Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
Woke up this morning. Fell out of bed. *
Didn’t get far cause I broke my head.
So much blood. It was bright red.
I am lucky that I’m not dead.
The doctor gave me a band aid.
I got a bill that has to be paid.
Woke up this morning. Fell out of bed.
I got blues cause I got no bread.
Thanks! Yes, that’s the song. I was actually thinking about the scene in “Adventures in Babysitting” where Elizabeth Shue has to sing the blues on stage. Great 80’s flick. 🙂
He simply threw it on the ground
as he drove away from the light
Garbage, like this part of town
nowhere, no place, out of sight
where he lives
the streets are freshly paved
smooth and uniform and glistening black
paradise for his skateboarding youth
long since gone
now, a firm grip for his 275/35/20s
How long ago was that street
pocked and pebble strewn
sidewalks catawampus
with sounds of car misfires
and baseball games filling the air
the detritus of the week’s work
placed in dented metal cans out back
competing with some mother’s cooking
for supremacy of the breeze
home is more than a place you live
family and friends aren’t always
so tidy and neat as you presume they are
and the fortunes of that
garbage side town may not be as bright
as you seem to think yours is
better that precious band-aid
garbage
be used to hold your soul together
to keep you from falling away
sliding off the face of the earth
before the crack become too wide to mend
with just a simple plastic strip
Nice phrase: ‘Competing with some Mother’s cooking’ and ‘sidewalks catawampus’..that word stands out too, since the whole clearly imaged scene, seems lovingly ‘catawampus’.
Thank you for asking! That is a tire size. The middle number is how high the tire material sits above the rim. A 30 is a very narrow tire and is only found on the most expensive sports cars, like a Ferrari. 😎
The lake flows as if it were remembering
how to be a river
the south by southeast direction drains
toward equilibrium.
So much can shift that is believed to be fixed,
anomaly is the doorway to wisdom.
There is the mind in you awake to suddenness
in you is also the encompassing eye.
We do not die from expansion
the way we shrivel from distinction.
All the way home she suffered
and got there empty as a stone
but healing came with mittens of fog
and she knew, arising as mist, she knew.
Living Poetry 
Woke up this morning. Fell out of bed. *
Didn’t get far cause I broke my head.
So much blood. It was bright red.
I am lucky that I’m not dead.
The doctor gave me a band aid.
I got a bill that has to be paid.
Woke up this morning. Fell out of bed.
I got blues cause I got no bread.
*not a true story
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Posted by JeanMarie | February 11, 2022, 4:58 PMSung to the tune of Bad to the Bone. Great stuff! (And glad it’s not a true story.)
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | February 11, 2022, 5:09 PMThanks! Yes, that’s the song. I was actually thinking about the scene in “Adventures in Babysitting” where Elizabeth Shue has to sing the blues on stage. Great 80’s flick. 🙂
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Posted by JeanMarie | February 11, 2022, 5:28 PMWhat a fun picture! It inspired this American Haiku
Bandage on Concrete?
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Posted by Second Act Blogger | February 11, 2022, 3:05 PMHa! Nice one.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | February 11, 2022, 4:53 PMLike I told my daughter today, even if the poem is bad, it is short so it doesn’t waste too much of the reader’s
time!
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Posted by Second Act Blogger | February 11, 2022, 5:40 PMHe simply threw it on the ground
as he drove away from the light
Garbage, like this part of town
nowhere, no place, out of sight
where he lives
the streets are freshly paved
smooth and uniform and glistening black
paradise for his skateboarding youth
long since gone
now, a firm grip for his 275/35/20s
How long ago was that street
pocked and pebble strewn
sidewalks catawampus
with sounds of car misfires
and baseball games filling the air
the detritus of the week’s work
placed in dented metal cans out back
competing with some mother’s cooking
for supremacy of the breeze
home is more than a place you live
family and friends aren’t always
so tidy and neat as you presume they are
and the fortunes of that
garbage side town may not be as bright
as you seem to think yours is
better that precious band-aid
garbage
be used to hold your soul together
to keep you from falling away
sliding off the face of the earth
before the crack become too wide to mend
with just a simple plastic strip
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Chris Clarke | February 8, 2022, 12:45 PMNice phrase: ‘Competing with some Mother’s cooking’ and ‘sidewalks catawampus’..that word stands out too, since the whole clearly imaged scene, seems lovingly ‘catawampus’.
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Posted by ts19page | February 8, 2022, 4:57 PMLove that last stanza. Good job!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | February 8, 2022, 8:12 PMGreat final stanza.
I’m curious about what this means: “now, a firm grip for his 275/35/20s”
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Posted by JeanMarie | February 11, 2022, 4:56 PMThank you for asking! That is a tire size. The middle number is how high the tire material sits above the rim. A 30 is a very narrow tire and is only found on the most expensive sports cars, like a Ferrari. 😎
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Chris Clarke | February 11, 2022, 9:04 PMUnderwater
The lake flows as if it were remembering
how to be a river
the south by southeast direction drains
toward equilibrium.
So much can shift that is believed to be fixed,
anomaly is the doorway to wisdom.
There is the mind in you awake to suddenness
in you is also the encompassing eye.
We do not die from expansion
the way we shrivel from distinction.
All the way home she suffered
and got there empty as a stone
but healing came with mittens of fog
and she knew, arising as mist, she knew.
You only hear me when you love me.
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Posted by ts19page | February 7, 2022, 10:23 AMLove the “mittens of fog”. Great work!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | February 7, 2022, 7:48 PMThank you, Bartholomew!
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Posted by ts19page | February 7, 2022, 9:43 PMLike the wisdom you drew from the picture.
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | February 9, 2022, 2:57 AMThank you, Cassa.
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Posted by ts19page | February 9, 2022, 10:06 AMFailed Attempt
I was so naiive
Rush to comfort you
Like a tiny Band-Aid
Assuming love mends all
Didn’t realise
I was pouring love
into a bottomless crack
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | February 7, 2022, 7:53 AMExcellent! Love this interpretation of the prompt.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | February 7, 2022, 7:45 PM😊
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Posted by Cassa Bassa | February 7, 2022, 8:27 PM