Painting

- by Linn Barnes

Painting
-Linn Barnes

There among the images
among the dancing colors

At what seems the border of 
the deep quantum world

Where the elusive here 
may be not far from there

And the perilous now just 
might be the vanished was

Where tomorrow shines
bright beacons for the

Bustling and fired imagination
on fire with the blade in hand

Where in dense shadows
and plains of space I am

Learning to broadcast
visions of multiple beauty 

Which have captured
and thoroughly enraptured

This wandering soul
now less adrift than ever

As the canvas yields 
to the density of secrecy



The Phantome

- by Linn Barnes


La Dame du Lac

- by Linn Barnes


The Tree

- by Linn Barnes

The Tree
-Linn Barnes

Staring year after year after year
at the bright lights of the forever tree 

Once wobbled me to the verge of collapse
until I guess I got used to it and learned

To bathe in the multicolored fantasy
flashing without fail each December

While always fearing that one day
a shadow would pass over all of it and

The glamour of the glimmer would
crinkle crack and creep away

Leaving me stranded with years of
desolate nothingness ahead

But that has not to this time
been the case as I revel once

Again in the primitive seduction
of sparkle and twinkle blinking

The old routine and nothing has
been lost to time but time itself

The old and merciless enemy
stalking all the days we have

Wandered into careless vanishing 
while the twinkling lights pulse

Glow and shatter the shadows
so eager to put them to rest


On Stage

- by Linn Barnes

On Stage
-Linn Barnes

Miracles are in the 
air on stage
where the 
bright lights 
heat and bear down

where there is no 
place to hide
where there is 
only the truth
being born which 
rattles the storms 
that rattle
your being

where there is 
finally no retreat 
and there is left 
only the need 
to engage
to bring joy

and 
hope 
to 
survive


Solstice

- by Linn Barnes

Solstice
-Linn Barnes

It is said Gabriel will lean down out of heaven
and with a mighty blast on his golden horn

shock with booming wave after wave fields
mountains forests lakes seas and plains

with the clear good news for all the living
that the darkness will be swept back

that a new sun is busy being born
after the longest night is weathered

while the raw cold and fierce winds
hold all on earth in shock and fear

the fires are lit heaped and banked
as all await the dawning of another year


A Full Chord

- by Linn Barnes

A Full Chord
-Linn Barnes 

The trees are mostly bare
cold light is shinning 

In the deep woods
where shadows dance

In plain sight
while the day

Crumbles into dusk
where the truth

Can no longer
be hidden or shaded

But waits for the new day
transparent to the will

Flooding the fresh
air with a full chord

Which resonates and 
warms the willing heart

Which sings sweetly 
an ancient song

About justice and 
where it can be found


Gaining Ground

- by Linn Barnes

Gaining Ground
-Linn Barnes

Surefooted
gaining ground

We closed on the prey
crippled in the fray

And along with the rest 
brought him down

The first blast to his pride
shamming him for the loser 

He dreaded being and damning him
for the rest of his miserable life

To the junkyard of failure 
and the outhouse of fools


Wrapped in Green

- by Linn Barnes

Wrapped in Green
-Linn Barnes

The eye of Christmas
in centered in the cold
the raw wind and snow
covering the brittle earth

The magic of Christmas 
is the warmth by the fire
the secured windows doors 
a barrier to the hard blow

The truth of Christmas 
is manifold and found
in candle light and green
sprigs and boughs 

The faith of Christmas
is a deep breath exhaling
the power of belief and charity
to the lost and forlorn

While keeping the fires 
kindled coaled and warm
though the long nights
cold days of doubt and despair

Until the dawn of the day
children laughing racing
houses bursting with the 
elemental joy wrapped in green.


Whirl

- by Linn Barnes

Whirl
-Linn Barnes

Whirl will be known
and floods will rise

high ground will crumble
fall and meet the valley

while fleeing naked priests 
will scream for protection

to long dead fantasies
neither near nor far

never really found save 
in desperate dreams

on lonely sad deathbeds
chiseled into greying stone

to the eternal damnation
of the eyes of man gone blind

to the avarice of the few
who survive since they can

upon the long suffering poor 
whose time will surely come.


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