Biography of David Barlow
David Barlow Poems
American Remembrance (An Epitaph)
U.S. Troops Killed in Iraq. March 2003 to May 2007 You did your duty, And paid the ultimate price.
I am not in love, But I am drawn to you, Like a Moth to a candle flame.
Judged and found guilty and sentence pronounced. Life for the love I couldn’t denounce. Pure gentle and true, though tinged with blue. Is that such a crime, my love for you.
What is in a kiss, Body and soul, heart and mind, When lovers lips meet. Without that kiss emptiness,
We were loves young dream such a long time ago, A pretty young girl and her handsome beau. Just out of our teens and our lives all before us, Not a care in the world and so deeply in love.
Welcome Home Soldier
Brave Soldier wounded in Iraq, Lost his Mate in the same attack. Sent back home to the NHS; Military Hospitals all closed now.
You Got Mail
Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, cant wait for the mail every day. Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, like a child on Christmas Eve. Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, eyes bright with delight I have one. Re, Re. Re, Re, Re, hungrily devour every word.
Your Suicide Note really tore at my heart, When I saw your picture and read what you said. It effected me deeply and I could not sleep, For thinking of you, not wanting you dead.
You Got No Mail
Go to favourites and click onto Hotmail Excitedly type in the password and wait Inbox says empty my spirits sink low Wanting you near me, waiting to hear
Don’t cry, don’t cry please, Suns shining flowers blooming, Life’s worth living now.
Your eyes said kiss me,
1966 (A Monologue)
Everyone will have a year they never forget and for a number of reasons mine is 1966. I was 18 and King of the Hill in 66, knew it all, but knew nothing at all.
You came to me again last night, And in my dreams I held you so tight. I smell your sweet perfume and touch your warm skin, Your face so clear, your lips so near.
Live, Love, Laugh.
Live, Love, Laugh there may be no tomorrow. This thing I read and made me think, Of just how short our life is.
When I'M Sixty Four
I got to thinking the other day.
About you and me and senile decay.
Will I still be red hot when I’m sixty four.
Will you still turn me on as you did years before.
When we find a hotel and go to book in.
Will we ever remember what names to fill in.
When I arrive a bit late will you still hear my knock.
Or will you be stone deaf and keep the door locked.