Eleven
Twenty Two
Sixty Three
I think I recall
the BBC globe
in black and white,
a spinning duality.
The program inter-
ruption in Queen’s English
like a lightning strike;
Mother’s tears,
Dad’s ambivalence —
“Your blubbering
as if you knew him!”
What youngster could
comprehend?
Yet somehow I knew
a bright star had fallen
that November day
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Poetics – Stoddard, Longfellow and Bryant say hello! (What does November mean to you?)
Waiting for the light
Returning goodness of life
Nurture it inside
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Been around the blocks
Challenged because of my age
Always beginning
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
We like boundaries
Obliquely drawn transitions
Elements in truth
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
The blank page
has the coldest stare,
no words can describe
this darkness inside,
yearning for amnesia.
Happiness, the distant land
where other people live;
I’m no denizen there,
my passport withdrawn
when you rejected me —
subjecting me —
to the pain of my self
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Ciscography 