Archive for poetry

Infinite Sky

Posted in poems with tags , on June 21, 2013 by Phillip Barker


storm clouds skittering
across the infinite sky
the birds go quiet


Aim – with TJ Garvie

Posted in poems with tags , , on June 4, 2013 by Phillip Barker




I found Jesus in your AIM.

Pink and fleshy, delicate,
sinless with your stroke.
Your mantra nuzzled my ear
as I gazed into your AIM;
a gasp. You dipped your inkstick.

© Copyright T J Garvie 4 June 2013


To read a little bit more of this amazing poet go HERE.

And it should be noted – and it was remiss of me not to mention it on the post –  THIS, which appears further down the list, was inspired by a banter and acrostic TJ and I engaged in a few moons back. My write – her instigation. Thanks cobber.


Image by Phillip Barker


Posted in poems with tags , on June 3, 2013 by Phillip Barker


deep in memory
recite dead names endlessly
under crescent moon
the sun nears the horizon
lonely grasshopper recites


Coca Colonial

Posted in poems with tags , , on May 30, 2013 by Phillip Barker


Thematic conundrums
bite like bad lemonade
The eerie scent
of Formaldehyde.

goes about his
quiet, exotic business
like a man possessed
of a secret
sinister purpose
that will brook no scrutiny
beyond the most mundane

The Big Weird
collapses like a house of cards.
As the bedrock shakes
and the lies
that have constructed worlds
are exposed
like raw nerves,
red and aching.
Worlds collapse.

Pop coca-colonialism
at its most vicious
and insidious
– Discuss.


Oct 2009

I found these four fragments on a scrap of doodles that I did sometime in the late nineties. Spiralling – and buried in a mass of “pass the time” scrawls.

The graphic is a shameless rip off and modification of an advertisement for a popular credit card. What Jackson Pollock had to do with credit cards is a beyond me…

Mind Shut

Posted in poems with tags , , , on May 28, 2013 by Phillip Barker



Mind shut , mouth open,
Through your thick blanket of thought
You do not see the sky

early January 2008

Not so humbly dedicated to Republicans, Democrats, followers of the Westboro Baptist Church or the Taliban, and lunatics of similar ilk – indeed, to everyone who has allowed someone else to do their thinking for them.



Posted in poems with tags , , on May 28, 2013 by Phillip Barker


I lick the pain from the surfaces
Of your restlessly questing mind
I digest the depths and breadth of you

Licking your identity
off of your back
Tracing your spine –

Turning – and sucking the passion from your belly
Rising and kissing your nipple concealing hands
As they open – drink in your thoughts from your breasts

Releasing your belt
Your jeans pooling on the floor –
tracing your furry glory
the hard wet button
the saturated lips
through the fabric of my dream

Seated – on the edge of your chair
Throwing your feet onto my shoulders –
sliding the last gossamer sheen of cloth
along your long legs
reaching down and opening your petals
pulling me in with your ankles behind my neck

I suck the juice of your lyric
Taste the savory fluid of your spirit
As it falls across my tongue
Caress moans – and sighs – from your lips

Rising to my knees –
Penetrate to the core of you
Write sonnets and compose airs
In the depths of you
As you carve street poems
And hard steel thoughts
Across the surfaces of me

Later – running the late night streets
Like wolverines
You suck songs from me
On your knees in a dark alley
And later – I stroke epics from you
On a car bonnet
Your skirt around your hips
Bare feet spurring my back
As late night clubbers
cheer me on
And applaud the eloquence
Of your passion
And take up the glorious chant
Of your long – slow release

And we rise –
into the high
forgotten spaces
of the city

And I strip you naked
For the cool breeze
to tease your flesh
And watch as ecstasy builds
A crescendo of wanting
A libretto of need

We fuck like animals
Flailing away at each other
You pissing vitriol at the city below
Me, feeling your rain on my thighs
And your pleasure in my mind

Later – the skies open –
and we sit naked on the roof top
Letting the clouds and rain
Cleanse us of a madness so intense
I fear for my ability to return
And you weep like an ecstatic child
Who’s had way too much candy

And later again – your room
And I lay you out on your belly-
And stroke and lick your spine
As you slide into a deeply sated sleep
And I retreat – satyred
Into the city
With your song on my lips
And your scent around me
Like an erotic halo


October 2010


Posted in poems with tags , on April 27, 2013 by Phillip Barker



red wine betrays us
a little salt for our wounds
jesting at the scars
memories play across moments
now and once-upon-a-time