Our contact is painful, sporadic,
remote, your response is typical,
and so predictable.
How can such a high IQ
produce an attitude like this?
“Wash your hands,” you’re told.
You ask “how many times?”
Now your silence says it all.
I have always washed my hands,
common sense suggests
such practices are sound, though
now especially when it comes to
you.
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Birds go where they wish
Terns can fly from pole to pole
Thoughts go anywhere
Of all the types of poetry, the pastoral theme is probably the most English. Listen to Milly’s take on one of the most important English poets from the midlands, John Clare.
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
catalpa, heart-shaped and boney your daddy died years ago, in redress of his mind, where I leave my fingers on the stone…
“In Mind” Poem Published in Ephemeral Elegies. — Lucy’s Works
*Very well done. I am reminded of the work of Sylvia Plath, who work is still an inspiration.
They think I’m losing my mind,
that my time to live is almost done.
They say I’ve had my day,
that I don’t deserve what I’ve spent
my whole life saving up for,
these few short years which fly by
at an ever increasing speed,
toward some stark oblivion,
a fate which awaits even those
who would question my worth
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Ciscography 