This week let’s write a polygon poem. Have your poem feature a polygon of some form: a pentagon, a hexagon, an octagon, etc. Don’t be a square, post your polygonal poems in the comments below.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Triangle
From my seat at this table
It is clear
who is right
and
who is wrong
I will proclaim my judgements
assured on my seat of wisdom
that I am correct
and the others are
less so
and from behind me
God’s waiter brings me a coke
placing it on the table
at the same time as he brings one
to the others
I look at them
first on the left
then on the right
both look back toward me, in turn
and I wonder if they know
how wrong they are
and right I am
I say nothing as we all take our first sip
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Posted by Chris Clarke | March 8, 2021, 11:22 AMHow interesting. I’m getting a King Solomon vibe.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 8, 2021, 5:17 PM“There are eight sides to every argument,”
she said while sliding through a four-way stop…
http://www.bartbarkerpoet.com/2021/03/08/understanding-is-a-three-edged-sword/
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 8, 2021, 10:29 PMPrism
he is trapped in a hexagonal prism
it’s not obvious as a hamster wheel
he thinks he is going somewhere
for it stops and starts
at the edges
he wonders
why
he is tired of going uphill
why
he feels nothing at the peak
why
his tomorrow feels just like
yesterday’s old socks
he is trapped to live his life
through the prism of
what he lacks
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | March 9, 2021, 2:38 AMLove the line “tomorrow feels just like yesterday’s old socks”. Excellent simile!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 9, 2021, 5:10 PMThank you!
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | March 9, 2021, 5:12 PMHe used to joke about
living in a round house
so the devil can’t corner you
and yet
he didn’t want to ever live that way
what’s the point in life
to be afraid and run from devils
when he let them sit on the porch
they were satisfied enough
to leave his life alone
the point not in the spear
but in the open door
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | March 11, 2021, 4:18 PMExcellent!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | March 11, 2021, 5:28 PMThank you!
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Posted by Lisa Tomey | March 12, 2021, 6:37 AM