Barry Middleton Poems

Life and death will be what they will be;
there is no card to leave the jail for free.

And in the end we rant and rail and pray,
...

reality and fantasy
mixing with infinity
gently pour into a quiet dream
...

the wind is gently stirring
it is the restless breath of August

the earth is yet alive
...

I died three years ago
no one noticed
probably because I kept on moving
...

we try to avoid them
but there are holes to fall into
dark pits
...

another bleak and lonely night
without a guiding star in sight

though many walked this road before
...

depression is not a cloud
it is more like a monster
it can't be tamed or killed
...

he knows the end must come to be
and he admits he is afraid
for he surrenders sovereignty
with all his orders finally staid
...

the bees know something
they hide in the swamp
where the tupelo grows
...

he can't conceal the future with the past
no longer does he hear the patient breeze
he knows that men and mountains cannot last
for both return to vast and primal seas
...