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MONOPOLE
a novel by Bailey Stone Barnard
POEMS
- Jun 29, 2016
Hard Currency
Not all pebbles are in focus, not all dreams are still there when you wake, not all memories retain their luminosity, because life would...
- May 17, 2016
everywhere the gray-green
Everywhere the gray-green came up to Meet the dying winter sky And the trees amongst them Were heavy with longing for The Spring that...
- Jun 3, 2014
Good Poets
The poet is a procrastinator. He goes out of his way to find other things to put his mind to. The poet knows everything else he does...
- Apr 9, 2014
pontificatorily (final stage)
i wondered if you had the time of day it wouldn’t suit you if i did and so one swears that, after all of this un-going, this is where it...
- Nov 12, 2012
Pontificatorily (stage 2)
Where then have all the beleaguered thoughts disappeared? They tarry into yesteryear. What state of such recompose has lingered in that...
- Oct 6, 2012
Pontificatorily (stage 1)
"Pontificatorily (stage 1)" how do you say to say? how doesn’t one forget to rhyme? i’m not wearing any clothes today, am i? it wouldn’t...
- Jul 10, 2012
in spite all my intuitions
one couldn’t count on fingers and toes the things that help the poet disappear it’s the will of a man that keeps him walking not the...
- May 7, 2012
a breeze on the air, a blue sky
“a breeze on the air, a blue sky” He sees birds playing through the trees and remembers they exist and hates their freedom. Two lovers...
- Mar 14, 2012
dandelion parapet
“dandelion parapet” whimsical shoes remorseful they don’t walk more a cup worth of soup making love on a cool spring morning to a tin can...
- Dec 2, 2011
december (thought 21)
i dream once more of pasts gone by through life to limb of futures to come the soft wind and a clearer mind make one last complete...
- Nov 18, 2011
periscope vernacular catastrophe daffodil
“periscope vernacular catastrophe daffodil” people are just sounding boards for other people’s emotions my cell phone knows me better...
- Nov 5, 2011
how now rose grow was love
the thrill of hope is lost somehow in the petals of a gilded rose that blooms away from that what it once was it is a two-leaf flower now...
- Nov 1, 2011
The Poet’s Patience
The poet is a patient man. He has to be. You see, the poet spends all his days trying to pick the perfect thing to say and, moreover,...
- Oct 29, 2011
the lonely boy slowly slipped away
the lonely boy slowly slipped away against all things refined, awakening then one morning to find the sound of his own breath echoing off...
- Oct 23, 2011
underpants
Of so many seasons unknowing just to exist is knowing enough: The rhapsody and tambour of it all, but if it doesn't breathe you’re not...
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