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Poetry Prompts

May Musical Poetry Prompt

This musical clip is a little longer than I’ve shared before at eleven minutes but I find lots of interesting emotions welling up when I listen. Let’s see what you hear in the comments below.

About Bartholomew Barker

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.

Discussion

21 thoughts on “May Musical Poetry Prompt

  1. i like your music
    a rarity for me
    glad i found you

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Cressida | July 4, 2022, 2:35 AM
  2. Farewell My Lover

    The tangerine sun sets on our last night together
    The breeze is humid
    an excuse to our moistened eyes
    Your skin still burns on mine
    My hair is still soaked in the summer heat

    Tonight the song is sorrowful
    Tomorrow you’ll saddle for a foreign land
    leaving my wanting heart behind
    How much slower a second can be
    split in half, even a quarter

    The moon shows her sad face
    glistened with tears blotting the sky
    My soul wilts
    Latching on your strength
    till the morning glow bathes our sin clean

    The last sight of you
    Combing the mane before your journey
    My hair become fragrant and sleek
    Dust and cracked soil takes you away
    Our love is tainted all over again

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by Cassa Bassa | June 6, 2022, 6:29 PM
  3. Guitar strings rumble
    their vibration up my spine
    and into my heart

    Feed me tapas
    and paella senor

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by JeanMarie | June 5, 2022, 2:58 AM
  4. We are all kin
    from the steppe
    to the caves of Sidron
    beyond all the known lands
    to find a place
    keeping what is dear
    thoughts of home
    fragrance of hearth
    lost to memory
    but ever present
    in their calling
    as we are the heirs
    of all that have come before
    and in time
    we too will raise
    our silent voices
    in the music
    of a time
    still to come

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Chris Clarke | June 2, 2022, 5:17 PM
  5. Beautiful blog! Would love for you to check out mine and let me know what you think.

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by Isha | June 2, 2022, 1:12 PM
  6. The wandering deserts spill some rain
    wetting the hopes of a new love
    oiling the wheels of our endless fate
    to love and to lose and to live
    with the winds kicking us in the face
    in gritty, rustic, paprika blows
    as the red sunset merges into the black night

    Liked by 3 people

    Posted by utopicdystopian | May 30, 2022, 10:19 PM
    • Great work. Love those last two lines!

      Liked by 1 person

      Posted by Bartholomew Barker | May 30, 2022, 11:06 PM
      • Woodland Music

        The forest dwellers grew tall and thin,
        by concordance, likely.
        Everything is vertical
        where the slim trees grow high,

        Branches try for upward,
        and the water flows in narrow streams
        which green-like in the deep woods light,
        are hard to find, but by sound.

        She, from the wide horizontal plains
        with arms tight to her sides
        angled between the trunks,
        walking sideways.

        The music in the trees
        was high, thin,
        and rose
        as if to resonant space.

        She murmured a flat tune,
        rippling like wheat fields
        rough, and productive
        carrying heavy summer sunlight,

        When a nest-like clearing appeared
        she lay down, arms outstretched,
        touching bark with one finger
        and moss on the trunk, with the other.

        It was clear why the birds
        only seemed to rise above
        the high tops of trees,
        nothing was above the trees.

        She, far below, was no bird.
        more akin to small mice,
        that tittered
        about her hair.

        High up where tops of trees
        left small spaces of grey light
        where one could search for sunbeams,
        and watching fall asleep.

        Curled on her side
        she woke to see shoes,
        legs, and far above
        black hair crowning a face.

        She jumped up, speechless,
        he was smiling,
        brushing the moss from her hair
        she was ready to run.

        Silently, he held out
        a most astonishing
        thing,
        a white rose.

        The single ray of sunlight
        caught it head on,
        it was impossible not to stare,
        his eyes sparkled with shadow and light.

        He beckoned, she followed.

        Liked by 2 people

        Posted by ts19page | May 31, 2022, 12:11 PM
      • A lovely story!

        Liked by 1 person

        Posted by Bartholomew Barker | May 31, 2022, 7:14 PM
    • Like the ‘paprika’ allusion with the red sunset.

      Liked by 1 person

      Posted by ts19page | May 31, 2022, 10:54 AM
    • Paprika blows! Yes, the last two lines are great.

      Liked by 1 person

      Posted by JeanMarie | June 5, 2022, 2:40 AM

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