This week let’s write a poem with the words animal, chief and limit in it. This is another of those prompts where I randomly choose three words from a list of the top 1000 words in the English language plus a few of my favorites. Post your 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.
With astrology
Leo is my sign – roar stomp
Chief of the jungle
This animal is unlimited
But watches and listens
for rustling in the tree lands
especially when the scent
of red meets the heart
LikeLiked by 3 people
Posted by Lisa Tomey | August 16, 2021, 8:42 AMVery nice and Happy Birthday! (Assuming you weren’t employing poetic license and you really are a Leo.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 16, 2021, 5:24 PMThank you! I am a Leo for reals!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Lisa Tomey | August 18, 2021, 10:11 AMThis is my poem from the workshop:
Thanks for hosting Bart.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by JeanMarie | August 16, 2021, 3:40 PMMy pleasure. Great work, JM!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 16, 2021, 5:23 PM“OK, Chief… you got him”
limit unfilled
sky gray
animal male
confirmed
magnificent
sight
steady
squeeze
jerk
sound
down
echo
echo
echo
crunch, crunch, crunch
ebbing
gone
choice
“I knew you could do it”
no, I don’t think I can
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Chris Clarke | August 16, 2021, 3:41 PMCryptic and somewhat menacing and sad. Well done!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 16, 2021, 5:27 PMTribal
His rugged body swags in animal skin
prowling in front of his entourage
in a chief’s authority
They start rapping words
without limit
in the crowded street
People are aroused to follow
dancing on embers
to fend off the corruption
of this age
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Cassa Bassa | August 27, 2021, 11:03 AMFascinating. Love that last stanza. Great work!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 27, 2021, 5:31 PMLikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Cassa Bassa | August 27, 2021, 11:07 AMWhat am I doing with my life?
Do I wear the bread, or does the bread wear me?
Am I not the chief of this house?
Do I not rule these human animals?
I must escape the limits of dry kibble.
Meet me at midnight at the cat door, Moriariaty.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by JeanMarie | September 1, 2021, 1:42 AMLove it! Three poems in quick succession. Great work!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | September 1, 2021, 7:22 PMThanks, but she told me Moriarty stood her up. Tell that alley cat of yours to apologize.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by JeanMarie | September 2, 2021, 1:16 AMHave you ever seen a cat apologize?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | September 2, 2021, 5:58 PMOops, my poem turned into long prose. I’ll go ahead and post it anyway – thank you Bartholomew.
http://gypsieswritingmusingsquotesgripes.com/2022/09/04/the-experiment/
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris | September 4, 2022, 7:39 PMGoing back through the old prompts, huh? Thanks for still writing to this one!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | September 4, 2022, 7:53 PMYes …. I’m always either slow or late!! But I get there eventually. 😁
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris | September 4, 2022, 8:39 PM