again, I see
a white rider in the sky.
Mesa mountain and inselberg draw me
where no avatar can lie.

I got a seat on a wagon train for free,
hazel eyes stare back in fright.
Overhead the milky way guides me,
sacred spirit of the night.

By the dirt house, all in patient pose;
a prairie wind blows her dress.
Devil sun and skull of buffalo,
red is grey where none confess.

Harvest in, piece of grass in my lips,
shadow birds cross amber sky.
She’s here – drops the dress to her hips –
the nest of red where we’ll lie