S  e  c  r  e  t  s   blackmail press 24
David Barnes

David Barnes has been an active poet since1996 and published in Australia and at many online poetry venues in America, England, and France. His work has appeared in Paris/Atlantic, anthologies released in 2001 & 2002 by Empowa Inc, Firefly Magazine U.S.A., Anthology Number (ll), Inside Out:  A Gathering of Poets, Blackmailpress Issue (11), and The Australian Journal of Arts, Ethics & Literature: Issue No. 12.  He also publishes and edits a poetry journal called Numbat pdu: http://www.aceonline.com.au/~db/numbat/

in still places

st. john boys home

  it was on friday
i said i would be there
help, raid the storeroom

  “i was caught creeping
                     in shadows.”

the cobwebs
of my mind– burn
the thud of discipline –

i flew elsewhere
down indistinct fissures
away from consuming

  “in to the longed-for
             abyss–of– nonexistence.”

i was neither here
nor there
although my friends knew
where i was;

i did not see, feel, hear
rain beating against windows –
or the howling

infinite in
my childhood-mind
a phrase kept hammered me.

  “hey things
            are, as they are; it’s time.”

time to make your final run –
no more

after, there were
no more


Shadows alive in sun

In solitude
my nights are a failure
but then, so what.

I am the bloodless battlefield of life -
and I weep like a child
for the past.

the thing I fight for
is my bit of inmost center
of peace.

Although desire maybe dead -

I am still a man
weather-beaten- windswept
out-waiting pain.

sunlight continues to filter on
as drizzle creeps down clothes- in puddles
beneath my shoes

I must confess
I have become fatigued over
the years.

It is enough you are within- as often
I am beaten.