Barbara Guest Poems

On this dry prepared path walk heavy feet.
This is not "dinner music." This is a power structure.
...

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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Sleep is 20
remembering the
insignificant flamenco dancer
in Granada
...

sound opens sound


shank of globe strings floating out
...

In the past we listened to photographs. They heard our voice speak.
Alive, active. What had been distance was memory. Dusk came,
Pushed us forward, emptying the laboratory each night undisturbed by
Erasure.
...

There is no fear
in taking the first step
or the second
or the third
...

Each artist embarks on a personal search.
An artist may take introspective refreshment from green.
...

Someone has remembered to dry the dishes;
they have taken the accident out of the stove.
Afterward lilies for supper; there
...

1

On a wall shadowed by lights from the distance
is the screen. Icons come to it dressed in capes
and their eyes reflect the journeys their nomadic
...