Barbara Guest Poems

On this dry prepared path walk heavy feet.
This is not "dinner music." This is a power structure.
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Once more riding down to Venice on borrowed horses,
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Cloud fields change into furniture
furniture metamorphizes into fields
an emphasis falls on reality.
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The simple contact with a wooden spoon and the word
recovered itself, began to spread as grass, forced
as it lay sprawling to consider the monument where
patience looked at grief, where warfare ceased
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Each artist embarks on a personal search.
An artist may take introspective refreshment from green.
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Someone has remembered to dry the dishes;
they have taken the accident out of the stove.
Afterward lilies for supper; there
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The form of the poem subsided, it enters another poem.

A witness was found for the markings inscribed upside-down.
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After so many hours spent in the room,
One wonders what the room will do.
Whether speech or action will be first,
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Early night and the evening bus
Passing with a new wreath around
Its straggled head. The push cart
Halts and fifty pineapple eyes stare
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An opposing force nestles closer
— to the four square of its joint
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