I began writing at 18 years of age when I took up folk guitar,
performing at folk centers around main-land Australia and Tasmania.
I worked as a carpenter in Melbourne, leaving for the bush in the early 60's,
finally settling in Perth 1972.I became a full-time writer poet in 1996.
I have been an active Internet poet, and have been published in Australia and
at many online poetry venues in America, England and France.
I was first published in the Paris/Atlantic,a literary journal in 2001.
I also have poetry published in Anthologies released in 2001 & 2002 by Empowa Inc.
here in Western Australia.Further work has been published in Firefly Magazine
and in the Poets Hall of Fame Anthology released late 2001.
My poetry has been acccepted for an Anthology Number ( ii ) with its release in Austin U.S.A., 2003.
I was featured poet in the September Issue of Poetic Voices 2003.
In addition to writing I have been the publisher/editor of Poetry Downunder 1998-2002,
an online poetry site now known as Numbat Poetry Journal.
established January 2003.
No release -- No connection
Like light in a bottle of stone
Like the lotus eater I will lose my dream
lose myself - yet I am the door.
Knock and be open.
Love beyond love beyond
a paradox is dark and light --
to live I die.
Am I not I who is anybody?
A luminous being carked in frail flesh bone --
waiting for the light's release to be tested.
To live utterly without fear
is a fearsome thing.
To live
is a terrible thing
the whole world magnifies:-
And you who burn so bright in the dark
of all nights - when I am tested
Will I burn like a star?
© debarnes 2003
Unspoken-wordless - words
Young lovers wipe wet hair away
from their ears and eyes,
lips cool kiss:
oh how -
we combine words, crave for inspiration
and we like to let possibilities roll --
like pebbles down a slope.
Sometimes the pebbles come to rest
create nothing.
a vision sparks an avalanche inside -
endless possibilities scribbled on a beer coaster,
any scrap of paper.
I don't know what I would have done
had I not captured the moment.
© debarnes July 2003 -22nd
This wrong or right in life
I have watched one-path separate in the dead of night
I have watched the final breath released without pain -
I have walked along long corridors, bathed in dim light.
I have looked through windows that reflected strain
I have looked in to vacant eyes; death-white as a sheet.
with no tears to shed, sapped at the loss - unable to explain -
I have sat stilled by the sound of the hastening feet;
when far away there seemed an interrupted soulful cry
that come from distant quarters connected to a hearts beat:
though not to call my return - or say a word good-bye;
the night’s inner torment watched an unearthly flight
and anguish engulfs; such-love demands wounds - night sighs -
Who determines the right to life or death the wrong or right?
I have watched one-path separate in the dead of night.
© debarnes November 2003 - 27
Shadows alive in sun
In solitude my nights are a failure
but then, so what -?
long I have been damaged
crippled/
unsure that I can continue to fight
unsure if I will be able to persevere all day --
days, typical tomorrows:
I am the bloodless battlefield of life
and I weep like a child
for the past.
One thing I fight for
is my little bit of inward peace
although desire maybe dead.
I am still a man --
weather-beaten windswept
out-waiting pain.
Yet sunlight continues to filter on --
drizzle creeps down clothes forming puddles
beneath my shoes.
I must confess
I have become fatigued over the years
my autumn-love.
It is enough you are within
as often I am beaten.
© debarnes July 2003 -23
The mating game
I saw
two Willy Wagtail's today
a simple thing:
watching
these small birds boogie -
flaunting
wagging their tails
undisturbed
by people passing.
I think of the woman
who contentedly
walked past them:
a young mans arm
draped across her shoulder’s -
hips -
moving in tandem
flirting.
© debarnes February 2002 -26
Thoughts in winter
In autumn
I always thought you would never leave...
but now its winter.
The Wisteria has shed all its autumn leaves
a carpet down the driveway ...
against the verandah beam - the creeper
is shaky at the far end.
You told me autumn would never end ...
that I should stop smoking
it would be my death.
Words -
still in my head - recollections
of middle age.
©debarnes July 2001 -03
