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David Barnes Poem
Starts with love, at least for most
The best of times, if only we could remember
Then rules and tasks from those who know best
Learning, playing, character building pain
Uniformed sessions, odd days in the park
A memory ratio for adults to mock
Ambitions take hold, good job, nice house
Nose to the grindstone, piece of cake
Reality check, dreams cost the earth
A little adjustment back on track
Family crossroads or large roundabout
Nothing’s for certain the constant is doubt
Final destination, X marks the spot
This is me happy, so why am I not
Buy a new compass that’s my advice
Or find religion and re-roll the dice
End on a sermon, though you know it's too late
We all end up rhyming, no blame, call it fate
Copyright © David Barnes | Year Posted 2009
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David Barnes Poem
You cannot be serious
That ball was out
Sorry J. McEnroe
There’s no longer a doubt
The days of valve TVs
You tuned with a thump
And recording the charts
With cassette tape key clunks
Of writing a letter
You mailed in the post
Not mailing your client
Via some web server’s host
Or talking in person
Arrangements to make
Not sending a text
They can read in their break
Of reading a book
Or playing a game
No time to waste
It’s soap TV time again
The music’s much louder
The print face so small
Don’t worry J. McEnroe
It’s progress, that's all.
Copyright © David Barnes | Year Posted 2009
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David Barnes Poem
Something sad came over me the other day
You know that feeling, like you should be out there,
out there being somebody,
out there living.
Thing is, it passed and, when I felt right again
I realized, I realized I already was.
Just from someone else's perspective.
C’est la vie
Copyright © David Barnes | Year Posted 2009
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David Barnes Poem
A word a line, a string of thoughts,
is this how we are defined?
A jigsaw puzzle of literary pieces,
tendons of thought in the mind.
There’s always more than can be expressed,
more than we know how to convey.
So the question begs, is it what we write that counts
or the way that it’s read on the day?
Is God in the box or holding the pieces?
Is all knowledge contained inside?
The bible, the dictionary, the meaning of life;
which one is for you to decide.
Our corner pieces help to define;
the earth, the sea, the sky.
But still the search must go on
for that ill fitting piece called ‘why’.
Copyright © David Barnes | Year Posted 2009
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