Nothing but the breath

I hold

A moment in my lungs

To let it go

I’m free


Going nowhere

I go everywhere

In mind and heart

I care to fly above

Below I know

This only thing

I do not know

I cannot even

Grow am grown

Torn down

Without a frown

No tear or thing

Too dear to weigh

Me back I lack

No thing I need

Only the air

And to be fair

Between us Just

A must

Concede this only

Always lonely

Without truth

©K Barr




Truth Tales


Grip of lip

So not to slip

Not wanting truth

To trip to hit

Through words

Uptight in fright

Of Self the fight

Such wrestling within

I must not say

The things I feel

Must reel them in

For you my friend

Don’t want to know

The evil that we do

We dress in fancy names

Like party games

I am accustomed to

This fate of hating

Things unfair we do

Our darkness never

Should be dared

My friend by who

By me and you

It grows unbidden

Once is born

And this is truth

We live to mourn

The things we never meant

But slew just all the same


©K Barr

Prose Prophesy and Prosthesis


When in the comicals

Of waste and slime

I see descriptions

Of the fair no blight

Such beauty making

False a crime

Are these but prophesies

In this our time

For we that look upon

Our best and worst

Should we so light

Dismiss a curse

In praise of what

We’d rather see

Could not our tongues

Seek skill sublime

To word the whole

Divine complexity

We be beyond

Mere beauty

We are free

To mar or mark

The all of you

That’s also in

And of the All

In all of me


©K Barr



In the weak mid-winter

Of my soul I know

The whole of me

Can grow


My own inside

The kind humanity

I long to be

This freedom

Is our end

In this beginning

We can send

Ourselves to rest

Be safe at home

In earth this body

Each hour in trust

To fear no evil

It will be as dust

Borne lightly on the wings

Of wise that span so wide

All time will not divide

The weak Mid-winter

Of each soul

I know is pure is whole

Is thine and mine

We are each one

Divine seek truth

Through bleak

Mid-Winter week

See soul and know.


K Barr





Very messy

In the mass

Of motion

That is nest of me

Dis-order unarranged

In process of a change

Not meditated


Not so strange

As when you see

Such perfectly

Aligned refinement

Of design will never

Ring the bells

Of truth to tell

The tales of life

Are active


As we go rolling

Tolling stories

As unfolding tales

Of living we’re in

Strife to be alive

Not dead and said


©K Barr