Thursday, January 18, 2018

The Cruelest Month

January is the cruelest month.
Fuck what T.S. Eliot said.
He was a phony Brit wannabe
with a bowler on his head.

Don't whine to me, Eliot
about your memory and desire,
as you sit there snug and warm
writing by your cozy fire.

Did you ever have to have your car
towed out of a snowy ditch?
If not then don't cry to me
you sniveling little bitch.

Have you ever walked in a blizzard
until you felt your eyeballs freeze,
or slipped on an icy sidewalk and
come down hard on your knees?

Don't moan to me about April
if you haven't shoveled your drive
after three feet of snow has fallen,
or maybe even four or five.

If you prefer the winter months
with forgetful snow covering the ground,
then pack your bags and move to Lapland
and take your buddy Ezra Pound. -- Jeff Barnes

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Early Morning Moon

Remnant of the night
it hovers,
crisscrossed by branches
like a winter bird. - Jeff Barnes

Tuesday, January 2, 2018


January dusk --
a more gentle darkening
colors the snow pink. - Jeff Barnes

Sunday, December 31, 2017


Tree shadows on snow
in the pre-midnight moonlight --
last night of the year. - Jeff Barnes

Thursday, December 21, 2017


Morning glow of trees
leafless in the rising sun –
Winter Solstice Day. – Jeff Barnes


Last autumn sunset –
ice blue and melon pink sky.
Windows catch the light. – Jeff Barnes